“Thenwhy did ye bed her?”
“Becauseshe makes me burn.”
Beathamsnorted with disgust. “At your age ye should have learned to temper that need.”
“Atmy age?” Ruari sat up and glared at his young cousin. “Heed me, ye impudentwhelp, I didnaelurethat lass into my bed. She burns for me as hotly asI do for her and made her choice.”
“Nay,she is a lady. Did ye promise her marriage or speak falsely of love?”
“Yedinnae have the highest opinion of me, do ye, laddie?”
“Oh,aye, the highest. ‘Tis just that I understand the games a mon will play to drawa lass to his bed.”
“Weel,I dinnae play them. I never have. I told Sorcha exactly what I sought—thepassion we couldnae hide—no more, no less. She kens that I willnae offermarriage or vows of love and that one day I will make her pay for taking us asprisoner for ransom.”
“Yetshe still came to your bed?” Beatham’s voice was soft with shock.
“Aye—willingly,eagerly.”
“Thisis hard to believe. Margaret always speaks so highly of her cousin.” Beathamsighed and shook his head. “I am in difficulty now. Margaret will wish to kenwhat words passed between us, and I cannae tell her that her cousin is but awhore.”
Ruariacted without thought. Even Beatham’s cry of alarm did not penetrate the hazeof rage clouding his mind. He bounded to his feet, grasped Beatham by the frontof his jupon and backhanded the youth across the face. It was not until Beathamhit the floor, sprawling gracelessly at his feet, that Ruari began to realizewhat he was doing. He stared down at the wide-eyed young man as he took severaldeep breaths to cool his fury, his fists clenching and unclenching at hissides.
“Thatwas wondrous strange,” Beatham murmured as Ruari finally helped him to hisfeet.
“Aye,it was.”
Verystrange, Ruari thought to himself as he sighed and dragged his fingers throughhis hair. He moved to pour himself and Beatham some cider as he considered hisactions. Why, when he had no plans to marry her or love her and even intendedto exact some revenge, should an insult to Sorcha cause him such rage? A simplereprimand should have been enough. Such a strong reaction was disturbing. Ithinted at a deeper entanglement than he wished to acknowledge or even wanted.As he handed Beatham a tankard of strong cider, Ruari decided it was indeed avery good thing he would be leaving soon.
“SorchaHay is no whore, Beatham,” he said after a steadying drink of the hearty cider.“I believe the lass has carried the weight of Dunweare for so long she thinksmuch like a mon. ‘Tis clear from the way she and Margaret can handle theirweapons that they were taught many of a mon’s ways.”
“Theyneed to be prepared to help defend Dunweare,” Beatham said. “There are too fewmen here.”
“Aye,verra few. ‘Tis that which makes these women different. Ye cannae judge them asye would judge a lady of court. These women arenae pampered, sheltered, andkept tied to their needlework. Sorcha considered the matter much as a mon wouldand made her decision. She kens the possible consequences of taking a lover andaccepts them.”
“Ifind this most confusing. How can ye bed a woman against who ye intend to seekrevenge, and how can she bed you kenning your intentions?”
“Becausewe agreed that the passion we share should be a thing apart.”
“Butif the passion is so strong, why dinnae ye just wed her?”
“Canye see Sorcha Hay at court? I will introduce her to our king, she will do hercurtsy, and then begin to chatter to the spirit floating at his shoulder.” Hegrinned when Beatham gave a reluctant laugh. “Nay, I must seek a wife who issuited to my position and may e’en enhance it. Ye carry the same burden,” headded, grasping the moment to remind Beatham that Margaret Hay was no moresuitable as a wife than Sorcha was.
AllRuari got in reply was a sulky muttered response, and Beatham quickly took hisleave. A soft curse escaped Ruari as he refilled his tankard. Beatham was notmaking any attempt to restrain his feelings toward Margaret Hay. It would causethe youth heartbreak later, for Ruari knew he and Beatham’s family could notease their stand on the sort of marriage the boy had to make. Margaret hadneither the money nor the standing Beatham needed in a wife. If he had to bowto the weight of his responsibilities, his young cousin could do the same,Ruari thought crossly then glared at the door and wondered where Sorcha was.
“Sorcha?”Neil called as she entered the kitchen.
Settingthe bread on the tray she intended to take up to Ruari, Sorcha smiledtentatively over her shoulder at her aunt. Her chores had taken far more timethan she had planned, even though several people had marveled at how swiftlyshe had worked. Now she was eager to get back to Ruari. Sorcha knew the timethey could spend together was short, and she did not wish to waste one preciousminute of it. She hoped Neil was not about to tell her that something requiredher immediate attention.
“Iseverything all right?” she asked her aunt, frowning a little when the twokitchen maids scurried out of the room. “Now, where are they hurrying away to?”
“Iwaved them out of here,” Neil replied as she sat down at the table. “Sit,” sheordered, pointing to the rough bench in front of Sorcha, then nodded when herniece did as she was told. “I think we need to talk.”
“Haveye been coerced into reprimanding me by the others?”
“Nay,no one wishes to reprimand you. We are just concerned. None of us wish to seeye get hurt.”
“Thatis most kind, but ye ken, better than all others, that ye cannae shelter mefrom that.”
