Loving the Scot Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
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But, so what?

I like to look at him and listen to him.

He is a gorgeous man, and his passion for the land makes him even more attractive.

If I can spend some more time in his presence, even if it doesn’t come to anything later, why not?

“That would be great, then,” I say, taking the last sip of my coffee to underscore the point.

Finlay tosses the rest of his own cup back and stands up with a grin, offering me his hand. I take it to stand up from the chair, and, just like before, I feel a spark of electricity passing between our hands.

There’s something magical between us already.

Maybe it’s just because I’m already feeling dizzy with how hot he is.

“Alright,” he says, taking on a tone that makes him sound like a real tour guide as he ushers me out of the room and back into the grand entrance hall.

I notice the hall’s stunning appearance with the dark wood paneling on the walls and ceiling, delicate vases that look to date back to an earlier time sitting on side tables under impressive stately portraits of men in formal clothing, and stone floors that looked like marble.

“How much do you know about the way estates are run up here? Lairds and so on?”

“I don’t know anything,” I confess, wishing I had some knowledge so I could try to impress him.

“Well, these blokes here are all previous Lairds,” he says, gesturing around at the portraits on the walls. The men in the paintings were all somewhat stoic, with big bushy whiskers hiding half of their faces, and all of them, without fail, had a couple of hunting dogs sitting at their feet.

“These are the generations of men who have ruled over the estate. Of course, these days, it’s more of a business title – like a CEO, I guess – but it was a bit more feudal back then.

“The Laird was responsible for the entire estate–the land, the grand house, and usually a village or town that was part of the estate’s land. He’d be part of a distinct clan that may have historical roots, and many of the local people would also be part of the same clan.”

“Oh! And each of the clans has their own tartan,” I say, glad to at last have one thing I have heard of before. “Isn’t that right?”

“That’s right,” Finlay grins, leading me a few steps to the right. We stand in front of a portrait of a man who looks to be from a pretty distant time, wearing a full tartan kilt. “This is the tartan of the clan that runs this estate.”

I admire the green and darker green stripes, the pattern laid with a single bright line of teal intersecting it at key moments.

“It’s pretty,” I say.

Finlay laughs, gesturing at the portrait. “I don’t think the eleventh Laird would have agreed with you, but I can certainly see what you mean. Let’s go out and get in one of the buggies so you can rest your feet, and I’ll show you the rest of the land.”

“A buggy?” I ask, following him back out of the hall and onto the wide-sweeping gravel drive that leads off toward a road in the distance. “Isn’t that damaging to the land itself?”

“It’s as little damage as we can do while still getting around,” Finlay says, leading me toward a few identical vehicles parked beside the house. “They’re electric – we charge them up here, giving us enough juice to get around the estate a couple of times. They’re lightweight, too, so they do as little damage as possible to the soil. Of course, we still make tracks and leave our mark, but it’s the best option we have for getting around and tending to all the areas of the estate.”

“I see.”

I hope I didn’t offend him by suggesting it isn’t the best way to get around, but he doesn't seem to mind. He opens the doors for me, and I hop inside, my mind buzzing with a warm feeling at the fact he is so gentlemanly.

He closes the door for me and walks around to get into the driver’s seat. Just for that moment, I feel a tiny bit empty. The fact that he isn’t with me anymore.

Get a grip! You only just met, and it’s not like you’ll see each other again after today.

“Alright,” he says, starting up the engine. “So, some traditional titles come along with the land other than the Laird. We also have a Ghillie. Now, back when we were a more traditional estate, the job of the Ghillie was to run the hunts. Now it’s more about looking after the land.

“See, a Ghillie knows the animals and the land, where they graze, where they sleep, and their trails. It’s a good fit for many skills that transfer to a conservation officer.”



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