want to talk to you about my wife's friend. I don't care what it takes, Iain. Drag her here if you have to, all right? I won't have my wife disappointed. She has enough to worry about with the baby coming."
Iain started walking toward the stables. His hands were clasped behind his back, his head bowed in thought. Patrick walked by his side.
"You are aware, aren't you, that if I force this woman, I could very well start a war with her family, and perhaps, if the king decides to take an interest, a war with England?"
Patrick glanced over to see what his brother thought about that remote possibility. Iain was smiling.
Patrick shook his head. "John won't involve himself in this unless he can gain something from it. Her family's going to be the problem. They certainly won't just let her leave on such a journey."
"It could get messy," Iain remarked.
"Will that matter?"
"No."
Patrick let out a sigh. "When will you leave?"
"Tomorrow, at first light. I'll talk to Frances Catherine tonight. I want to know as much as possible about this woman's family."
"There is something Frances Catherine isn't telling me," Patrick said, his voice halting, "She asked me about the feud with the Macleans…"
He didn't go on. Iain was looking at him as though he thought he'd lost his mind. "And you didn't demand she explain whatever the hell it is she's keeping from you?"
"It isn't that simple," Patrick explained. "You have to be… delicate with a wife. In time she'll tell me what she's worrying about. I'll have to be patient. Besides, I'm probably jumping to conclusions. My wife's worrying about everything these days."
The look on Iain's face made Patrick sorry he'd mentioned Frances Catherine's odd behavior.
"I would thank you for going on this journey, but you'd only be insulted."
"This isn't a duty I embrace," Iain admitted. "It will take seven or eight days to reach the holding, and that means at least eight back with a complaining woman on my hands. Hell, I'd rather take on a legion of Macleans single-handedly than suffer this task."
Iain's bleak tone of voice made Patrick want to laugh. He didn't dare, of course, for his brother would only bloody his face if he so much as cracked a smile.
The two brothers walked along in silence for several more minutes, each caught up in his own thoughts.
Patrick suddenly stopped. "You can't force this woman. If she doesn't want to come here, then leave her be."
"Then why the hell am I bothering to go at all?"
"My wife could be right," Patrick rushed out. "Lady Judith Elizabeth might willingly come here."
Iain gave his brother a hard glare. "Willingly? You're out of your mind if you believe that. She's English."
He paused to let out a weary sigh. "She won't willingly come here."
Chapter 2
Contents-Prev |Next
She was waiting on her doorstep.
Lady Judith had been given advance warning, of course. Two days before, her cousin Lucas had spotted the four Scottish warriors just a stone's throw away from the border crossing near Horton Ridge. Lucas hadn't been there by chance, he had been diligently following his aunt Millicent's instructions, and after nearly a month of twiddling his thumbs and daydreaming the early summer evenings away, he'd spotted the Scots. He'd been so surprised to see the full-blooded Highlanders, he almost forgot what he was supposed to do next. Memory quickly returned, however, and he rode at a dust-choking pace all the way to Lady Judith's remote holding to tell her she'd best prepare herself for the visitors.
There hadn't been much for Judith to do to ready herself. Since the day word had reached her through the intricate gossip vine that Frances Catherine was expecting, she'd had most of her baggage packed and all of her friend's gifts wrapped in pretty pink lace ribbons.
Frances Catherine's timing certainly could have been better. Judith had only just returned to her uncle Tekel's holding for her mandatory six-month visit when the message arrived. She couldn't
Iain started walking toward the stables. His hands were clasped behind his back, his head bowed in thought. Patrick walked by his side.
"You are aware, aren't you, that if I force this woman, I could very well start a war with her family, and perhaps, if the king decides to take an interest, a war with England?"
Patrick glanced over to see what his brother thought about that remote possibility. Iain was smiling.
Patrick shook his head. "John won't involve himself in this unless he can gain something from it. Her family's going to be the problem. They certainly won't just let her leave on such a journey."
"It could get messy," Iain remarked.
"Will that matter?"
"No."
Patrick let out a sigh. "When will you leave?"
"Tomorrow, at first light. I'll talk to Frances Catherine tonight. I want to know as much as possible about this woman's family."
"There is something Frances Catherine isn't telling me," Patrick said, his voice halting, "She asked me about the feud with the Macleans…"
He didn't go on. Iain was looking at him as though he thought he'd lost his mind. "And you didn't demand she explain whatever the hell it is she's keeping from you?"
"It isn't that simple," Patrick explained. "You have to be… delicate with a wife. In time she'll tell me what she's worrying about. I'll have to be patient. Besides, I'm probably jumping to conclusions. My wife's worrying about everything these days."
The look on Iain's face made Patrick sorry he'd mentioned Frances Catherine's odd behavior.
"I would thank you for going on this journey, but you'd only be insulted."
"This isn't a duty I embrace," Iain admitted. "It will take seven or eight days to reach the holding, and that means at least eight back with a complaining woman on my hands. Hell, I'd rather take on a legion of Macleans single-handedly than suffer this task."
Iain's bleak tone of voice made Patrick want to laugh. He didn't dare, of course, for his brother would only bloody his face if he so much as cracked a smile.
The two brothers walked along in silence for several more minutes, each caught up in his own thoughts.
Patrick suddenly stopped. "You can't force this woman. If she doesn't want to come here, then leave her be."
"Then why the hell am I bothering to go at all?"
"My wife could be right," Patrick rushed out. "Lady Judith Elizabeth might willingly come here."
Iain gave his brother a hard glare. "Willingly? You're out of your mind if you believe that. She's English."
He paused to let out a weary sigh. "She won't willingly come here."
Chapter 2
Contents-Prev |Next
She was waiting on her doorstep.
Lady Judith had been given advance warning, of course. Two days before, her cousin Lucas had spotted the four Scottish warriors just a stone's throw away from the border crossing near Horton Ridge. Lucas hadn't been there by chance, he had been diligently following his aunt Millicent's instructions, and after nearly a month of twiddling his thumbs and daydreaming the early summer evenings away, he'd spotted the Scots. He'd been so surprised to see the full-blooded Highlanders, he almost forgot what he was supposed to do next. Memory quickly returned, however, and he rode at a dust-choking pace all the way to Lady Judith's remote holding to tell her she'd best prepare herself for the visitors.
There hadn't been much for Judith to do to ready herself. Since the day word had reached her through the intricate gossip vine that Frances Catherine was expecting, she'd had most of her baggage packed and all of her friend's gifts wrapped in pretty pink lace ribbons.
Frances Catherine's timing certainly could have been better. Judith had only just returned to her uncle Tekel's holding for her mandatory six-month visit when the message arrived. She couldn't
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