Dreamer (Highland Treasure Trilogy) Read Online Free Page A

doubted
David would even think to lift his sword in defense.
    “You--you’re John Stewart!” her
warrior stammered.
    “Aye, you filthy dog. John Stewart,
earl of Athol. And that wench you were keeping company with in the next chamber
is none other than my intended.”
    It was sheer madness. There was no
other explanation. But Catherine, in the next instant, found herself standing
before the flaming-haired nobleman, blocking his approach.
    “Stop!” she pleaded. “There has to
be a better way to settle this than by drawing blood.”
    Athol hesitated, and as he stared
down at her, the man’s gray eyes flashed murderously. She stood her ground.
    “You see, m’lord, I am Catherine
Percy. David Hume here was entrusted with my safety, and...and I’m quite certain
he must have had no prior knowledge that Ellen...”
    The words dried up in her throat.
She stared as the blade of his long sword gleamed in the torchlight.
    “Out of my way, woman!”
    Catherine’s knees were ready to
buckle, and her head suddenly felt light, but she raised her chin in defiance.
“I cannot!”
    Athol advanced a step, looking past
her at the man standing by the door. Taking a deep breath, she raised a
pleading hand and gazed with as much courage as she could muster into a face
ablaze with fury.
    “He was given the task of
protecting my life until we reached our destination. And he has done an
excellent job...er, up to now. But now that the task is finished .” She
paused, hoping that David would pick up her hint. “And now that his task is finished ,
I believe ‘tis my duty to see him safely away .”
    There was no movement behind her.
How could men be so thick-headed? she stormed inwardly. Away! Run! Flee!
    “We are here at the end of our
journey !” she pressed. “With the earl of Athol!”
    “Out of my way, woman.”
    “At the end of our journey!”
    That did it. David must have turned
to flee with the speed of a falcon, dropping the torch by the doorway in his
escape. Responding quickly, the earl reached out and tried to move around her. 
But Catherine was quicker, throwing herself against his chest.
    It was like hitting a wall of
moving rock at a gallop. Her breath was knocked from her lungs. She fell with
the grace of a meal sack to the floor as Athol picked up the torch and strode
from the chamber.
    For a long while Catherine sat
still in the dark, listening to the shouts and curses and then to the sounds of
horses. She didn’t know if it was the impact of hitting the man so hard or the
cumulative effect of the entire episode that had left her unable to move. The
lodge was in an uproar now, and she could hear the sound of people rushing
about--while the steely voice of Athol could be heard above all of them,
shouting commands and cursing violently.
    What in heaven’s name had she
gotten herself into? she thought groggily, trying to push herself to her knees.
Thank the Lord she had never developed a fondness for any man in
particular--other than her dream-knight--nor for marriage in general. And in truth, what she had witnessed tonight was a clear reaffirmation of that view.
    She was
definitely not suited for matrimony. She could never make anyone a fit wife.
She would never know how to deal with this open display of temper and this
threat of violence.  Nay. And what of this business of a man coming to his
future wife’s bed uninvited, then not even recognizing her as someone else. She
brought her hands up to her flushed cheeks and again shook her head, pushing
from her mind how wantonly she’d responded to him at first, when she’d thought
it was just a dream.
    She was still on her knees when the
door to the Ladies’ Chamber swung open. Closing her eyes, she felt him brush
past her without pausing.
    Pushing herself shakily to her
feet, she stole a glance in the direction of the man who now stood by the bed.
His back to her, he was muttering under his breath as he wrapped a kilt around
him by the light of a wick lamp he