“The bed was lumpy, the fire smoked so badly I was forced to extinguish it or die, then I froze to death the rest f the night because the blanket was so thin.""That's a shame. It was right comfortable in the tack room. I've a cot and a neat little pot-bellied stove."Dougal sent a thoughful look at the barn. "Can you put up another cot?”

“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.”

“Yes,I was thinking about a nap,then..." He shrugged and glanced away. He didn't have to wait long."Oh,dear! The mattress was too lumpy, wasn't it?" Her rich voice lowered with false compassion. "I'm so sorry about that. Red refuses to purchase new mattress ticking when-""You misunderstood," Dougal said. "I didn't intend to take a nap, just to rest. However, the bed was so comfortable that I fell asleep anyway."Sophia opened her mouth,then closed it. She'd spent hours stuffing his feather mattress with straw, wood chips, stones,and sticks. How could he posibly have slept? "How...how fortunate for you.My bed is as hard as a rock."He leaned forward, so close that his lapel brushed her cheek, the scent of sandalwood engulfing her as he whispered in her ear, "Perhaps you need another opinion...about your bed.”

“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 believe I will sit,but not on this chair. The settee is the most welcoming piece in the room,especially with you sitting on it.""Yes,but-"He sat,his hip brushing hers.She scrambled to move to one side, but he'd deliberately sat on the edge of her skirt.Her gaze narrowed, and she said stiffly, "I beg your pardon,but you are sitting on my skirt."Dougal smiled and leaned back, resting his arms along the back of the settee so that she was closed in by him. He found himself charmed by the thought. "Lord MacLean, I have asked you kindly to remove yourself from my skirt. Please do so, or I will be forced to take more drastic measures.""Such as?""Calling for Angus," she said flatly. "In case you didn't notice, my butler is larger than the average servant. He could easily pick you up and break you in two."Dougal quirked a brow. "While that behemoth you call a butler could easily pick me up, he'd have to get close to me first."She smiled smugly, setting Dougal's pride on edge. "I wouldn't try him; he's faster than he looks." She cast a glancedown at Dougal's boot. "Plus, you'd have to race through the barnyard, which could prove fatal to your shine."Damn this woman! She taunted with every phrase, teased with every look. He shifted so that his hip was even more firmly pressed to hers.”

“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.”

“Good God, what happened to ye?" Shelton dropped the bucket of water he was carrying, unmindful that it spilled across the barn floor."I fell." Dougal picked up a brush and began to groom Poseidon.Shelton gave a silent whistle. "Fell into what? A hammer?""Something like that.”