Page 22 of Highland Sword
“I didn’t. Or at least I don’t remember doing it. I really don’t know how that got mixed in with my books.”
“Perhaps this one is also not one of yours.A Modern Anecdote of the Ancient Family of the Kinkvervankotsdarsprakengotchderns.”
“Now you’re just making things up.”
“Me? Telling stories? Yesterday, you told me that I’m horrible at it.”
“I said no such thing. I said that you are not to be trusted.”
“Well, what do you say to this?” Aidan opened the book and showed her the title page.
She had to lean toward him to see. The ladder shook and Morrigan had to put a hand on his shoulder to steady herself. Her hair brushed against his face. The incredible softness, the fresh scent made him want to touch the silky ringlets.
The moment was fleeing. She took the book out of his hand and turned away.
“I’m just so curious about the range of your interests.”
“There are lots of things that would surprise you about me. But that volume must have been sitting on the desk before I arrived here, as I don’t—”
“These two must be yours.Love And Madness. A Story Too True.” Aidan tried to cock one eye at her, but it was too painful. “AndStudies in the Nude.”
“They are not.”
“Then perhaps I’ll hold on to the second volume.”
“Suit yourself.”
“On second thought, perhaps when I have more time for leisure reading.”
Morrigan snatched the book from him. “That’s not the title at all. It’s Rowlandson’sMiseries of Human Life.”
“So it is. The light is not very good over here. I must have misread it.”
Morrigan shook her head at him. She turned to slide the volume into the bookcase, but he saw the smile.
Aidan considered pulling a few more books off the shelf so they could continue to play this game. But Morrigan was too quick for him. She was down the ladder and had the selected books in her arms in an instant.
“Thank you for the entertainment, Mr. Grant. Good night to you.”
He bowed, regretting it as she started toward the door.
“Have you decided what story we shall use to explain our bruises to the people of Dalmigavie?”
“After tonight, sir, you’ve gained my confidence. Go ahead. Tell them whatever you wish.”
And without another word, she went out.
CHAPTER9
MORRIGAN
The shutters and curtains were drawn back. The midafternoon sun illuminated the three rows of etchings arranged neatly on the desk near the window. Morrigan had lined them up in the order she’d gathered them in Inverness.
Now, she and Maisie scrutinized each one.
“I barely had a chance to look at them the other night with Isabella here,” Maisie said, picking up a flyer and studying it thoughtfully.
Trying to learn where these caricatures came from was a diversion. Morrigan needed a way to distract herself. There was little else she could do about the fact that Wemys was so near. Isabella continued to visit him. Thankfully, Maisie accompanied her sister to the cottage.
