Free Druid Surrender (A Druid Quest Novel Book 1) by Stacey Brutger Page B

satin slipper over her foot, tying the laces despite the way they pinched her toes.
    Sticking out her foot, she glanced down to see the shoes appeared misshapen on her elephant-sized feet. With a snort, she unlaced and tossed them back on the bed, wishing for her sturdy boots.
    A knock came to the door, and she stared at it in trepidation, fearing she’d be accosted again. “Yes?”
    “I’m to escort you to the parlor, my lady.”
    When she didn’t recognize the voice, tension eased out of her shoulders. “Of course.”
    Brighid opened the door and smiled, following the young servant downstairs. A hint of nerves struck her at the thought of seeing Wyatt again. She smoothed back her hair, remembering the caustic comment from the maid about the color and unruliness.
    Then she raised her chin, and some of her confidence returned. So what if she wasn’t some fancy lady Wyatt could admire? She didn’t want his attention; it would only make leaving all the harder.
    Too bad she wasn’t complexly convince of her own words.
    Outside the parlor, she noted the butler lingering by the entrance. He caught her look and nodded. Brighid gave him a tight smile and crossed off the front door as a possible exit.
    Brighid paused outside the parlor. Lydia sat in silence on the divan, two unoccupied, uncomfortable chairs across from her. The only piece not matching the decor was one throne-like chair by the fire, some distance from the rest.
    Then her gaze fell on Wyatt, who was restlessly pacing the room. The sight of him lured her closer. She didn’t recognize him as the man who rescued her. She was a ninny for not identifying his handsome visage as aristocratic when she first laid eyes on him. His jacket hugged his muscular shoulders, making them appear bigger and broader, and invited her eyes to linger. His trousers weren’t tight or the least bit indecent, but she found herself fascinated. His face was clean-shaven, his hair styled, as though he had taken care to look his best…for her. Dressed to the nines, his hair casually styled, he would cause any girl to stop and stare.
    It made her want to rough him up and turn him back into the man she knew—the one who wasn’t so far above her station.
    He spun around at her entrance and grinned as if he’d been unsure she’d appear. The potency of it left her gaping. He walked to the sideboard, thankfully giving her time to gather her scattered wits. Tall crystal decanters were lined up like soldiers and filled with different shades of amber liquid. “Would you care for anything?”
    Brighid shook her head, working to unglue her tongue. He poured himself a small glass and leaned his shoulder against the mantel above the fireplace. His smile was more bemused than angered as he inspected her appearance.
    “Where is the muslin gown I left?” Lydia’s sharp question brought her out of her ruminations.
    “I think she looks beautiful.”
    Before Brighid could react, Lydia whirled on him with a glare. “You asked me to help. Now you’re interfering. Did you want to take over?”
    Wyatt lifted his glass in salute. “I’ll leave it up to you, little sister.”
    When Lydia turned her hazel eyes on her, Brighid finally managed to tear her attention away from the dashing image of Wyatt in all his finery. “The dress is on the bed where the maid left it.”
    Brighid heard Lydia’s unladylike sigh from across the room.
    “Your dress is unsuitable for dinner. If we leave now, we’ll have time to change before mother arrives.” She rose to her feet when Brighid raised her hand.
    “Please, don’t go through the trouble. I don’t feel right accepting your clothes after all your kindness.”
    Lydia raised a brow and turned to Wyatt, as if waiting for him to side with her.
    “I believe you told me to mind my own business.” Brighid narrowed her eyes and swore a smile flitted across his face, but he lifted his cup and took a sip before she could be sure. Then the infuriating man raised