Royal Families Vs. Historicals. Rebecca Winters

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СКАЧАТЬ last and sighed. ‘Come with me,’ he said, making up his mind abruptly.

      Propping her broom against the wall, Lotty followed Corran out of the cottage where they were met by a black and white collie.

      ‘This is Meg,’ said Corran. ‘She does what she’s told.’

      Lotty thought that she was being obedient too but, after a glance at Corran’s face, she decided not to point that out. He was as formidable as the bare hills that rose on either side of the loch. It was a shame he didn’t smile more, especially with that mouth…

      Hastily, she looked away.

      It didn’t matter whether Corran smiled or not as long as he let her stay. The alternative was to admit that she really was just a pampered princess who couldn’t cope on her own. All she would have to show for her rebellion would be four days walking.

      Compared to that, what did it matter if Corran smiled or not?

      He led her to one of the other cottages strung out along the lochside. It was the same sturdy shape as the others, with low, bumpy stone walls, their white paint now flaking sadly, and dormer windows set in the roof like a pair of quirky eyebrows.

      ‘Take a look,’ said Corran, opening the front door and gesturing her through with an ironic flourish of his hand.

      Lotty stepped cautiously inside. The cottage was filthy. It was cluttered with broken furniture and shrouded in ghostly grey cobwebs. In the kitchen, the sink was stained and rusty, there was mould growing under the old fridge, and the floor was covered with mouse and bird droppings. A window hung open, its glass cracked and dirty, and the banister was smashed. Afraid to trust the creaking floorboards, Lotty turned slowly in one spot.

      ‘What do you think?’ asked Corran.

      ‘It…needs some work.’

      ‘Of all five cottages, this is the one in the best condition.’ A grim smile touched the corners of his mouth at Lotty’s expression. ‘At least it doesn’t need major work, and the roof is sound enough. I’ve got three months to get them all ready to let before September.’

      ‘Three months? It would take three months to get rid of the dirt in this one room!’ said Lotty.

      ‘It’s a pity you think that, because I was going to offer you a deal,’ said Corran.

      ‘A deal?’

      ‘You get this cottage cleaned up and ready for painting by the end of the week, and I’ll let you stay. I don’t for a minute think you’ll last that long, but, if you do, then you can paint it too, and then you can move on to the other cottages.’ He looked at Lotty. ‘Think you can do that?’

      Lotty pursed her lips and pretended to study the room as if she were calculating how long it would take her, although the truth was that she had no idea how she would even begin to clean up that mess. Corran had clearly set her what he thought was an impossible task.

      Raoul the Wolf wouldn’t back down from a challenge like this, and neither would she.

      ‘And in return?’ she said with a fair assumption of casualness.

      ‘In return you get board and lodging. You said you’d work for free, so that’s the deal. Take it or leave it. Frankly, short of carrying you bodily back to the hotel, I can’t think of another way to get rid of you!’

      Nobody had ever spoken to Lotty the way Corran did. And no one was ever that unreasonable either. There was no way she could get this cottage ready for painting in three days. That was why he had set it as a challenge, one he knew she would fail.

      She was just going to have to show him how wrong he was.

      ‘I’ll take the deal,’ she said.

      ‘You’ll regret it,’ Corran warned.

      Lotty lifted her chin and met his pale eyes. ‘Well, we’ll see, won’t we?’

      ‘We will,’ he agreed. ‘I’m betting you won’t make it to the end of the day, let alone the end of the week.’

      ‘And I’ll take that bet as well,’ said Lotty defiantly.

      Perhaps it wasn’t fair. The man wasn’t to know that he was betting against a descendant of Léopold Longsword, after all. Fairness had been dinned into Lotty almost as thoroughly as pride and duty but, right then, she didn’t care. ‘I say I’ll still be here at the end of the month!’

      Corran’s mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. ‘You’re really prepared to bet on that?’

      ‘I am.’ The grey eyes were bright with challenge. ‘How much?’

      ‘Well, as we know you don’t have any money, that’s not much of an issue, is it? What have you got to wager?’

      Lotty thought of her wealth, safely squirrelled away, of her expensive car and designer wardrobe, of the antiques and valuable paintings that filled her palace apartment, of the priceless jewellery she had inherited as Princess of Montluce.

      ‘My pride,’ she said. He wasn’t to know just how important self-respect was to her right then.

      Corran held her gaze for a moment. ‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘If you’re prepared to risk it, that’s up to you.’

      ‘And what will I get when I win?’ she asked him.

      ‘It’s academic, but what would you like?’

      Lotty searched her mind desperately. ‘When I’ve been here a month you have to…to…to take me out to dinner,’ she improvised.

      Corran didn’t exactly smile, but there was a glimmer of amusement in the pale blue eyes. ‘It looks like we’ve got ourselves a deal, then,’ he said. ‘And you’ve got yourself a job—for as long as you can stand it.’

      You’d have thought he’d offered her a diamond necklace instead of three days of unrelenting, dirty work for no pay.

      ‘Oh, that’s wonderful!’ she said, her face lighting with a smile. ‘Thank you!’

      Corran’s chest tightened foolishly as he looked into her eyes, and for one ridiculous moment he forgot how to breathe properly. It was only a second before he got his lungs firmly back under control but, even so, it was an alarming feeling. She had only smiled, for God’s sake!

      Yanking his gaze from hers, he took out his confusion on the dog, who was worrying at a hole in the skirting board. ‘Pookie! Get out of there!’ he snarled, and the dog frisked over to him, its silky coat filthy now with dust and cobwebs.

      Lotty looked at Corran. ‘Pookie?’

      He set his teeth. ‘He’s my mother’s dog.’ He eyed Pookie’s not-so-white fluffiness with disgust. ‘If you can call that a dog.’

      Lotty had crouched down and was encouraging Pookie, who was now in a frenzy of excitement at all the attention, his little tail circling frantically as she ruffled his soft coat. ‘He’s sweet,’ she said.

      ‘He’s СКАЧАТЬ