The Bard (Highland Heroes #5) - Maeve Greyson Page 0,2
for this to be early March.” He went to an amply stocked sideboard and filled three glasses. Waving them forward, he held one up. “Come, gentlemen. I refuse to risk spilling this fine whisky by toting it over to ye.”
Sutherland and Magnus didn’t have to be invited twice. Both joined Greyloch and gladly accepted their drinks. Sutherland relished the rich burn down his gullet, while the heady fumes filled his nose. Nothing warmed a man’s soul nor relaxed his mind quite like a good whisky.
The creaking of the bookcase door behind him and the click of a pistol abruptly interrupted his appreciation of Greyloch’s fine blend.
“Ye will do me the courtesy of turning, Master MacCoinnich. I prefer to look a man in the eyes when I shoot him.”
Lady Sorcha’s melodious voice was laced with more venom than an adder. Sutherland fought the urge to rub at the hairs standing on end across his nape. Instead, he downed the rest of his drink in one gulp and returned the glass to the sideboard. He had been warned more than once that his womanizing ways would be the death of him. He reckoned death by the hand of a beautiful lass was as good a way to go as any.
Slowly turning, he held out his arms. Might as well provide the lady with a broader target. He came close to stumbling as he faced her. May the heavens help him, the woman was still lovely as hell even with a pistol pointed at his chest. Tall and slender as a graceful willow, with long hair the color of a red deer’s newly born fawn. Eyes a startling greenish-gold, honed in on the sighting of her prey. Lady Sorcha Greyloch possessed a fierce, untamed beauty. She was definitely more intoxicating than any drink.
“Would ye grant me one last request, dear lady?”
“Why should I?”
Fire and fury flashed from her. What passion this bonnie lass possessed. Damnation, he wished she didn’t feel so ill toward him. What he wouldn’t do for a chance to win her over. Perhaps he might accomplish it yet. After all, as long as he wasn’t dead, there was hope.
With a contrite dip of his chin, he took a step forward, keeping his arms extended. “Aye, my dearest lady, ye speak the truth of it. Ye are in no way bound to grant me a last request, but still, I beg ye to search what I’m certain is yer generous nature and choose to hear me out, even though I am so undeserving.”
“Come now, daughter,” Chieftain Greyloch urged, utterly failing at hiding his amusement. “It wouldna be Christian to shoot the man without hearing him out.” He moved to stand beside Sutherland. “Be a good lass, now, and let the man speak his piece, aye?”
Weapon steady and still leveled at her target, Lady Sorcha’s eyes narrowed even more. Sutherland could tell she knew her father thought this all a jest. He prayed she wouldn’t kill him just to prove the man wrong. After a few moments, she gave a regal nod. “Speak yer request then. But know this, just because I hear it doesna mean I shall grant it, ye ken?”
Just to buy himself a bit more time and maybe even a tad of the lass’s favor, Sutherland dropped to one knee. Surely, the woman wouldn’t shoot a man kneeling at her feet. “All I ask, m’lady, is that ye grant me yer forgiveness for behaving like an ill-mannered cur. Please, I beg ye find it in yer heart to understand why I couldna help myself. The temptation was just too great. Yer beauty addled me, so I lost all ability to reason.”
The pistol didn’t waver. Lady Sorcha’s head tilted slightly as one of her delicate brows arched higher. “So, ye’re saying the fault of yer uncomely behavior is mine?”
“Aye, m’lady.” He was a dead man for sure. He could tell it by her tone. Since he was already condemned to die, maybe he should ask for a kiss as well. Might as well leave this world with the taste of a fine lass on his lips. “Dear woman, truly, I had never beheld such a rare loveliness as ye possess, and a man is always more motivated to win a fair lady’s approval when a wager is involved. Ye ken it’s our nature to compete—to strive for our lady love’s hand. The bet drove me even harder to win a sweet kiss from yer divine lips.”