The Heiress Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 3)

“This place desperately needs another heiress, Sinjun.”

“From what I’ve learned, nearly every Scottish clan needs a huge ration of money, particularly the Highland clans. We’re lucky here in Fife. There is arable land aplenty, so there is no question about sheep being brought up and the people shoved off their land, which is what is happening in the Highlands. Why the MacPhersons are poor, I don’t know. Goodness, I’m starting to babble like you, Alex.” Sinjun drew a deep breath. “I do hope that Robert MacPherson is here. Now, as you know, I told him in my letter that I would be alone, and that I would be here this morning. If he isn’t here, well, then I’ve failed. Keep your fingers crossed. Stay here and keep hidden. With any luck I’ll have him with me very soon. Now, I need the two of you to assure me that a man would just look at me and become cross-eyed with lust.”

“At least cross-eyed,” Sophie said, and she meant it.

This was the part of the plan that both Sophie and Alex had serious qualms about, but Sinjun seemed so very sure of herself. “Ostle swore he delivered the letter,” she said. They looked at each other but could think of no more to say. They pulled to a halt in the midst of birch and fir trees and prepared to wait. “If you aren’t back with him within a half hour, we’re coming in to fetch you,” Alex told her.

Sinjun rode directly to the front of the castle. Chickens and goats and dogs scattered before Argyll. There were perhaps a dozen men and women about outside, and they stopped their tasks to watch the lady ride up.

She saw two men look at her, then disappear through the great iron-studded front doors. She pulled Argyll to a stop at the bottom stone step and smiled at the people around her.

To her wondrous relief, Robert MacPherson appeared in the open doorway. He stood there and simply stared at her. Slowly, saying nothing, he strode down the deeply pitted stone steps, stopping when he was on eye level with her.

“So,” he s

aid, his arms crossed over his chest. “You came. My question, my lady, is why you would come to my lair all alone, and no fear in those beautiful eyes of yours?”

He was so pretty, she thought, each of his features so finely drawn, from the perfect arch of his fair eyebrows to the thin aristocratic nose. His eyes were just as beautiful as her Sherbrooke blue eyes, surely. She contented herself with simply staring at him for a few moments longer.

“Come ride with me,” she said.

Robert MacPherson threw his head back and laughed. “You think me that witless? Doubtless your husband is over there, yon, in the birch trees, waiting with a dozen men to shoot me down.”

“You weave that notion from cobwebs. You truly believe Colin Kinross so lacking in honor that he would send his own wife to fetch his enemy to him?”

“No,” MacPherson said slowly, “Colin has too much pride to do that. It’s not a question of honor. It’s an arrogant man you married, my dear, overly proud and vicious. He would come himself, ride up to my door as you have done, and challenge me.”

“So you are also saying he is fearless?”

“No, his unbridled vanity leads him into stupidity. He would probably die without understanding how it could happen. Have you come to challenge me?”

“You have misunderstood my letter, then? My trip here was for naught?”

“Oh no, I understood your every word, dear lady. I will say that your servant nearly relieved himself in his breeches he was so afraid. But not you. That interests me. But, truth be told, it doesn’t seem plausible to me that you would want to see me. Our last encounter didn’t leave me with the impression that you wished my company again. Indeed, our last encounter made me rather angry with you. It was a long walk.”

“It was your own fault. You underestimated me because I am a woman. You were, frankly, a boor. You should not have tried to force yourself on me or threaten me. I don’t take kindly to such things. I’m now offering you a chance to improve your manners and gain a new friend, perhaps.”

“Ah, that is what fascinates me. Why?”

Sinjun leaned down in her saddle toward him. She said softly, her breath warm on his face, her eyes as blue as the cloudless sky, “You’re too pretty for a man. It has teased me, this prettiness of yours. I want to see if you are a real man beneath those britches of yours, or a pretty boy prancing about in a man’s body.”

His eyes narrowed in fury. He grabbed her, but she gently raised her hand, the pistol not six inches from his face.

“I told you I didn’t appreciate boors, sir. Now, will you prove yourself to me? What is it to be—a pretty boy or a man with a man’s desires?”

Now she saw lust spring to life in his eyes, raw and deep. She’d practiced this so many times during the past day and she’d won, but it was terrifying.

“How do I know you won’t take me into the woods and shoot me with that pretty little pistol?”

She smiled at him. “You don’t.”

He studied her face a moment longer. “You’re a bit pale now. Perhaps you are a bit frightened?”

“A bit. After all, you could have your men hidden about to shoot me. But it would sorely hurt your reputation were you to kill a woman. On the other hand, who knows? And I have always thought life should be experienced to the fullest and if there are no risks, then why bother? Do you have men hidden about?”

“No. As you said, you’re only a woman. You’re also an Englishwoman, an earl’s daughter. I’ve never met another woman like you. You fascinate me. Why did you marry Colin if you didn’t want him? You’ve been married two months, isn’t that right?”

“Perhaps you’ve also heard that of that time, we’ve spent very few days—and nights—together. He remains in Edinburgh and I am stuck here in that moldering castle of his. I’m bored, sir, and you appear to be something out of the ordinary. I knew you were different from Colin the moment I saw you. You are quite pretty, you know.”