“A woman with a voice like that should have the face of an angel, the body of a Greek sculpture, and the skills of a courtesan. Chances were, she was a haggard old crone.The hulking workman began to gather his tools. "I hope ye and yer pa know what ye're doin'. Fop or no, no man takes well to losin' his belongings.""Psht," the woman said airily. "It's not as if we plan on knocking him in the head and peeling his pockets."That was something,at least, Dougal thought grimly.”

“Ye're playing fer the house? But ye won it just a month ago! Why,this land is worth more than yer estate near Stirling!"Now that he'd toured the land and knew the true condition of the house, Dougal was tempted to agree. The deed to MacFarlane House was worth far more than he'd originally thought.Shelton shook his head. "Ye're moonstruck, me lord. Moonstruck and fairy-pinched.”

“Gor," she breathed when she picked up the nearly empty tureen. "Someone done eat the soup!""Never!" Angus said, his eyes as wide as saucers."All of it," she said, holding the tureen toward Angus.He peered into it as if expecting to see a hole in the bottom. "Well, I'll be.""It was excellent," Dougal said.Angus sent Dougal a look of respect. "Ye must have an iron stomach.""Indeed," Mary said, a worried look on her face. "I beg yer pardon, me lord, but do ye feel well? There was a bit of pepper in that soup."Dougal shrugged. "I'm fine. And I must get that recipe to give to my own chef.""Gor!" Mary blinked at him, unable to look away.Angus did the same.Dougal smiled inquiringly at Sophia. "I feel as if I've become an exhibit at the British Museum.”

“I've never had a better piece o' roast. But it was the apple pie as made the meal. It was flaky and sweet, all buttery,with-""Enough!" Dougal's stomach growled loudly. "The food I was given was not fit for consumption. Ride to town today, and fetch some foodstuffs. Some apples, tarts, a few meat pies-whatever will keep well.""Aye,me lord.Do ye want an apple now? I've one here I was saving fer yer horse.""Thank you." Dougal pocketed the apple."Not very hospitable, giving yer poor victuals and a lumpy bed.""This is all part of their plan. Mr. MacFarlane regrets giving up his house on the gaming table, and his daughter is determined to regain it.”

“I'm not blind,you know." His gaze flicked down to her breasts, interestingly encased in her tight riding habit. "I can see very well."Her cheeks flushed, and she tried to pull away again.Behind Dougal came a bang, like the sound of a large door slamming, and Sophia's eyes widened. "Angus, no!" she cried."Ye misbegotten bounder!" Angus roared.Dougal turned just in time to see a huge fist hit him squarely in the eye.Thanks to Sophia, who'd jumped up and clung tightly to Angus's huge arm, the punch was softened. Otherwise, not only would it have knocked Dougal down (which it did), and not only would it have sent the world dark (which it did), and not only would it have blackened his eye (which it did), but it also might have killed him. Instead, Angus's slowed fist merely smashed into Dougal's face, spun him around, and laid him out as neatly as a piece of firewood.”

“I'll stir up the fire in the stove in the tack room. If ye're committed to this folly, then ye'll be wanting somethin' to eat before ye return to the house."Where the delectable Sophia was probably in the kitchen at this very moment, ruining his dinner. Despite his throbbing eye, Dougal reluctantly grinned. "You're right, I shall want my dinner first. And a bath.""Which would be cold if ye got it in the houes, I suppose?""And filled with itcing powder, as well, if they think of it.""I'm glad we'll be leavin' soon," Shelton said grumpily.”

“Jack! Pray tell Miss MacFarlane that the roads are impassable.""The roads are impassable," he replied immediately."And that she should stay at least another day.""You should stay at least another day," he repeated, a twinkle in his eyes.Fiona nodded. "And that she is more then welcome here.""I am certain she knows that.""And how we'd love to have her for another week, at least,and-"Jack laughed and took his wife's hand. "Fiona, my love, I believe Miss MacFarlane is very aware that we both wish her to stay."Sophia had to smile. "I am very flattered, but we really must go. There've been so many unexpected storms that the roads could easily get worse."Jack snorted a laugh while Fiona glanced up the stairs. "Haven't there been," she said grimly before returning to gaze at Sophia. "I am so disappointed you are leaving."There was genuine warmth in Fiona's voice. "I am, too,but I must get back to my father, who has been ill. I was only to be gone one day, and he'll worry if I don't return immediately.""I suppose you can't-""She's not going anywhere."Sophia closed her eyes at the deep voice from the top of the stairs. Her enitre body had tightened at the sound, traitor that it was.Dougal came down the stairs to stand before Sophia, his expressioin guarded and tense. "Fiona,Jack, would you mind giving me a few moments' private speech with Miss MacFarlane?""Will you attempt to persuade her to stay?" Fiona asked in a hopeful tone."Absolutely." His dark gaze never left Sophia."Very well," his sister said, taking her husband's arm. "Come,Jack. I'm famished."He sent a stern glance at Dougal. "We will be in the breakfast room if we're needed.""You won't be needed," Dougal snapped."Jack,stop it," Fiona hissed. She tugged him into the breakfast room and closed the door.”