Free The Laird Who Loved Me by Karen Hawkins

“The wind is blowing from the north. It’ll be a cold ride this afternoon.”
    Dervishton looked down the table at Caitlyn. “I don’t care if it snows; I wouldn’t miss this ride for the world.”
    Irritation flared and Alexander regarded the younger lord with a jaundiced eye. He knew exactly what would happen: Dervishton and Falkland would spend the entire ride to the Snaid trying to outjockey one another, which would gratify Caitlyn Hurst’s vanity to no end. It was a pity he wasn’t going. If anyone could keep the two lunkhead lords at bay, it was he.
    Hmm . . . perhaps he
should
go. He thought of all the ways he could tease her while riding, when private conversation was more easily obtained. Not to mention he knew her true riding skills, and they weren’t the best. It was one thing to ride the smooth, flat paths in Hyde Park and another to ride a narrow, uneven country lane.
    Alexander smiled. “I believe I will go for that ride after all.”
    Georgiana’s head snapped in his direction, her hard blue gaze sharp, and for an instant he thought she would blurt out something indiscreet. After a moment, she collected herself and gave an uncertain laugh. “Alexander, really! I’ve never known you to join in such mundane sport.”
    He shrugged. “I’ve decided I’d enjoy the fresh air.”
    A flash of displeasure marred Georgiana’s face. “Since you won’t be here … Lord Dervishton, perhaps
you
will be so good as to stay. I shall be glad to have the company.”
    Lord Dervishton looked disappointed, but he quickly hid it. “Of course, Your Grace. It would be my pleasure.”
    Caitlyn felt a faint sense of satisfaction as the duchess glared at Alexander. Muiren’s information about the duchess and MacLean must be true. Caitlyn shot a glance at the duke, who was happily polishing his snuffbox. Since he didn’t seem bothered, perhaps she shouldn’t be, either. After all, she had no claim to MacLean.
    Of course, if he’d been her husband, she wouldn’t have stood for such nonsense. When she married, she’d make sure her husband respected their relationship
and
her, just as her parents respected each other.
    The thought of her mother gave Caitlyn pause. Already, she’d allowed MacLean’s goading to push her down the same path that had caused the trouble from before—the oh-yes-I-can-and-you-can’t-stop-me that had led her into such indiscretions. She’d let his teasing keep her silent on her limitations as a rider, even claiming that she knew more now, which was a blatant falsehood. She simply could not allow him to lure her into altercations.
    There was something insulting in the way MacLean looked at her, as if he found her wanting in some fundamental way. That look had the power to push herinto rash behavior, which was why she’d stolen his pear. The pompous ass had been so patronizing that she’d longed to take him down a notch. Fortunately, only the Earl of Caithness had witnessed her theft, and he’d merely grinned and returned to his own breakfast.
    Caitlyn could see why Miss Ogilvie thought Caithness an interesting man. He had a steadfast, calm quality. It was a pity Caitlyn didn’t find such men attractive, but she was invariably drawn to the more volatile, less predictable sort.
    She regarded MacLean from under her lashes and wished he weren’t quite so handsome. He looked far too much like a hero from a novel, though his actions were anything but. She wondered what his intentions were. He was certainly out to embarrass her, but why? What did he hope to gain?
    Perhaps she could discover that when they were riding. She’d find a way to speak privately with him and—
    The duchess leaned forward to say something in a low voice to MacLean. He listened, then shrugged and turned away. The duchess looked furious, while MacLean merely looked bored.
    A faint flicker warmed Caitlyn’s heart.
    Sally leaned across the table. “Caitlyn, instead of riding, perhaps I should stay here and look at