Free As High as the Heavens by Kathleen Morgan Page A

back to the road ahead. The wretched,
conceited rogue, Heather thought, clenching her horse's
reins so tightly her knuckles turned white. If he, for even
one second, thinks he's bested me ...
    With an effort, she forced her attention back to her
father. "Can't ye stay even one night? These Mackenzies
are all but strangers to me, and I'm sure to feel more at
ease after-"
    "Lass, lass," Robert Gordon chided with a paternal
smile, "ye've never lacked for skills with speech, not with
strangers or even yer betters. Why, if I recall correctly, wasn't it ye who, when but a lass of thirteen, strode right
up to our queen and introduced yerself before Mary
gave ye leave, or ye were even properly announced?" He
chuckled softly. "A lass of yer mettle will never lack for
courage, no matter the situation."

    Disappointment flooded Heather. She knew well
enough by now what her father's true answer was when
he hedged in such a fashion. "So ye mean to make Uncle
Angus's tower house before dark, do ye?"
    "It isn't for me to decide, lass." Her father smiled apologetically. "It's hardly polite of me to dictate the day's
agenda to my host."
    "Aye, I suppose not," Heather muttered. Especially
when it's evident ye've no wish to linger here a moment
longer than necessary, she added with an uncharacteristic bitterness.
    "Ye've Beth and Tavish to keep ye company," Robert Gordon hastened to add, apparently noting the disgruntled tone of her voice. "And besides, there's Fiona
Mackenzie to chaperone ye as well. Ye'll not lack for
protection, if protection is even what ye're needing."
    Aye, protection, Heather thought grimly. It was indeed
a ludicrous consideration. Who or what had she to fear?
Surely not Duncan Mackenzie. As overbearing as he was,
it was equally evident he knew his place and his manners, at least when in the presence of his elders. He was
no danger to her unless she allowed him to be.
    Besides, she was no love-struck girl like Janet Mackenzie. She would never permit herself to act in such
an addlepated fashion. It was bad enough she seemed
to have lost Janet's friendship, and all because she had chided the young woman about the dangers of heroworshiping Duncan Mackenzie. But then, to add insult
to injury, Janet seemed to think she had ridden joyously
off this morn in eager anticipation of spending months
with Duncan in the relative isolation of his home.

    Why, one would've thought Janet had imagined she
had stolen Duncan Mackenzie right out from beneath
her nose! And all because of some man whose physical comeliness warranted hardly more than a passing
glance.
    In the clearer light of a fresh new morn, Duncan
Mackenzie wasn't anything special. There were plenty
of men as big and strapping as he. Plenty of men with the
most astonishingly broad shoulders and well-muscled
bodies. Plenty of men who walked with an effortless,
catlike grace that caught the eye and made the mouth
go dry...
    With a jerk, Heather realized where her thoughts were
once more leading. She flushed, mortified with herself
and unaccountably angry with Duncan Mackenzie.
    His brother Colin, for all his ardent courtship, had
never stirred her in such a way. Indeed, no man had ever
affected her like Duncan Mackenzie had in the span of
less than a day. Yet the grim truth remained. She didn't
know this man or his heart and his mind. For all his fine
looks and exciting manner, what if there was naught
more? What if he was a dullard or, worse still, what if
he thought little of women save for the selfish pleasure
he might find with them?
    That admission brought Heather back full circle, frustrating her all the more. She was no love-smitten girl and would never allow herself to be. If she ever gave her
heart to a man, it would be because she admired his mind
and was moved by his soul. Because he recognized her
intelligence, her womanhood, and cherished it, wished
to nurture it and bring it to even greater fruition. And,
most