“ Lorne strode into the great room of the keep where Rory shared a post-feast toddy with Kathryn and her father. “Maybe fifteen of Kevin’s herd and there are reports of fresh milk curdling in the village of Tongue.” The serving woman, Bridget, paused in her pouring of whiskey and shuddered, her abundant cleavage drawing Fraser’s notice. “I swear to ye, Laird, it’s that washer-woman, Elspeth. She’s put some kind of Fae curse on the clan like she promised to do.” Crossing herself, Bridget also... made olde signs to ward off evil before running fingers through her glossy brown hair and straightening her gown. Rory imagined a lot of women felt compelled to do such while standing next to a beauty like Kathryn Fraser. “Perhaps we can address this tomorrow,” Rory hissed at Lorne. “It’s half ‘till midnight and I have guests.” The last word he forced through his teeth. What was his steward thinking? Next he’d be telling them about the Banshee.“What’s this?” Kathryn’s soft, honeyed voice poured over them all.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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