Highland Scoundrel (Highland Brides) (16 page)

"Twould do no good, of course. She'd only toss the trunk out the window and fall down after it.

Tis not as if she would worry about a few broken bones."

"Indeed not. But whose bones are we talking about?" she asked. She was trying to be patient, but Roderic had begun to pace again, and apparently had forgotten that he didn't share a room with a deaf mute.

"Sneaking out in the midst of the night. What possesses her? Where would she get such an idea?" he asked.

"Indeed. Who would do such a thing?"

He sighed. The tone sounded heavy in the darkness. "Mayhap I should be happy to know she has taken an interest in someone. But..." He paused. "Am I so petty that I need her adoration more than I need her happiness?" he asked. "But she is so bonny, so lovely and fresh," he whispered. "Who could blame me for wanting to hold on to my youth through hers?"

The Flame sat very still in the center of the bed she had shared with her husband for more than a score of years. At times she had been certain no one could hold the Rogue's heart forever. For he was everything that was right about a man, all good strength and fine intention, all bonny muscles and intriguing smiles, and slow, warm hands. Women fell for him at every turn like ripened fruit in autumn. But the years had proved her wrong. Roderic had been true to her—until now, at least. Could it be that after all these years another woman had stolen his heart, had caught his interest? she wondered, still fighting the fog of sleep.

"Roderic," she said softly. "Ye know I am rather fond of ye. But if ye dunna tell me who you're talking of, I'll have to oil the rack."

For a moment there was absolute silence then a snort of laughter as Roderic crossed the room to sit on the bed.

"I speak of Shona, of course!" he said.

Ahh, so her heart was still safe, and he was still loyal—twas mayhap the greatest miracle of her life, but now she must concentrate before he irritated the hell out of her.

"Shona! Our daughter," he said, as if her reticence must prove her confusion. Twas true, she was not the most astute of women when awakened from a sound sleep, but hardly was she likely to forget her own first borne.

She gave him her patient smile, knowing Roderic would be glad he didn't have to see it. "I know she is our daughter."

"Aye, well, she is all yours this night."

Flanna remained silent for a moment and smiled into the darkness. "Ye are giving up your share of her?"

"Aye." He sounded grumpy at best. "Aye. She is a MacGowan through and through."

"Truly?"

"Aye. Do ye know that when I threatened to kill him she had the nerve to take umbrage and—"

The sleep evaporated from Flanna's brain. "Ye threatened to kill someone?"

"Aye, and
he
threatened to kill me if I harmed her. Me! Harm my own daughter."

"Might I ask whom?"

"That Dugald lad," Roderic snarled.

"Dugald?" Her mind was spinning now trying to catch up to her husband's leaping logic. "He protected her from the Rogue? Dugald the Dragon did that?"

Even in the darkness, she could tell he scowled at her. "I truly dunna think he deserves such a grandiose title, wife. What has he done to gain it? I wonder. He did not even compete in the footraces, and I've heard of no great feats he has performed. And if tis just for his looks. Well..." He scoffed.

"He is handsome enough in a bonny sort of way, I suppose, but not all that tall when ye-"

She could not help but laugh. "Mayhap we could debate his attributes at another time," she said.

"For now, ye might just tell me why ye decided to kill him."

"I found them together in his room," Roderic said, his tone dark.

Flanna stiffened immediately. "Who?"

"Dugald and Shona! They were..." He paused, as if he had trouble saying the words aloud. "She was dressed in naught but her nightrail, Flanna, and they were lying on the floor."

There was absolute silence as a wild host of emotions raged through Flanna. But finally reality settled in. They were talking about Shona. Shona! Therefore, nothing was ever as it seemed to be.

"Why?" she asked.

"Why what?"

"Why was she lying on the floor with the lad?"

"Why!" He rose to pace irritably, like a great, leonine beast, treading the boundaries of his domain. “I like to think that after a score of years as my wife ye are not so naive as to be uncertain of the purpose."

"In our daughter's veins races the hot blood of the Forbeses, and my own... more noble blood."

She waited for him to laugh. It wasn't a good sign that he failed. She sighed to herself. In truth, their roles were usually reversed. Twas Roderic who was quick to see the humor in things, but not if his daughter's safety was compromised. "Think on it, Roderic," she said. "Long Shona has been old enough to want what only a man can give her. But long she has resisted. Why would she cease to do so now?"

"She would not be the first sweet innocent lass to be seduced by some evil fellow with a heart of stone and a brain of mush. I meant to kill him immediately, but she..."

He paused.

"She what?"

"She said it was her fault." He said the words most reluctantly, but she heard them nevertheless.

"Our Shona? Our Shona took the blame?"

He nodded as he plopped down on the bed once more.

"Husband," she said, cupping his cheek in her palm. "I fear ye have been dreaming again. Our daughter is the one who causes trouble, not the one who admits to causing trouble."

"Well, she admitted this time."

"Our Shona?" Flanna sat up straighter, her mind spinning. "Are ye certain? The lass with the red hair and the mischievous eyes? The one who drags a gaggle of smitten lads about in her wake?"

"This is not a laughing matter, Wife," Roderic said.

"Nay," she admitted, but she could not quite keep the glee from her voice. For some years she had known she would have to be the one to find a mate for their daughter, for even though Roderic professed his intentions of doing so, it was unlikely he ever would. In truth, he cherished his only daughter too much to let her go to anyone who was less than perfect, and since perfection was a difficult commodity to come by, he probably wouldn't be marrying her off any time soon. "Nay." She returned to their conversation with a start. “Nay, tis surely no laughing matter," she said, but there was laughter in her voice.

He snorted in anger. "Ye women!" he said and jerked away. She caught him by the hand.

"Where are ye going?" she asked.

"It just so happens I've an execution to plan."

"I thought ye had changed your mind."

"Hardly that," he grumbled. "I am but considering how best to see the job done."

She could not help but laugh. "But it's the middle of the night, love. Canna this weighty matter wait until morn?'

"She was in the man's room! Dunna ye realize the significance of this?"

"Did they have sexual intercourse?"

"Flanna!" he snarled. "How dare ye use those words when referring to our daughter?"

"Did they?" she asked.

Roderic paused. "She
said
they had not."

"And ye think she lied?"

He snorted. "She lied about the garden fence. We do not have muskrats here."

It took Flanna a moment to realize he was referring to an episode from years past. "Shona did not actually say muskrats had dug below the fence. She merely said that they
might
have."

"She lied about Blind William's ram."

Flanna felt a soft wave of nostalgia as she remembered their daughter as a small energetic lass with too big a heart and too wide a reach. "She didna say the foolish ram
had
eaten too many bluebells, just that twas a possibility. In truth, she was just trying to save poor William some effort. If the wool was dyed aforehand, twould save a step in the cloth-making process."

"Heaven's wrath, wife!" Roderic swore. "Tis not your place to defend her. Tis mine."

"I'm rather enjoying the chance," she said. "Mayhap ye are making too much of this."

"Too much of this! We are not speaking of a stinky ram or Bethia's long-suffering kitchen garden. We are speaking of our daughter's virtue."

"And ye think she would compromise that?" Flanna asked softly. "Ye think she would when there was a chance of hurting ye?" She drew him gently nearer. "The man she has adored since the very day of her birth. The man who took one look at her wee face all squashed and purple, and proclaimed her the fairest flower in all the world.”

"Twas not squashed and purple," he murmured. "Twas lovely beyond words. Her mother's daughter."

"The man who would say things like that," she said. Turning his hand over, Flanna kissed his fingertips, his palm and his wrist. Roderic drew a slow breath.

"The man whom she loves above all others," she added.

"Our wee lass is growing up. Growing away from us," he said.

"Nay, never away from her sire," she argued, and tugged at his belt until it came loose. His plaid fell away in heavy, woolen folds, exposing the hard evidence of her effect on him. She kissed his neck as she loosened his cat-face brooch. "Never away from the Rogue. She would not do that, and hence she would not chance hurting ye by fornicating right under our noses."

He sighed.

"Unless..." She smiled mischievously with her grin hidden against his neck. “Unless this Dugald the Dragon is as spectacular as his name implies."

"Gawd's wrath!" Roderic snarled. "I've decided. I'm going to have him skewered and—"

“Now?'' She could not help chuckling as she slipped her hand down his body to his obvious arousal.

Roderic cleared his throat as her fingers settled gently over him. "Right now," he said, but his tone was softer.

She stroked him gently. "But couldn't it await the morn? After all, I've done nothing wrong, husband. Tis no reason I should suffer a dearth of your company because of this night's foul events."

She watched his head fall back slightly as she stroked him. His flaxen hair brushed the great strength of his shoulders as his body tensed. "Ye are right, I suppose," he groaned. "Mayhap the punishment will be all the worse if he has to wait to receive it."

"Aye," she whispered. "And mayhap our pleasure shall be all the greater."

Shona sat up with a start. Flanna couldn't help but notice she looked rather pale.

"Mother!" she said, her voice raspy with sleep. "I..." She shifted her gaze to the closed door as if wondering if her father would be barging in at any moment. “What might ye be doing here?'' she asked.

The sweetness in her voice could have kept her usual gaggle of swains woozy for a month.

There was not a soul in all of Christendom that could cause more trouble yet look more innocent than Roderic's headstrong daughter.

"I fear ye well know why I've come," Flanna said, keeping her tone absolutely level, and hoping she herself could play the actress half so well as her daughter. She was taking a huge gamble here, she knew, but two facts stood clearly out in her mind. Shona had accepted blame for the situation, and even more important, Kinnaird had vowed to protect her. True, Flanna knew little of the man with the eerie eyes and the seductive smile. But she knew one thing—only a fool or a hero would stand up against Roderic the Rogue—and Dugald was no man's fool, of that she was certain. "Tis a matter of grave import," she said, warming to her task. "Indeed, a man's very life depends on your answers."

"A man's life?" Shona's emerald eyes opened even wider, seeming to swallow her face.

"I have never seen your father so angry," Flanna said, and fidgeted as she seated herself beside Shona. "So ye must tell me the truth. Did the lad called Dugald disgrace ye?"

"Disgrace me?" Shona fiddled suddenly with her blanket, scrunching it in her hands. "Nay, Mother, he—"

"Shona!" Flanna interrupted sharply. Her daughter—a master at the game of words. “Today ye must tell me the absolute truth. Did ye fornicate with this Dugald Kinnaird?"

Shona's mouth fell open slightly and her cheeks turned pink. Flanna silently congratulated herself. It was not so simple a task to shock her daughter. But she seemed to have succeeded.

"Nay! I did not."

Flanna let out a great gust of air and allowed her body to slump slightly as if she might swoon with relief. "I canna tell ye how happy I am to hear that. That is to say..." She rose quickly to pace the narrow room. "Tis a well known fact that your father adores ye, and true, tis his job to see that your virtue is safe, but emasculation..."

"Emasculation!"

Flanna turned toward Shona. She had thought the lass pale before, now her nightrail looked dark by comparison.

"I dunna think he deserves that even if—" Flanna began, but Shona interrupted her.

"Emasculation!”
she squeaked again.

"Listen daughter," Flanna said, hurrying back to sink onto the girl's bed. "I can understand how ye might find the man desirable. After all, he is quite a spectacular specimen, and your father told me how he was willing to defend ye even knowing Roderic's reputation with a sword. But ye must be a realist."

"A realist?"

Flanna nodded earnestly and reached for Shona's hand with both of her own. "Certainly we want ye to be happy, Daughter, to find an agreeable husband. But this Dugald..." She paused.

Shona scowled, creasing a single line in her fair brow. "I dunna know what ye are saying."

"Ye are a MacGowan, Daughter. The blood of kings flows through your veins. France's kings, plus our own. Ye canna wed this Dugald."

"Wed him! I have no intention of wedding him. I dunna even
like
him."

"Nay?" Flanna tightened her grasp on her daughter's hand. "Truly? Then why were ye in his room?"

Shona's cheeks turned pink again. "Tis rather a long tale, I fear."

Flanna smiled. "Ye are, after all, the daughter of the Rogue. I would expect nothing less than a lengthy tale."

"I, ahh...I was sleeping."

Flanna nodded.

"A noise awakened me. I worried for Kelvin, so I rushed into the hall to see what had caused the stir. I thought I saw a shadow moving, so I followed it. Then I lost it. So I thought..." She scowled as if trying to remember. "I thought I would look in the stable."