Page 5 of Brazen

Your Father

Magnus set the letter down on the tray and poured himself coffee. His father would never cease to be a contradiction. For all his love of being the center of a juicy scandal, it was so like him not to take credit for suggesting to Stirling that Barkely Hall might be just the home Magnus needed. He released a breath. His father had been right. Barkely Hall was the perfect home. One day, he would have to thank him.

By late afternoon, Magnus’s man of affairs had hired a housekeeper and half a dozen footmen and maids who would begin work in the following days. His new housekeeper, Mrs. Rose, had graciously started immediately and, by late afternoon, the smell of baking bread and roasting chicken filled the hallway as Magnus headed for the front door. He stepped outside and studied the sky. Clouds had rolled in, but he didn’t think it would rain before he finished the walk he’d been looking forward to all day.

Magnus took the three steps down to the gravel drive, then set out. He had his eye on the hill to the west, where a forested area followed the base of the hill. Fifteen minutes later, he discovered a fair-sized stream running through the trees. If the source of the stream was large enough, perhaps he could divert the water to his crops. He followed the stream through the trees for at least a mile before stopping. The stream had widened about five feet. Its source had to be one of the Burns that ran off from Moray Firth. He would plan a day to confirm his suspicion.

The sound of voices stopped him short. Was that a woman?

“Go away,” came the voice again—definitely a woman—and raised this time.

Magnus hurried toward the sound.

A man’s muffled reply followed.

“I will thank you to leave,” the woman said.

“I tell you, I will not be gone forever,” the man replied.

The crunch of brush underfoot sounded close.

“For Goodness sake, release me,” the woman snapped.

Magnus began to jog and, a moment later, burst from the thick trees into a small meadow. To his left, a man and woman stood near an estuary that stretched east. A large sow rooted near the water’s edge. The man gripped the woman’s arm.

Magnus opened his mouth to shout, but the woman shoved the tall, sandy-haired man. He stumbled backwards toward the water. She swung toward Magnus and cried out in unison with a loud splash as the man hit the water. Magnus attempted to stop, skidded in front of her and glimpsed dark blue eyes as he slid past.

He glanced down at the muddy ground and realized he was sliding toward the water. He flailed. Slim fingers seized his arm. He grabbed for her, but his feet went out from under him. The pig squealed. The woman released him and he fell onto his back, the air knocked from his lungs. Something hard jabbed a left rib.

Dark spots raced across his vision. Mud soaked his backside and shirt. Magnus groaned. Curses emanated from the water. Something cold touched his jaw. His eyes snapped into focus and the pig filled his vision. He jerked back.

“Lucy, for heaven’s sake, get back.” The woman shooed the pig away.

From the corner of his eye, Magnus glimpsed the man climbing up the bank. With a grimace, Magnus shoved to his feet.

“Who the devil are you?” the man demanded when he neared.

“I am the owner of this property, which gives me the right to ask who you are.”

“The owner of Barkely Hall?” the woman said.

“Come, Mia.” The man started toward her. “I will take ye home.”

Magnus stepped in his path. “I will ask but once. Leave.”

The man frowned. “I will leave with Lady Mia.”

“You will not,” Magnus said. “You were manhandling the lady.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Mia and I are friends. I will no’ leave her alone with a stranger.”

“You have caused enough trouble for one day, George,” she said. “Go home.”

“I will not leave you here with a stranger,” he snapped.

She started toward the sow. The man sidestepped Magnus and lunged for her. Before Magnus could stop him, the sow squealed and charged.

“Lucy!” she shouted.