The Scottish Bride by Catherine Coulter

there was dissatisfaction written around his well-shaped mouth, Tysen saw. Frustration, perhaps. Resentment? But why? “I hail from southern England, near Eastbourne in a small town called Glenclose-on-Rowan.”
    â€œI have been all over England. I found Brighton a lovely place, Eastbourne as well. You are part of theSherbrooke family. Your eldest brother is the earl of Northcliffe?”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œI remember walking over the land where the Battle of Hastings was fought. It was moving, that spot, perhaps even atmospheric, but it is not Scotland. There is no land more beautiful, more filled with glorious memories than Scotland.”
    â€œIt is quite magnificent here,” Tysen agreed. “I met Mary Rose Fordyce yesterday.”
    â€œOh? I saw her yesterday as well. She was coming out of the pine forest. She’d wondered about you and had been watching you leave the castle. That’s what she told me. She likes to watch people going about their business. She is fanciful. She makes up stories about them, based on her observations of them.”
    â€œShe hurt herself.”
    The man stiffened, his eyes darkened with concern. This was interesting, Tysen thought.
    â€œIs she all right? What happened?”
    â€œShe sprained her ankle. Actually, she mistook me for you, chasing her down. She was running as fast as she could away from you. She tripped and fell into a sheep killer.”
    â€œThere is no reason for Mary Rose to fear me,” said Erickson MacPhail, and there was anger in his voice, and frustration as well. “I had already left her. There was no discord between us. I think it more likely that you misunderstood, my lord.”
    â€œNot likely,” Tysen said. “She told me that you tried to maul her, that you even wait for her to come out and then you attack her. You have done this many times. I asked her why her father doesn’t protect her, but evidently her father is dead. I have met her uncle, Sir Lyon Vallance.”
    â€œHe is much admired in these parts. He used to be quitethe sportsman in his younger years. But when it comes right down to it, he stamps his big feet and bellows to the rafters, but there is no heat in him. If something needs to be done, he wants others to do it for him. I mean no harm to Mary Rose. I never have.”
    â€œShe believes that you do.”
    There was contempt in the young man’s voice as he said, “So she asked you, a stranger, an Englishman, to warn me away?”
    â€œNo, I have taken it upon myself to warn you off. She is a young lady. She should not have to worry about men waylaying her.” Tysen wasn’t used to this, but he said it, his voice clear and cold, “Is it rape you have in mind, sir?”
    â€œVery strong words, my lord. Very strong, indeed. You are a stranger here. You are not a Scot. You know nothing. However, I choose not to take offense. I shouldn’t want to bloody your face with your daughter nearby. You mistake the entire matter.” He laughed. “Mary Rose, a lady?” Erickson MacPhail threw back his handsome head and laughed again, laughed louder than the squawking seagulls overhead. Then he waved to Meggie, turned to his horse and mounted in a single graceful movement. “Soon, my lord,” he called, and wheeled his big gray gelding away. Tysen stood watching until he disappeared over a small hillock to the west.
    The sun had set. It was chilly now, wind beginning to whip up from the sea. He called to Meggie, watched her wave back and begin her climb up the hill path to where he stood. It had rained the past two nights. Meggie didn’t think it would storm tonight. Perhaps she’d given some almond sweetmeats to a local seer and been told it would be clear. He wouldn’t be too surprised if that was the case.
    Tysen sighed. He didn’t understand this businessbetween Mary Rose and Erickson MacPhail. He knew he shouldn’t