Hero in the Highlands by Suzanne Enoch Page A

red, now. More brownish, with some green algae.”
    â€œYou’re wearing the same attire, miss,” the major said coolly, his gaze drifting down the length of her and back up to her face again. “And my business is between Mr. Kieran Blackstock and me.” He swung onto the bay and, despite the mud and water clinging to him, made the motion look both graceful and deadly.
    For the briefest of moments she looked up at him, considering her answer. More than likely old Lattimer’s damned solicitors had sent him to chase down the estate’s ledger books, but if they’d resorted to using the military … Well, that wouldn’t do at all. Cooperation, though? With the English army? That went against everything for which she stood, and more so because she liked his looks. She didn’t like any Sassenach. Especially one who’d manhandled her and told her it was for her own good. They treated all of the Scottish Highlands the same way.
    Steeling herself, she met his gaze, past that hard mouth and a straight, statue-perfect nose, to his pale gray eyes. The thin, straight scar that ran through his left eyebrow, skipped over the eye, and shallowed and disappeared down his cheek, made him look rakish, the sort of man who’d steal a lass’s heart with nothing but a smile.
    Fiona lifted one arm, gesturing northwest beyond the heather-covered hillside. “That way, aboot two miles. Keep the stream on yer right. And now we’re even. Dunnae expect any more help than that.”
    â€œAnd your name?”
    â€œYe’d have that if I asked ye fer yer help. I didnae.”
    He gave a half salute as he wheeled the bay about. “You’re a stubborn lass. I like that.” His precise mouth curved a little at the corners. “You should take a bath. If you change your mind and want my company, you’ll find me at Lattimer Castle.”
    Debating whether she felt more aggravated or more flustered, Fiona lifted her chin. “I intend to take a bath. Nae with the likes of ye aboot, though.”
    â€œWe’ll see about that.” With a nod of his chin he and his companion rode off toward the sloping hillside, arrogant man. Fiona bent down to collect a handful of mud and throw it at him. Evidently he had eyes in the back of his head, because at the last possible moment he shifted sharply sideways. The mud ball hurtled past his shoulder and thudded into the lavender-colored heather beyond. As the two men trotted out of sight, she swore she could hear them chuckling.
    â€œLaugh while ye can, Sassenach,” she murmured, “because ye’ll nae be amused fer long.”
    She gazed after them for a time, trying to shove her worry aside. Lord knew there would be a plentitude of time for it later, when the pretty Sassenach eventually found his way to his destination. Unless he simply vanished into the bog toward which she’d sent him. That would be a fine conclusion to the day—though not for the muddy officer, of course. Still swiping mud off her skin and clothes and refusing to feel any guilt for sending such a fine-featured man into harm’s way, she collected her shoes and headed off quickly northeast, keeping the stream on her left.
    *   *   *
    â€œIf there ever was a castle here, it sank into the bog long ago,” Adam Kelgrove observed, as they made their way around yet another deceptively shallow-looking pool.
    With a noncommittal grunt, Gabriel pulled up Union Jack. Clearly the woman had lied to him; a foul repayment for a rescue. Of course even before he’d waded into the mud he’d known that she hadn’t wanted his assistance, but firstly she’d needed it, and secondly, she’d looked as enchanting as a mud mermaid. Most people, friend or enemy, didn’t attempt to lie to him, and he supposed he’d assumed she would be no different. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. The question then became