Mystic Mountains

contempt it made her ache with despair.
    "Lost your tongue?" he drawled.
    "No, my tongue is still as sharp as ever. And as for finding you wanting, you were and are all that I could expect an Englishman to be." Her lip curled, while inside she quaked. How could he still have this effect on her? Clenching her fists, she hid them beneath the folds of her skirt, despising the weakness that made her yearn to reach out and touch him, to feel once more his skin beneath her fingers. How she hated him for bringing forth this desire in her.
    "So, you ran away from one English pig only to wallow in filth with other men who are no better." His beautiful mouth curled.
    "Do I look as if I'm wallowing in filth? At least I now have fine clothes to wear. Do you like my gown?" She twirled once and his eyes narrowed.
    "I gave you a fine gown and you ripped it to shreds." As if he couldn 't help himself he reached out to touch her. With a soft gasp she backed away. "Do you know how much anguish you've put us all through, Bella? Why did you run away like that? We thought you dead."
    "No doubt you were relieved to be rid of me. I wrote you a letter to let you know my intentions." She turned her back on him, unable to face the contempt in his eyes.
    "The letter contained the barest details. Dougal was out of his mind with worry; Thelma too."
    He was so close she could feel his warm breath on her nape. She shuddered. "I 'm sorry for that. Both are my dear friends. I didn't wish to hurt them." Her voice held a distinct tremor.
    "But you wished to hurt me. Is that why you did i t? To be revenged on me?"
    "You? " she spat. "You have no heart. How can someone who is filled with nothing of substance be hurt by someone else? You care for no one but yourself."
    "Isabella! What in hell 's name is taking you so long?" Fergus roared, bustling along the verandah. His eyes took on a menacing stare as he faced Tiger. "Well, if it isn't Tiger Carstairs. Keep your hands off the wench. She's mine." He clutched Isabella's arm.
    "On the contrary, the lady 's mine. She belongs to me, Brunt. Every last lock of her hair is mine." Tiger's voice was smooth, but there was no mistaking the menace beneath his level tone.
    "What 's going on here . . .? Ah, Tiger—how are you my dear?" Selena swept along the verandah, Gareth at her heels. "I wondered where you were, Bella. We thought this naughty boy here had whisked you off out of sight." Playfully she tapped Fergus on the arm.
    "Selena. I might have guessed you'd be behind it," Tiger said.
    "Behind what?" Selena fluttered her long lashes.
    "Don't act the innocent. What the hell do you mean by turning the girl into a painted harlot?"
    Selena sniggered. Isabella fumed. "I 'm not a girl, in case you haven't noticed. And stop talking about me as if I'm not here." With hands on hips she glared at him. "I decided to stay with Selena of my own free will. She kindly bought me this gown, and she's fed and clothed me."
    "Of course. Selena has always been well known for helping people in need of a roof and a meal," Tiger said with harsh sarcasm.
    "Darling, do I detect a note of peevishness in your tone?" Selena retorted.
    Isabella turned on her heel. "I don 't have to listen to this."
    "Quite right, you don 't," Fergus agreed. "We were just heading off, Selena. The wench and I are tired of dancing. We have more important games to play." He waved as he began to saunter after Isabella.
    Tiger grasped the raised arm, dragging him to an abrupt halt. Fergus gasped and stared down at the hand securing him.
    "The wench, as you put it, is heading nowhere with you," Tiger said. "You seem to be hard of hearing, Brunt. She belongs to me. I own her. Do you understand: she's serving her sentence out with me. I have official papers stating I have her services until at least 1825. She ran away from me, and our dear Selena here took it on herself to convince her to follow the same downward path she treads." Tiger's teeth gritted as he outstared the smaller man.
    "Don 't adopt that condescending tone, Tiger Carstairs," Selena crowed. "You were more than happy to share my bed before your insipid Irish wench took your fancy. I don't know what you did to her but she was more than happy to come under my wing."
    "I 'll wager she was." Tiger swore as he wagged a finger under her nose. "You planned it well I'll give you credit for that."
    "Why, thank you. I must admit I am quite proud of myself." Selena preened. "The chit fell into my