Page 267 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“Ye would do well to claim it before it comes looking for you,” Seward said.

Concern, the first true concern since he’d seen Lady Taresa ride into the village, niggled. He fixed his gaze on Comyn. “What have you done, my lord?”

“I am no’ your lord. As to what I have done, I need do nothing. Taresa’s relatives will take care of matters.”

“They can have the title,” Talbot said.

Comyn lifted his brows. “Out of the kindness of your heart, I take it?”

“I have no desire to be a Scottish nobleman.”

“You are known for your loyalty to Edward,” Davey said. “Where is that loyalty now?”

Seward snorted. “It sounds like Davey is confusing you with your brother, St. Claire.”

“At least he would understand the importance of supporting his king,” Davey said.

“Christ, Davey,” Comyn said. “Ye are making an ass of yourself.” Comyn glanced at Talbot. “St. Claire doesna’ tolerate fools.” The Guardian’s expression sobered. “Ye havena’ had any luck in finding your brother?”

“If I had, he would be dead.”

“He may not be the fool you think he is,” Davey said.

Comyn’s gaze jerked onto him. “Another word from ye, Davey, and I will whip you here and now.”

“Dinna’ act as if you do no’ want him to support your kinsman,” Seward said.

“I have Scotland’s interests at heart,” Comyn said.

“Ye have your interests at heart,” Seward said.

“Will ye squabble over politics now, Hugo?” Comyn shifted his attention to Talbot. “Will your son feel as you do about giving up his birthright? More important, will the Kenzies take your word that ye will never dispute their claim?” He paused. “Will your wife and children be safe when you are gone?”

Anger tore through Talbot. “Even if I claim the title, they will never be safe. You have ensured that.”

“Nay, lad. Ye sealed your fate when you immortalized your sister on your arm.”

* * *

Rhoslyn could scarce believe it. Her husband had accepted the title as the Earl of Baliman. She nodded for more wine to the boy waiting near the table, then leaned close to Lady Taresa and said in a whisper loud enough to be heard over the din of the evening meal, “Is there anything more ye need, my lady?”

Lady Taresa laid a hand on Rhoslyn’s. “Please call me Taresa. Perhaps one day you will call me Grandmother.” She hesitated, then added, “Will you allow me to stay with you when your time comes?”

Emotion squeezed Rhoslyn’s heart. She didn’t remember her mother and the thought of another woman, family, being present during the birth of her child brought the prick of tears. God help her, she was growing weepy.

“Aye, my la—er, Taresa. I would be pleased for ye to be with me when the babe comes.”

Sir Derek appeared at the table to Taresa’s right, leaned down and whispered something in her ear. She paused, listening, then nodded. He left and she returned her attention to Rhoslyn.

“He is very devoted to you,” Rhoslyn said.

“He is.” Taresa’s gaze shifted onto the knight, who made his way through the crowded hall toward the postern door. “He has served me for fifteen years. I trust him with my life.”

And more, Rhoslyn suspected. It was obvious the knight was in love with his mistress. Rhoslyn marveled. She never suspected a love affair could carry on so late in a woman’s life and with a man so much younger.

Taresa looked back at her. “I never hoped to have a grandchild, much less a great grandchild,” Taresa said. “I am very pleased. I hope you and my grandson will visit Narlton Keep soon.”

“St. Claire might come, but not me. At least, not until he finds his brother.”