Highland Bachelor 02 - This Laird of Mine by Gerri Russell Page A

upright posture. That was a good thing in a refined wife, was it not?
    Claire closed her eyes once more, still hanging on to hope that sleep might yet come. One night of her bridegroom ignoring her would not turn her from her plans. Too much was at stake with Penelope, Anna, and Eloise. They needed her to be strong.
    And as for his friends? She had seen the way Nicholas had appraised her yesterday. He, if not all of them, suspected all was not as she claimed between herself and Jules.
    Claire released a groan and turned her face into her pillow, shielding herself from the faint light of dawn and the challenges awaiting her with the coming of the new day.
    She had to make Jules fall in love with her. The memory of his arm curled around her waist brought heat to her cheeks. She drew in a breath, then recalled the soft scent of mint that had curled around her senses when he had drawn her close.
    She would do whatever it took to make certain her girls would have the future they deserved. As their guardian, she had to see her plans with Jules through. Despite her claims yesterday, she would do anything at all to make that happen. Anything at all. Her life and her reputation did not matter. It was the three young women whose livelihood she controlled because they had no one else. That knowledge alone would steady her in her task.
    As soon as morning arrived, she would begin again, and do things right this time.
    The thought had barely formed when a loud explosion vibrated just outside her window. Caught between sleep and awareness, Claire twisted out of the tangle of sheets and sat up, staring into the predawn light.
    Her head ached dully, and she had the uneasy feeling something disturbing had happened. What could make that kind of noise so early in the morning? The sound came again. Two, three times. Whatever the sounds were, they were coming from beneath her tower window.
    “For heaven’s sake,” Claire cried, throwing off the covers and jumping out of bed with more energy than she truly felt after a night of little sleep. She hastened to the shutters and released the latch, then peered out into the faint light of dawn. Beneath her she could make out three dark shapes. Men.
    As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw not just any men, but Jules, David, and Nicholas. Another clatter of noise filled the peaceful morning as each man pointed a blunderbuss level with the grass and fired.
    The shutters opening must have made a sound because Jules turned toward her. A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Did we wake you?” he called from below.
    He was hunting. Beneath her window. Nothing suspicious about that. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, Claire released a long sigh. He would not make her task an easy one. “How are the pheasant this morning?” she asked, ignoring his barb.
    “We’ve taken four already,” David called up to her.
    “Sounds like we will feast for supper tonight,” she said, smiling at her husband with as much friendly candor as she could muster so early in the morning.
    “That we will,” Jules said. His gaze lost its softness and his smile faded. “’Tis a meal you will be preparing for us all.”
    Claire tried to keep her smile. As his wife, she was the head of his household staff. She was not much of a cook herself, but she could certainly direct others in cooking the meal. “It will be my pleasure to assist the cook in the preparation of the meal.”
    “We have no cook, Claire darling.” The endearment was spoken so sweetly, yet the look in his eyes was anything but sincere. “I have had no time since my return to hire a proper staff. You will have to do it yourself.”
    Claire frowned darkly into the silvered light that surrounded her husband. She could not, absolutely would not, fold at the first challenge he threw out to her. She straightened. “Supper will be served at eight o’clock on the west terrace.”
    She turned her gaze toward the sky, to the pink fingers of