A Laird to Hold Angeline Fortin (most important books of all time .TXT) 📖

stalked her day and night. Despite Tyrone’s efforts to whip them back, he couldn’t tame the beasts.

Back to the peace and quiet of Dunskirk. To the cold castle, the stinky stables and garderobes she’d never belittle again. So help her, she’d even wear one of those ridiculous headdresses and shut up about it.

“Any other troubles?” Scarlett asked. “No more reporters have gotten in?”

“Not since the one a couple of weeks ago. Security has stepped up nicely.”

“Great,” she said. “In that case, I thought I might leave a little earlier than normal tonight, if you think that’s okay? My friends have offered to watch Hermione and I want to surprise my husband with a little date night.”

A wide smile filled with pleasure stretched Willa’s lips. “Absolutely. If I had a husband like yours, every night would be date night.”

Scarlett’s smile was genuine. “Most of them are. Until lately, at least. I think we could use a night away from the hospital.”

“Of course you could! Where are you going?”

“Oh, I have a surprise in mind for him he’ll never forget.”

 Laird

“What is this place?”

With a grin, Scarlett took Laird’s hand and tugged him down the inclined aisle between the rows of tightly crowded seats. Hesitantly, he went along as she couldn’t budge him an inch unless he allowed it. This night, it was his pleasure to bend to her will.

There hadn’t been a smile this playful to cross her lips in some time. Though he knew her humor would somehow be at his expense, Laird was happy to let her bedevil him in whatever manner she chose if it meant bringing her a moment of enjoyment.

“Come, Laird, you know a theater when you see one.”

Indeed, there was a curtain crossing the elevated stage at the bottom of the aisle. However, the many rows of seating were new to him when compared to the theaters he knew. The only seats in those were located in the raised boxes situated around the perimeter of the audience. The pit area where all these seats were in the center here were meant as standing room in the past.

“We’re here to see a performance, then?” he asked, taking in the hundreds of empty seats. “Where are all the other patrons?”

“This show is for an audience of two,” she informed him. “Where would you like to sit?”

“Ye choose,” he suggested, not only because he was a gentleman but also because he had no reference to make an informed choice on the matter. “There is to be nae other audience?”

Scarlett shook her head, the light in her eyes dimmed a notch. “I rented the whole theater for a private screening. I’ve done it before. As much as I love movies, I don’t really get much of a chance to enjoy them when there’s a lot of people.”

“Because of yer fame?”

Laird didn’t need to see her nod to know the truth of it. Once upon a time, he’d mocked her for proclaiming herself a celebrity. Even after he knew her well and the tale of her life before him, he’d failed to understand what being famous meant. Experiencing it at her side, with his own two eyes, had been a revelation.

An unpleasant one.

People clamored for her attention, forcing themselves upon Scarlett if she didn’t welcome them with haste. Her mother and agent pestered her repeatedly to coerce her into interviews and interactions she didn’t want. Her freedom was sacrificed for it.

Coming and going from the hospital each day had become a trial for her. A daily gauntlet to be run. Regardless of what entrance they chose, someone always managed to mark her appearance and pressure her for a statement. Her innate kindness didn’t allow her to return the reporters’ insolence in kind. Nor could she deny an autograph begged from her. She hadn’t the luxury of his size or knack of glowering just so to frighten them away.

To his mind, it was a horrendous existence. He couldn’t understand how she’d once described her former life to him with such a blasé attitude. How she lived it now with a patient smile ever on her lips.

“Yer position in this time hinders yer freedom.”

“Kind of like being a countess five hundred years in the past?” she jested. “Always being watched? Criticized for my flaws? Gossiped about? It’s just like being home.”

“But ye love it there.”

“I love you there.”

Laird was silent for a few moments while Scarlett shuffled them down a row of seats until they were at the center of the floor.

“’Twas my impression ye were happy at Dunskirk,” he observed softly. “Are ye truly happy wi’ the choice ye made, mo chroí? Begging Donell to return ye to me?”

Scarlett’s brow furrowed at his tone. She knew him well enough to know his brogue was never so unintelligible and husky like that unless he was either lost in the throes of passion or upset about something. It certainly wasn’t the former at this moment. “You know I am.”

“But only because of my presence?”

Her frown deepened. “You know I’ve never fit in completely there. But I belong with you, Laird. You know I believe that. Do you think any of this has changed my conviction?”

The question was wrought with tension. But then, she’d been tense in the car when they’d left the hospital tonight. Though the men her agent had hired to secure the hospital and suppress the reporters had done a reasonable job of it, many still lingered in hopes of catching a glimpse of her. Nothing she did satisfied them.

Or her mother who’d visited them at the hospital again today. Still more interested in Scarlett’s stardom than her grandchildren. This time with her reporter in tow, giving Scarlett no avenue for escape. She’d given a brief