Drawing closer, he slowed his horse. A tall broad man stood with a lovely brunette at his side. Just to her right was an even more stunning blonde woman wearing a shade of blue that glittered in the sun. He clenched his teeth. He didn’t need to notice pretty girls. He needed to sell his wool. That was it.
After pulling to a halt just in front of the group, he swung down. “Laird MacFarland?”
The other man smiled. “Aye. I am. And this is my wife, Lady MacFarland, and my sister-in-law, Lady Daisy Morningstar.”
He looked at the blonde again. She stared back with the sort of blank expression that left him wondering about her thoughts. She certainly didn’t look like the sort who was eager for his attention. Frowning slightly, her perfectly pouty lips turned down, she appeared to be looking over his shoulder as though she didn’t notice him at all. For some reason, that irritated him and he shifted to block her view. “Pleased to meet you, Lady MacFarland, Lady Daisy.” Then he stuck out his hand to MacFarland. “Blake Abbott. Pleasure.”
Colin gave him a solid shake that instantly put Blake at ease. Not too firm, not too soft, the gesture spoke of a confident man even as his warm smile put Blake at ease. Which was likely why he relaxed the reins of his steed. At that exact moment a tiny mouse skittered out from a crack in the foundation of the house and across the path of his horse.
What happened next would have left his father cackling in his grave.
Chapter Two
Daisy stared blankly at the man Colin had just introduced. Dimly, she was aware that he was broad in the shoulders and tall. But really, she was looking at the carriage coming down the drive. She’d caught a glimpse of it over his shoulder before his massive torso blocked it out and she strained up on tiptoe to see if the vehicle had any sort of crest. She’d already forgotten the name of the other guests. What she wished to know was if that carriage belonged to Lord Price.
She craned her neck as she tried to see over the man’s left shoulder. What was his name again? Aidlen? Aster? His shoulders were exceedingly big. He shifted and her gaze focused on them as the trim cut of his coat showed how his waist tapered to narrow hips. As if drawn up, she looked into his face. Were his features as handsome as his body? He shook Colin’s hand, his full lips curved up just a touch, accentuating his strong jaw and the corded muscles of his neck. His nose was a bit large and craggy, but it somehow only added to his masculine appearance. And his eyes were a lovely green shade of hazel that contrasted beautifully with his hair, a dark rich brown swept back from his strong forehead.
The carriage rumbled to a stop and she heard the door open but she’d forgotten her infatuation as she stared at Laird what was his name? The man, she had to confess, was ruggedly beautiful. Not that she cared. She was about to be reunited with her one true love and she’d never give Rose the satisfaction of admitting that her sister had been right about Lord Price being a short infatuation.
Something brushed her skirts and she looked down, wondering if a breeze was picking up, or perhaps the house cat had gone by? But it was a tiny mouse, likely flushed out by the rain and she did a quick step to avoid the little thing, holding in her own scream of surprise.
The horse, which was only feet from her, caught sight of the little thing too and reared up, letting out a loud whinnying protest. His reins must have been loose in the laird’s hand because he came up high and then came down again, his shoulder knocking into hers and pain burst down her arm. She let out a cry and jolted back. Which was a mistake. There was no land there, only a puddle and, as her shoe sunk down into mud, she slipped to the side.
In sickening slow motion, she saw the puddle coming toward her. Well, more precisely, she was falling into it. And the splat of muddy cold water ripped another scream from her lips until her face submerged in the cesspool, blocking out the sound. Cold, slimy mud covered her face, her chest, and dripped into the bodice of her dress even as she attempted to find the bottom and push herself back out.
But she never touched solid earth. Strong hands gripped her arms and pulled her from the mud and, quite suddenly, she was back on her feet.
Not that she could see a thing. Mud filled her eyes, her nose, and, to her absolute misery, her mouth. She spit, trying to clear out the wet grit.
“Oh my,” A deep English voice called from her right. “Did someone have an accident?”
She drew a deep breath in. She’d recognize that voice anywhere, it was Lord Price. But breathing like that was a mistake. A giant gob of mud slid down her throat and suddenly she was choking and gagging, doubled over in revolting agony. This was her big moment. The one she’d spent hours prepping for and here she was, completely covered in mud. She burst into tears, not that anyone would be able to tell.
A large hand pounded on her back as she spewed mud from her mouth and her nose.
“A mouse scared the horse who knocked into
