A Time & Place for Every Laird by Angeline Fortin (reading comprehension books .txt) 📗

away, fisting his hand. What cowardice was this? He who hadfaced foes armed with deadly blades, frightened by the unknown?Where was his vaunted bravery now?

A humorless laugh broke the silence of theroom, and Hugh doggedly gripped the doorknob once again and openedthe door to a cold rush of air.

Chapter 5

His savior did not notice Hugh as he stoodat the bottom of the stairs leading to her great room, such as itwas. Though her home had two stories, he was surprised that itconsisted of only two bedchambers, the bathing chamber, and thissingle space that housed not only her parlor but her kitchens aswell. Though it was not large and was rather stark in comparison,many of the courts of Europe did not sport such extravagances asSorcha’s residence. The bath chamber and privy were extraordinary,the carpet beneath his feet thick and luxurious. The walls weresmoothly plastered, with lanterns set into the ceilings that litwith the flick of a switch. His prison had been similarly lit, andthough Hugh had contemplated them for weeks, he could not fathomhow they worked.

Or how the monitors projected the imagescaught by the eye. Or how the cars worked.

More than anything, he could not fathom whatmore might await him beyond these walls. A part of him did nottruly want to know, but Sorcha’s question troubled him. The truthcould not be ignored. Hugh knew nowhere in the world where suchthings were possible, and the answers – as difficult as they mightbe to hear – would have to come from her.

It hadn’t been difficult to locate Sorcha –he refused to think of her any other way. She sat in a chair,staring into space, apparently oblivious to the constant hum ofsound that seemed typical of this place. She was a lovely woman, hethought. He had noticed so before when she had come into hisprison. Taller than most women he knew, Sorcha was willowy withbright auburn hair and large eyes so blue that they were almostviolet. Rimmed in impossibly long, dark lashes and a modestapplication of kohl, her expressive eyes dominated her lovely,delicate face.

He had to wonder at her age. She lookedyoung in years. Her skin was unlined and luminous as a child’s, yetshe spoke and moved with a confidence that belied youth. Of course,any man, anywhere knew better than to ask such a question. In anycase, with her mannish garb, slouching posture, and unrefinedaccent, it was clear she was no lady by society’s standards, thoughshe had earned his reluctant respect by standing her ground in theface of his anger. “My thanks, Sorcha,” Hugh said to garner herattention.

Claire started and turned to him, recoveringher calm enough to offer casually, “You were in there a longtime.”

Hugh shifted, wishing for some way to avoidthe conversation that he knew was looming before them. “The hotwater is gone. My apologies.”

She frowned. His broguewas really almost impossible to interpret. It was like nothingshe’d ever heard on Downton Abbeyor in the movies. His r’s rolled; “ing” did not seem toexist in his language at all; his vowels were exaggerated,the e’sbecoming eh’s;multisyllabic words were compacted; and on top of that nearly everyword was slurred into the next. With his voice already so deep andgruff, the combination was nearly incomprehensible. +

Oddly enough, his words weren’t whatdistracted her the most. It was his hair. Now that it was clean,she realized it wasn’t black, as she had thought, but a rich brownthreaded with golden highlights that even the best hairstylistcouldn’t duplicate. The once stringy, crusty locks now looked softand curled only a little before they reached his shoulders. Eventhe full, shaggy beard looked better on him. She could still seenothing of his face but for those blue eyes peering from beneathhis thick brows, but Hugh looked infinitely more human, if notexactly civilized.

But still impatient… particularly when sheonly looked at him blankly.

“I’m sorry. I have a hard time understandingyou,” Claire explained.

Hugh repeated his words more slowly.

“Oh,” she waved a hand. “There will be morelater.”

“And for the clothing,” he added. The shirtwas simple and unadorned, snug but soft, and gave freely with hismovements. The breeches were much the same, stretching to mold tohis calves and thighs as comfortably as a second skin. “Hae I yerhusband tae thank?”

Her eyes shifted, running down his lengthwith something akin to despondency. “Well, we couldn’t have youwearing those dirty clothes again, could we? I think they arebeyond hope. We might have to just throw them away. Your necklaceis on the counter though.”

Unreasonably, Hugh’s heart clenched at thethought of losing any of his few personal belongings, but he noddedtightly, turning away to retrieve his medallion. He fingered thecool metal, thinking of the father he had hardly known, whose onlylegacy now rested worlds apart from where he should be. Slippingthe heavy chain over his head, Hugh felt the now familiar anxietywelling up in him once more. What would happen to his home? Hispeople? Hugh needed to return as soon as possible.

If a return was even possible. Ruthlesslypushing the thought aside for a moment longer, Hugh moved deeperinto the room, taking time to study the effects in Sorcha’s home hehadn’t noticed before. He ran his hand along the fine velvetyfabric of Sorcha’s cushioned settee, felt the smooth wooden floorsbeneath his feet. A knitted blanket was thrown over another chairnear the fireplace.

Ignoring the horrifying device affixed tothe wall above the fireplace, Hugh focused on the items on themantle. A finely done portrait of a young man was propped there,leaning back against the wall. He was quite stern in appearance,clothed in what was obviously a military uniform of some sort.Other smaller portraits were propped nearby. Hugh picked up one ofthe man with Sorcha. The soldier was cradling Sorcha in his arms,and she was garbed in a white gown. She held a small bouquet offlowers in her hand. Both looked quite happy. Her wedding portrait,perhaps? Regardless, the detail in the paintings wasphenomenal.

Other objects crowded the wooden mantle aswell. A piece of cloth folded into a triangle. Medals, some framedand others hanging by wide ribbons, were plentiful. There were flatpieces of wood