Free Her Kilt-Clad Rogue by Julie Moffett

often does Catherine visit? “Isn’t she…well, already wed?” Not that it would matter to a rogue like Connor, but for Ewan’s sake, she hoped it did.
    “She was married. But old Archibald died just a month before mum.”
    Stunned, Genevieve fell silent. What an extraordinary coincidence that Connor’s and Catherine’s respective spouses had died within a month of each other.
    He stood on the bottom log of the fence and reaching over toward Mari. “She’s come here a lot since mum died.”
    “Oh.” Genevieve digested that unpleasant bit of information. “Isn’t it a bit odd that she is here already? The foxhunt won’t take place until next week.”
    Ewan shrugged. “I dinna think Da minds spending time wi’ her. At least it means he willna have to be wi’ me.” Bitterness tinged his voice and Genevieve winced.
    “Your father is simply being a gentleman and duty requires that he spend time with his guests.”
    Ewan looked at her curiously. “Why do ye defend him?”
    Why, indeed?
    She kept her expression neutral. “I’m not defending him. I’m only stating facts.”
    “She doesna love Da.” He scuffed his foot. “She just wants the treasure.”
    “Treasure? What treasure?”
    Ewan rolled his eyes, clearly put upon to explain things to her as if she were a child. “The treasure of ole Black Gavin Douglas. ’Tis said he hid some jewels in the castle. People have been searching for centuries for the jewels without luck. But I’ll find them someday. I will.”
    “That’s a marvelous tale, Ewan, but most likely not true. Surely any hidden treasure would have been found by now.”
    “Well, it hasna.”
    Genevieve brushed off her skirts. “I think that’s enough talk of hidden treasure. Let’s return to the schoolroom for the rest of our lesson.”
    To her surprise, he didn’t complain as she led him back to the room. At least that thought warmed her even as the more disturbing thoughts of Connor and Catherine served to worry her considerably.
     
    Connor sat beside Catherine in the castle arboretum, trying to seem interested in her endless chatter about her latest journey to Edinburgh. He couldn’t care less about the newest fashions, the renovation of the inn where she had stayed and the gossip about so-called important people she had visited.
    Why in God’s name had the woman come so early?
    He cursed because he already knew the answer to that. She came for him, for what she believed would happen between them. And until he’d seen Genevieve, even he thought it was a possible future.
    However his plans had altered once he realized his feelings for Genevieve remained true. Now he had to determine the best way to win Genevieve back without excessively hurting Catherine’s feelings or pride. And from what he knew of Catherine, that would not be an easy task.
    Hell and damnation, women would be the death of him.
    He sighed and leaned back in his chair. The plants and flowers in the arboretum were in full bloom and he should have been enjoying their beauty and fragrance. Instead he felt his mood sour.
    Catherine said something and patted him on the knee. That intimate gesture from a woman of her beauty and stature would have had most men fervently counting their blessings. How easily he had fallen for her as a lad. She had a full, curvy body and her thick black hair hung in graceful curves over her shoulders. Yet for all that, she could also be cruel and cold, and he hadn’t always liked what he’d seen. Besides, there was no compelling pull, no common interests and no real passion beyond that of the physical between the two of them. Had it not been for Genevieve, he might have been content with that much. But now he knew better.
    He wanted more.
    It had been a lesson well learned that beauty was skin deep, and did not a blissful marriage make. Just thinking about the years he’d spent with Janet caused his chest to constrict uncomfortably. But Catherine knew too much about him, about his