Royal Families Vs. Historicals. Rebecca Winters

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ worked with a steely determination that would put many men far stronger than her to shame, but she was beautiful and, even tired and dirty and despondent, there was a glamour to Lotty that made Corran leery.

      There was no place for glamour at Loch Mhoraigh House. His own mother had been a perfect example of how disastrous it could be when you took someone out of their natural milieu, and his brief marriage to Ella had simply underscored that. Corran wasn’t making that mistake again. When he had time for a relationship again, it would be with someone who belonged here, someone who could offer practical support and do more than look decorative.

      Already he was getting too used to having Lotty around. It made Corran uneasy. ‘You’re just looking for attention,’ he told her crossly.

      ‘You can’t think of anything, can you?’

      Corran could feel himself being driven into a corner. ‘You’re good with Pookie,’ he offered at last.

      It was true too. With Lotty to shower attention on him, Pookie had settled down and wasn’t nearly as irritating. He still looked more like a toy than a dog, but he could be appealing enough when he tried. Sometimes when he sat on the sofa Pookie lay beside him on his back to have his tummy scratched and Corran found himself obliging.

      Lotty was looking unconvinced. ‘And you’re a whizz with a broom,’ he tried again, but the face she made at him showed what she thought of that as an accomplishment.

      ‘Those sausages you cooked yesterday were pretty good.’

      ‘They were burnt!’

      ‘I read somewhere that charcoal is good for you.’

      A tiny smile quivered at the corner of her mouth. ‘You’re just trying to indulge me.’

      ‘I’ll do whatever it takes to get a meal on the table,’ he said acidly. ‘What gastronomic treat do we have tonight?’

      ‘Mince again. It’s all we’ve got left,’ she added, seeing Corran’s involuntary grimace. They had been eating a lot of mince recently. It was one of the few things she had learnt to cook without burning and even Corran was getting sick of it.

      ‘We’ll stock up again tomorrow on the way back from Glasgow,’ he said. ‘We can collect your case, buy some furniture and do a supermarket session on the way home. If we’ve got to waste a day, we may as well do everything at once.’

      ‘What do you mean, you haven’t got the code?’ Corran looked at Lotty in exasperation. They were standing in front of the left luggage lockers, which were cleverly locked with a digital code.

      ‘It was printed on a bit of paper and I put it in my purse to keep it safe.’

      ‘The same purse you left on a pub table?’

      She nodded guiltily. ‘I’d forgotten all about it until we got here. I’m really sorry it’s a wasted journey.’

      ‘You can’t be the only idiot who loses the code. We’re not leaving here without that case,’ Corran said. ‘Stay there,’ he ordered and strode off.

      Lotty wasn’t at all surprised to see him come back with a station official a few minutes later. He might not be able to lay on the charm, but he was competent. If something needed to be done, you could rely on Corran to do it.

      She clearly wasn’t required to do anything more than stand and look helpless, which wasn’t hard, while Corran told the official how stupid and careless she had been. She did her best to seem crushed, but the truth was that she loved being ticked off.

      ‘You might at least have the decency to look ashamed,’ Corran said, not fooled by her downcast expression. ‘Look at all the trouble you’ve put this poor man to—not to mention the trouble you’ve put me to!’

      Lotty hung her head. ‘You’re right. I’m really sorry.’

      Corran looked at her suspiciously but she tucked in the corners of her mouth and kept her lips firmly pressed together until her case was safely retrieved, at which point she offered the official a dazzling smile.

      ‘Thank you so much.’

      ‘There’s no need to lay it on with a trowel,’ Corran muttered, carrying her case in one hand and steering Lotty out of the station with the other.

      ‘Trowel?’ she echoed, puzzled.

      ‘You know what I mean. Smiling at that poor man, making those big eyes at him…’

      Lotty stared at him. ‘I thought you wanted me to thank him?’

      ‘A simple thank you would have been fine. You didn’t need to fawn over him.’

      ‘You know you’re being completely unreasonable, don’t you?’

      ‘I’m just saying.’

      ‘I would thank you too if you weren’t being so crabby.’ Lotty slid a glance at him under her lashes. ‘Seriously, thank you, Corran,’ she said after a moment. ‘It means a lot to have my case back.’

      ‘You didn’t need me,’ he said grouchily. ‘All you had to do was smile at that man and he’d have opened every locker in the place for you.’

      If she didn’t know better, Lotty might even have thought he was jealous.

      ‘I couldn’t have done it without you,’ she said, and was afraid that it was true.

      Her case safely stowed in the back of the Land Rover, they then spent a trying afternoon buying furniture.

      Corran was not a good shopper. The store was a cavernous warehouse with a complicated system of ordering by codes, and he was too impatient to take any interest in the process. ‘God, what a nightmare,’ he said, rubbing a hand over his hair. ‘Let’s do this quickly and get out.’

      To everyone else they must have looked like any of the other couples there, Lotty thought. She found herself watching them wistfully, wondering what it would be like to be choosing furniture for your first home with someone you were planning to spend the rest of your life with. How much more fun than moving into palace apartments furnished with priceless antiques and every comfort you could possibly imagine, none of which you had chosen yourself.

      She suppressed a sigh. A second glance would certainly have convinced anyone watching that she and Corran weren’t like everyone else. They didn’t touch each other, or confer with their heads together. Instead, Corran marched through the store, determined to get the job done as quickly as possible.

      ‘A chair is a chair,’ he said briskly, scribbling down the code for the first armchair he came across.

      Lotty looked at him in disbelief. ‘That’ll look awful in the cottage,’ she protested. ‘It’s absolutely horrible.’

      ‘It’s a holiday let. Nobody’s going to care what they sit on.’

      ‘I care,’ said Lotty firmly. ‘I haven’t done all that painting for you to spoil everything with horrible furniture! You want the cottages to look simple and stylish, not cheap and nasty. СКАЧАТЬ