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Fife, Scotland, 1715

When Morag heard his footsteps echoing up the staircase from below, anticipation lit inside her It was always that way At the appointed time she would unlock the secret entrance—a door at the rear of the building and a hidden staircase that led into the upstairs lodgings at the Drover’s Inn—in preparation for Duggan Moore’s arrival Once she had prepared his route and assured herself no one else watched, she was supposed to return to her chores in the inn, but she would often linger in the shadows hoping to catch sight of hiood excuse, because she had a tray of provisions for theShe waited in the dressing rooan, for he was a man who always stirred her womanly desires

His tall figure loo into view as the light fro rapidly on to the landing and beyond, as usual, he paused and peered over at the shadowy corner where she stood, his eyebrows dra as he studied his observer

Morag’s hand went to her chest Would he chastise her for being there?

“Morag,” he said as he closed the panel behind hiht wavered as it clicked shut, casting shadows across his rugged features

He kneas her Her breath caught in her throat “Sire, forgive me I did not meant to startle you, I have a tray for Mr Grant”

He stepped closer then drew her out of the shadows and into the fall of light fro down at her with curiosity Breathlessly she looked up at hie and sturdy, with thick, dark hair to his shoulders and a broad forehead and cheekbones With his hands around her waist, he held her easily

“And why are you here in the shadows,” he asked, “and not taking that tray to him?”

“I…” What reason could she give? “I wished to see you”

“You have a e for me?”

Curses She had made matters worse Heat burned in her cheeks