A Lass to Love (Brides of Scotland #1) - Tammy Andresen Page 0,4
hair spread across his pillow, the moon dancing on her pale skin.
His spine straightened. What would the future countess do if he touched her?
“Tom,” Colin called. “Out for a walk too? It’s a beautiful night.”
Tom drew in a steadying breath. “It is.”
“Join us.” Colin waved. “Fiona is growing bored with my company.”
Didn’t they all? “Of course,” he answered, crossing the deck. “What shall we talk about that will keep the lady entertained?” His lip curled just a bit. “Wedding plans?”
He expected Fiona to launch into a voracious description of lace and floral as many women of her station and beauty wanted to do. “I’d rather continue discussing this lovely evening. Perhaps, Colin, ye could teach us something about the stars.”
Colin reached out and touched her elbow with his free hand. “I’d be happy to.”
Tom barely listened as Colin began pointing out various constellations. A woman who didn’t wish to discuss her wedding?
He looked at Fiona’s gown. He’d noticed earlier that she had a beautiful figure but what he’d failed to note was how well the fabric accentuated her natural lines. The maker knew precisely how to highlight her best features.
Not a detail he usually missed, being in the business himself. And generally, women who took such care with their appearance wanted to discuss weddings at length.
“I’m curious,” he cut in, crossing his arms. “When is your wedding? It must be very soon if you are making the journey down south?”
Her mouth pressed together. “I’m not certain.”
Tom drew his brows together. But as he took a breath to ask another question, Colin stepped a bit closer, creating a physical block in his sight line of Fiona.
“We’d best discuss something else,” his friend rumbled, his chest puffing out.
Tom opened his mouth to ask another question, his curiosity warring with sensibility to be polite.
“Oh,” Fiona suddenly cried. “Oh dear.” She tugged on Colin’s arm, her finger pointing down at the water. “Look!”
He stepped closer to the rail. What had happened?
Chapter Three
Fiona knew she drove her family crazy with her tendency to help injured things, but she couldn’t stop herself. Animals pulled at her heart. Perhaps it was that they were so defenseless in so many ways and deep down, as a woman, she understood that entirely. In fact, her current situation highlighted how little control she had over her life and future. Fiona was completely at Exmouth’s mercy.
And the seagull, which floated on the water, his wing hanging listlessly to one side, had triggered every need she had to help those that couldn’t help themselves. In a world where she could control so little, she could this. Fiona could help that bird. “Find me a net.”
Colin let out a loud groan. “Fiona. No. Please.”
Mayweather gave them both a long look. “I don’t understand. What are we doing?”
Colin cleared his throat even as Fiona began scanning the deck to see if she could locate an appropriate tool. Colin would help her despite his protests. He always did.
“Fiona tends to rescue things. Kittens stranded in trees, horses lost in fields of heather, birds wounded in gardens. The list goes on.”
“And you object because?” Mayweather asked and leaned closer. “You don’t like helping animals?”
“Exactly,” Fiona called, giving him her best smile as she located a net.
He smiled in return and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She inwardly cursed but then focused her gaze on the rail. “We’ll use this net to collect him and then I can help him recover.”
Colin stepped back. “Tom can assist ye since he clearly sees merit in yer plan.”
“I certainly can.” Mayweather joined her. “I don’t know why you’re being so cold.”
“Yer about to find out,” Colin muttered.
Fiona shot her cousin a glare as she sniffed. “Colin is just sore because he’s been scratched a few times.”
“Scratched?” Colin fired back. “I’ve been bitten, pecked, shredded, and nearly hung in yer rescues attempts.”
“Hung?” Tom chuckled next to her. “Surely he jests.”
Fiona reached down, her net well above the bird she needed to scoop out. “Do ye have an oar that I could tie to the net?”
“No,” Colin answered. “And I don’t jest. When I rescued the horse on her behalf I was nearly strung up as a horse thief. It’s a hanging offense, ye ken.”
Mayweather paused, taking a step back. “Perhaps I’ll join Colin in the spectating—”
She reached for his arm then, intent on stopping his retreat. But something strange happened. Energy zipped through her body, making her fuzzy in her brain, and her stomach began