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

of his pecs and those rippling abs. He wasbreathtaking, drawing the eyes of every woman aboard, and every oneof them, right down to the last octogenarian eyeballing him, wasclearly tempted to run her hands over that chest.

Sexy, in a word, didn’tsay enough. It stood to reason that anywoman would want him. From his own conceited comments, many had.But he wasn’t the only hot guy in the world. After the swooningendorsements of her friends, Claire had rented the movieMagic Mike. Hot bodieshad abounded. Muscles had rippled.

And she had felt nothingmore than detached appreciation. Not one of them physicallycompared to Hugh … well, perhaps JoeManganiello did. Wasn’t that why so many women lovedTrue Blood?

Years of nothing, not aspark. Now there was definitely something. An earth-shatteringsomething that flared between them each time the distraction ofentertainment and humor waned. Why Hugh?Why now?

“Sorcha?”

Claire jumped and felt a blush creeping upher neck as she turned to look at Hugh, taking in the bemusementthat told her he must have called her name more than once. Exhalingheavily, Claire fought the urge to fan the flaming of her cheeksthat couldn’t be cooled by the wind alone. “Sorry, I must havezoned out there for a minute. What did you say?”

“I was asking about that.” Hugh pointed upat the sky, and Claire identified the airplane for him, referringback to her conversation about 9/11 and the hijacked planes. Hughpropped a hip against the rail and crossed his arms with a scowl.“Ye maun think me a veritable simpleton for asking so manyquestions, especially when ye need tae repeat yerself.”

“Ignorance is a far cry from idiocy, Hugh,”Claire said, setting aside her surprisingly lustful musings andreaching out to squeeze his hand consolably. Usually herexplanations were met with an impossibly attractive sheepish grinbut today Hugh seemed more disgruntled by his lack of knowledge. “Adescription is much different than actually seeing something.”

So far that day, Hugh had asked only a fewquestions, but Claire knew that he had many more that spoke not tothe wonderment but to his trepidation about his place in this time.After speaking of his fears initially on the ferry into Bainbridgetwo nights before and on the beach the previous morning, she knewHugh disliked vocalizing his reservations, not wanting to appearweak or unmanly. That was something that had probably been driveninto him since birth. She doubted that men of his time and heritagewere even allowed to consider having a feminine side.

But how strange it all must seem to him!Alien, he had said that night on the ferry. How must it look inbroad daylight? Claire tried to put herself in his shoes, andlooked around as well, contemplating how drastically the world hadchanged since his time. Buildings of today had made even theskyline of a city unrecognizable to him. Then to fill that citywith the billions of innovations that had emerged in the past threecenturies!

Aware that he was still stewing in hisupset, Claire offered, “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I would betthere’s a thing or two you could teach me and everyone else in thiscentury. Dozens of things, probably.”

Hugh snorted. “Such as how tae assemble somepuir wee sowel’s toy?”

Claire rolled her eyes atthe harsh retort. Boy, he made her do that a lot. He was just sofrustrating. Challenging. Invigorating. Whoa, girl, back on topic, shechided herself. “Or how to get that perfect shine on your suit ofarmor,” she teased, trying to draw him away from his dark thoughts.“Come on, Hugh! What did you do for a living? I can’t believe Ididn’t ask.”

“I was a duke, a gentleman,” he said almostsullenly, turning away to look at the cityscape once again. “I hadnae occupation.”

“Hugh!” she gasped. “If I didn’t knowbetter, I’d swear you’re being deliberately obstinate!”

“Dare I insult ye wi’ another historylesson?” he grouched.

Claire gaped at his surly tone. “Is thereanything I can do to stop you?”

“Gentlemen of my time and station wereraised by nannies and governesses before we were shipped off taeschool and then university,” he told her in arch tones. “Afterwhich we embarked on our Grand Tour, which was meant only tae fillour time and allow us tae sow our oats until we inherited ourfather’s wealth.”

“Poor, poor, Duke Hugh,” she drawled, herpatience tested, “leading a life of luxury and privilege. Now I dofeel bad for you.”

“Yer sarcasm is unwelcome.”

“And so is this woe is mebullshit,” Claire shot back, enjoying his wide-eyed stare at herwords. “Yes, you heard me! You have met some of the greatest men inhistory! Most people in this time would envy you that.I envy you! Anyhistorian would grovel at your feet for just one tiny morsel ofwhat you know about how your time really was, and you worry aboutholding the can opener backwards? Hugh, you could write a bookabout Voltaire filled with things you consider insignificant thatwould fascinate millions of people and probably win you a Pulitzer,and you think that you have nothing to offer?”

Claire drew in a deep breath, her mindbuzzing with the truth of her words. Hugh was amazing! Incredible!He had seen the world, befriended some of the most remarkable menin history, and he thought he had little to recommend himself? Thetruth of the matter was that there was little Claire could offerHugh, once he found his stride in this century. How ridiculous tothink that she could match such a worldly man. How humbling thateighteen years of education and her hopes of completing herdoctorate one day left her feeling intellectually inferior.

But whatever Hugh had been in the past,humble might not have been one of them. “In my years in Europe, Iwrote as well. If my works were nae brilliant enough tae stand thetest of time once, I doubt this time would be any different.”

“Is that what this is all about?” she askedmore compassionately. “You didn’t find your book in Robert’slibrary so you believe you failed? Millions, billions of books havebeen written since the Bible, Hugh. They can’t all be in one of thetwo places you’ve been since you’ve been here.”

That haughty brow went up again. “Hae yeever heard of me? Did my name survive through history alongsidethose I collaborated wi’? Nae,