Page 269 of Wicked Highland Heroes

A lump formed in Rhoslyn’s throat. “He said that?”

Taresa’s eyes narrowed. “He did not tell you that? Men,” she said with vehemence. “They can be such fools. We will speak with him.”

“Nay,” Rhoslyn blurted.

“Do not be afraid, little one, I can deal with him. Remember, he is my grandson.” She leaned close. “He does not yet know what that means, but I will teach him.”

Rhoslyn laughed. “I am certain you will. But you misunderstand. Tal-St. Claire has assured me how pleased he is we are to have a child.”

Taresa studied her. “You are certain?”

She nodded. “I promise. In this, he has done all he should.”

“In this?” Taresa repeated.

“Forgive me, Taresa, I do no’ mean to speak badly of him.”

“But...” the older woman urged.

Rhoslyn hesitated, then realized Lady Taresa was not a woman easily fooled. It wouldn’t be long before she understood that Rhoslyn politically opposed her grandson. Would she guess how deep the division ran?

“Talbot has been good to me,” she said, and it was true.

“But that is not all,” Taresa said.

It should be enough, Rhoslyn mentally replied. But it wasn’t. “Do ye know John Comyn?” she asked.

“Of course. He is one of the Guardians.”

“He is the brother-in-law to John Balliol,” Rhoslyn said.

“Ahh,” Taresa intoned. “And you fear Talbot will follow his lead and support Balliol.”

“Aye,” Rhoslyn replied. “Balliol is too amenable to Edward. Robert Bruce is a far better choice for the crown.”

“Indeed?” Taresa said. “Have you forgotten that Robert has been amenable to Edward on many occasions? Not the least of which is agreeing to appoint him arbiter of Scotland?”

Rhoslyn nodded. “Robert hasna’ been perfect. Who has? But he is loyal to Scotland. Balliol is nothing more than an English puppet.”

“You fear for your country and, perhaps, how your children will be used as pawns?” Taresa said.

“I am sorry,” she replied. “I know this is no’ the familial harmony ye seek.”

Taresa laughed. “I am Spanish, my dear. Familial harmony only means we do not kill one another.” A twinkle lit her eye. “We love a good fight. I think you and my grandson will fight well.”

That was exactly what Rhoslyn feared.

* * *

Talbot stared down at Rhoslyn, her back turned to him in her bed. He wasn’t fooled. She wasn’t asleep.

He sat on the mattress beside her. “Are you feeling better?”

“I am fine,” she replied.

“You are not pleased?” he asked. “Your children will be nobility.”

“My children will have my noble blood in them,” she replied.