Silver Flame

Chapter 6

“L ife or death?” Lord Logan asked as he and Farthing entered the great hall. The guests had refreshed themselves and were now assembling for dinner.

Farthing calmly met Lord Logan’s gaze as he answered the hushed question. “Aye. I swear it upon my immortal soul, m’lord.” He glanced toward one of the Brodie retinue who lurked close by them.

“Aye,” muttered William, briefly glaring at the man Farthing had noticed. “I am spied upon in my own hall, a sore abuse of my hospitality. Daylight cannae come too soon for my liking.” He glanced toward Lady Brodie as he led Farthing to the head table. “And that wench eyes ye verra hungrily, m’lad.”

“And ye, m’lord. Best beware or your lady wife might become jealous,” he teased.

William grinned. “Do ye think so?” He shared a soft chuckle with Farthing before growing serious again. “Lady Brodie eyes most everything in hose whilst her husband leers at all in petticoats. I think this shall be a verra long meal.”

Gamel tried to keep his thoughts focused on eating his meal, but the undercurrents at the table were too strong to ignore. As Lady Brodie ogled his father, Edina grew more and more furious, a fact indicated by how coldly polite she became. Gamel knew that Edina trusted her husband, yet to have a guest try to seduce him at their own table was far more than even the sweet Edina could bear.

When Lady Brodie, clearly frustrated by a lack of response from William, turned her sweetly seductive attentions his way, Gamel was stunned. He had accustomed himself to her close resemblance to Sine, but each hint of the woman’s unsavory character lessened that resemblance in his mind. Nevertheless, the indications that Lady Brodie had a whore’s appetite unsettled him. She sat at her husband’s side yet made it clear that she would grant most any man in the great hall her favors if they cared to approach her. Worse, she did it so subtly, using her beauty, voice, innate sensuality to excite a man, that it was dismayingly easy to feel drawn to the woman. It was far too easy to forget that this lovely, gracious woman was the same one who made Sine Catriona go white with fear.

He began to wonder what could possibly make a child fear her own mother as Sine feared Lady Brodie. For all Gamel disliked and mistrusted the woman who had borne him, he had never feared her. His mother had tried to end his life before it had truly begun, but once she had given him over to William she had ceased to be a threat to him. What trouble his mother had caused had been for Edina and William. It was difficult for Gamel to believe that a mother, any mother, could be a real threat to her own child. Yet he could not doubt Sine’s fear.

“Ye are verra fortunate, Lady Logan,” Lady Arabel murmured. “Ye have so many healthy children.”

“God has been verra good to us,” replied Edina. “That hasnae been your fate?”

“Nay. Malise and I have yet to be blessed with a child, although we have been married for nearly seven years.”

“Ye must not let that discourage you.”

“Ah, but that isnae my only sorrow, I fear. The only fruit of my body, begot in my first marriage, withered and died. ’Twas a girl child. Alas, poor Sine Catriona was too delicate, too weak, to resist a fever. It robbed her of life at the tender age of twelve.”

Delicate Sine certainly was, mused Gamel, but definitely not weak. If he had not already met Sine Catriona, however, he knew he would have accepted Lady Brodie’s tragic tale without question. Such losses occurred with heartbreaking frequency. Lady Brodie’s voice held all the appropriate sorrow. Gamel could see how easily he would have been compelled to sympathize if he did not know that Sine was very much alive.

“The line may weel be doomed,” continued Lady Arabel. “Even my late husband’s bastard sons died that year.”

As Edina murmured all the appropriate words of condolence and hope, Gamel glanced down the table to Farthing. That man gave no sign of a reaction to Lady Arabel’s words. Even so, Gamel was certain that the three people who hid in his parents’ chambers were the very ones Lady Arabel claimed were long dead. He began to wonder exactly what trouble he might have plunged himself in the middle of. The problems besetting Sine could well be very complicated and dangerous. Life or death, Farthing had said. Gamel grew more convinced with each passing moment that Farthing had spoken the absolute truth.

Farthing studied the pair who had forced Sine Catriona, Dane, and Ree to flee for their lives. He had never doubted Sine’s tale, and proof of it had been easily available over the years. The Brodies’ common response to resistance or opposition was murder or betrayal. However, he now wondered if even Sine knew how treacherous the pair was. Over the years, he had not always told her the worst things he had heard about them in the hope of sparing her some pain. He began to doubt that Sine was fully aware of how much she would need to stop them. Only death would halt the plotting of the Brodies. Farthing was certain of it.

He was also determined not to let Sine Catriona and the twins get too close to the Brodies. It had often astounded him that so many people got caught in the Brodies’ net. Now, however, he could see why. They were good at deceiving folk—clever and beautifully subtle. If he had not known the truth, he would easily have believed their appearance of amiability and candor. It was his knowledge that made him look more deeply and remain so wary. Sine Catriona could well have the wit to see the danger no matter what Lord and Lady Brodie said or did, but Farthing doubted that the twins would. The boys would be especially vulnerable to the wily woman.

The glances Lady Brodie sent his way mildly amused Farthing. Her husband revealed no hint of jealousy when Farthing responded to those looks with a welcoming smile. Lord Brodie clearly allowed his wife the freedom to satisfy her lusts as she pleased, a freedom he also allowed himself. Farthing continued to respond to Lady Arabel’s subtle invitation. Since he was the only one at the table who did so, he soon had her undivided attention. Lady Arabel was plainly more than eager for an adulterous tumble.

For a brief moment Farthing wondered if he should encourage the woman—but only briefly. There was always the chance that he could gather some valuable information as he satisfied the needs of his body. It was a combination too tempting to refuse. By the time the meal was over and Farthing found himself maneuvered into a private corner by his father, he had already decided.

Lord Magnusson frowned with a mixture of disapproval and puzzlement. “Why are ye answering that slut’s invitation?”

“Why not?” Farthing asked.

“Ye mean to say that ye would bed down with that adder?”

“Aye, but that doesnae mean it must bite me.”

“Can ye be so sure of that?”

“Worry not, Father. ’Tis more than lust which guides me.”

“I had already guessed that. Howbeit, even the most noble of reasons may not be much protection against that woman’s poison. Do ye think that ye can fool her, that ye can gain any useful information from one as sly as she?”

“She isnae the only one who can be sly. I may gain nothing of value, but I cannae let this chance elude me. Dinnae worry so. I ken verra weel see what danger I court.”

“For now I shall trust in your judgment.” Lord Magnusson frowned toward Margot, who was talking to one of Malise’s men, a fellow named Martin. “I wish I could feel some trust in young Margot’s.”

“She seems taken with that young mon.”

“He is one of Malise’s closest aides and a kinsmon—a cousin, I believe. I learned that the last time we were all at court. He spies for Malise, even chooses the mon’s next victims.”

Farthing watched the couple for a moment. “Me thinks Malise should take greater care in choosing his right hand.”

“What do ye mean?”

“The looks Martin casts Malise’s way arenae those of a dedicated aide or loving cousin. They are bitter looks, twisted with cynicism. Martin little likes his cousin. Howbeit, that is no recommendation. Where is the mon ye mean to try and match her with?”

Lord Magnusson grimaced. “I meant to try and wed her with Sir Gamel.”

“Ah, I see. All hope for that match is gone, is it?” Farthing asked, although he was already sure of the answer.

“Ye ken verra weel that it is. I have told Margot so already. Methinks she was relieved by the news. Sir Gamel is, weel, too much mon for the lass—too fierce in his feelings. She is a sweet, shy maid. A wee bit timid. She needs a quieter mate. Mayhaps that is why she moves toward that mon who always stays within the shadows,” he muttered.

William arrived in time to hear Lord Magnusson’s last statement. “He stands there for good reason,” he said. “He is Lord Brodie’s minion, his spy. He is never too far away from the mon.”

Thomas Magnusson nodded, frowning deeply. “Aye, I ken it. I should take Margot out of his reach.”

“Why, Father?” Farthing shrugged. “What harm can there be in a mild flirtation?”

“Margot isnae one practiced in the ways of subterfuge. She may not guard her tongue as closely as she ought to.”

“I wondered on that,” murmured William. “So I have set young Ligulf near the couple to guard it for her. Let the lass have her fun, Thomas. Ligulf has a verra keen ear. If she even begins to let slip the wrong word, he will catch it.” He looked at Farthing. “Our lady guest is calling to ye with her eyes again—and with most all of the rest of her.”

“Aye, I see her glances. Ah, weel, duty calls,” Farthing said with theatrical reluctance.

“Does he ken what he is stepping into?” William asked Thomas as Farthing wandered away.

“I believe he does. He is skilled at such play and, when the need arises, can be verra sly. Methinks he plans to try and gain some information. If such can be gained, then Farthing is the one to accomplish it. Better he than me.” Thomas glanced around, saw how neatly Brodie’s men were placed around the hall, and muttered, “It will be good when we are able to speak freely again.”

The time for people to seek their beds was drawing near when Gamel finally managed to gain a moment alone with his father. “Ye may tell Farthing that he has the full privacy of my bedchambers for the night. I shall bed down elsewhere.”

“With your brothers?”

“Aye, with my brothers,” mumbled Gamel, hurrying away as Lord Magnusson approached.

Seeing how William was frowning at Gamel’s retreating back, Thomas asked, “Something wrong?”

“Gamel says he will bed down with his brothers.”

“Ah, and ye doubt the truth of his claim.”

“Completely. Oh, he may weel spend part of the night with them so as not to be a liar. Howbeit, as soon as all is quiet, he will seek out Sine.” William laughed softly. “And I have just recalled exactly how he can reach her. The hideaway we have set Sine and her brothers in has another entrance. ’Tis so little used that I had forgotten it. But Gamel has remembered it. I would wager most anything that he means to make use of it.”

“Do ye plan to move the lass out of his reach or even speak with her?”

“Nay. I dinnae plan to get caught up in the midst of all of that. Gamel willnae hurt the lass.”

“I ne’er thought he would. Still, they seem, weel, contentious at the moment.”

“Aye. Verra contentious. Mayhaps some time alone together will put a stop to some of that. ’Tis a strong heat he suffers from. Aye, and jealousy, even though he kens weel that she has ne’er been with another mon. I can almost pity the lad, but I ken what treasure can lie at the end of such trials and agonies.”

“And I can pity that poor wee lassie,” added Edina as she stepped up beside her husband. “She must suffer from such idiocy. Mayhaps I should have a word with her, or him, or even the both of them.”

“Nay, loving.” William draped his arm about her shoulders and kissed her cheek. “Best to stay weel clear of it.”

“Mayhaps. For now.” She looked at Lord Magnusson. “And do ye mean to stay weel clear of your son’s doings?”

“Ah. Ye refer to his acceptance of Lady Brodie’s lusty invitation.”

“Aye. Dinnae ye think it may be a foolish move? I mean no insult but—”

Lord Magnusson held up his hand in a gesture to halt her unnecessary apology. “I understand. It could be foolish. But the young are often led more by the heat in their blood than the wit in their heads. Howbeit, something could also be gained.”

“Aye,” agreed William. “Farthing may get some information that could prove verra useful. Now, what has ye looking so puzzled?” he asked his wife.

“How can Farthing take up Lady Brodie’s invitation at all?” asked Edina.

“As readily as any other mon.”

“Nay, husband. Recall what Gamel has told us about Farthing’s wound.” She clapped a hand over her mouth and stared at Lord Magnusson in some dismay.

“Oh.” William also eyed Thomas warily. “That wound.”

“What?” Thomas frowned at both of them. “Was Farthing recently wounded?”

“Weel, I dinnae ken exactly when it happened, not for certain.” William hesitated. “I dinnae wish to be the bearer of any sad tidings.”

“Tell me—please.”

“Gamel told us,” replied Edina, “that Farthing had suffered an injury which rendered him unable to enjoy a woman.” She frowned a little when, after gaping at her for a moment, Thomas began to laugh.

“’Tis a lie, of course,” Thomas managed to say between hearty chuckles. “Farthing’s only trouble in enjoying the lasses, m’lady, has been to answer such invitations as Lady Brodie’s too often and too quickly.” His laughter deepened briefly when William started to grin.

Her hands on her slim hips, Edina scowled at the two men. “So, ’tis a lie. I can see that now. Howbeit, I fail to see what is so funny about it and why such a lie should have been told in the first place.”

“Dearling,” William answered, “what better way to explain why one is a maid when one is supposed to be a wife. I shouldnae like to be that wee lass when our Gamel discovers that she has lied.” He started to chuckle again when Edina began to giggle.

“Nor when Farthing hears of the slander,” added Lord Magnusson, and he joined the Logans in their hearty laughter.

Farthing smiled crookedly as the door to his bedchamber was softly eased open. There was no mistaking the lush female form that was briefly silhouetted in the threshold before the door was shut behind her. Nevertheless, he feigned surprise. Acting as if he feared some assassin was approaching him, Farthing grasped hold of his sword and aimed it at the intruder.

“My good knight,” murmured Lady Brodie in a husky voice. “That isnae the weapon I came here to see unsheathed.”

“Ah, then come closer, m’lady. Ye shall find that other sword equally ready to prove its worth.”

“Ye prompt me into committing a sinful indiscretion.” She stepped closer to the bed.

There was some hesitation to her step, a hint of reluctance and indecision. Farthing knew it was a trick to make him think that his virility could overpower her modesty and morals. He felt the tickle of male pride and almost laughed. The woman was truly a master at her trade.

“Your good name will be safe in my hands, m’lady.” He reached out to take her hand in his and tugged her closer. “None shall e’er hear of this transgression from me and I shall do my utmost to make ye free of all regret.”

“I ken that ye will, my bonnie knight. ’Tis why I risk my immortal soul to be with ye.”

As she slipped into bed beside him, Farthing set his sword aside but kept it within reach. He would use Lady Brodie to sate his lusts but would never ease his guard in her presence. It would please him greatly, however, if he could get her to ease her guard, if only for a moment—just long enough to gain some useful information.

As he pulled the woman into his arms, Farthing thought briefly on Gamel and Sine. He hoped Gamel was not after Sine, but decided he could not allow himself to worry about that now. Before turning his thoughts completely to carnal matters, Farthing decided that Sine could take care of herself tonight. She was, after all, neither helpless nor unwilling.

Sine abruptly woke up, fear choking her, when a hand covered her mouth. Before she could struggle, she was neatly gagged and bound in her blanket. She felt herself being lifted up and tossed over a broad shoulder. But then her fear swiftly changed to anger. Her enemies had not discovered her after all. It was Gamel who was snatching her from her warm, safe bed. When he released her, she intended to make him very sorry indeed for his dark-of-the-night chicanery.

“Are ye certain this is a wise thing to do, Gamel?” asked Blane as he took Sine’s place on her cot.

“Nay, but I shall do it all the same.” Gamel ignored his burly squire’s snort of amusement.

“’Tis not love words she is spitting behind that gag.”

Gamel grinned and patted Sine’s backside. “I ken it, and she will no doubt sear my ears with angry words and curses when I remove that gag. It matters not. ’Tis all she can do, for she must hide from her enemies. She will be trapped where I set her until the Brodies have ridden out of Duncoille. I doubt that knowledge will do verra much to sweeten her temper.” Gamel smiled a little crookedly.

“It might be wise to be sure she is unarmed before ye release her,” Blane drawled.

Laughing softly, Gamel crept from the hidden chamber and stealthily made his way to the western tower of Duncoille, keeping to the hidden passages and shadowed, little-used halls. Although it was reckless of him to steal Sine from her shelter, he did not completely forget that a threat to her life lurked within Duncoille. He watched for that threat every step of the way, and breathed a small sigh of relief when, still unseen, he finally reached the top chambers of the western tower and bolted the door behind him.

Cautiously, Gamel set Sine down and released her from the blanket. The angry gestures with which she pushed the tousled hair from her face and the fury of her glare made Gamel hesitate briefly before removing her gag. It was going to take a lot of sweet words and clever talking to soothe her. As he looked at her standing there in her thin shift, her lovely hair tangled around her slim shoulders, Gamel felt little inclined to do either.

“’Tis clear that ye have gone completely mad.” Sine spat out the words between gritted teeth.

“That is a possibility.” Gamel tugged her into his arms, ignoring the tension that stiffened her slim frame. “The fever ye set raging through my blood could easily burn all reason away.” Despite the way she hunched her shoulders he managed to nibble her ear.

Sine struggled not to let Gamel’s nearness soften her anger but that was proving a fruitless effort. She shuddered and clutched the front of his jupon as he lightly traced the shape of her ear with his tongue. What little resistance she tried to cling to was swiftly banished when he slid his hands beneath the hem of her thin chemise and gently cupped her backside. She met his kiss with a heat that matched his.

In her mind Sine could hear him speaking of marriage. Those words soothed all of her concerns about being just some object of a strong but fleeting lust. Her passion responded to that memory, pushing aside her annoyance over his behavior. Desire also pushed aside the fear that had gnawed at her since the Brodies had driven within the gates of Duncoille. Sine much preferred the blinding heat of desire that Gamel could stir within her to the chill of fear or the bite of anger, however temporary her release from those emotions might prove to be.

With those thoughts in mind she made no attempt to halt his removal of her chemise. She burrowed her fingers deep into his thick bright hair as he kissed a path to her breasts. Sine closed her eyes as she reveled in the rich sensations his heated caresses brought her, the sweet aching fullness caused by his gentle suckling. She murmured a soft protest when Gamel withdrew his skilled attentions to her breasts and brought them lower, to her abdomen. Before she could express her faint disappointment or find a way to subtly urge his warm mouth back to her breasts, he kissed the silken tangle of curls at the very base of her torso.

She cried out in a mixture of protest and stunned delight, clenching her fingers in his hair. What little clear-headedness she had left faded when he slowly stroked her with his tongue. Sine sank beneath the strength of her own passion as it raged through her. As she grew weak-kneed, Gamel grasped her by the legs to hold her steady for his intimate caresses. When Sine felt her desire reach its height, she cried out his name but he did not heed her. She nearly collapsed as her release shuddered through her. Yet still he did not halt his stirring attentions and soon her passions were renewed.

Suddenly, Gamel picked her up in his arms and set her down on the soft bed. Sine lay there trembling with hunger for him as he shed his clothes. The only clear thought in her head was that he was glorious, beautiful in his nakedness. When he knelt between her legs and crouched over her, she frowned slightly over his hesitation to do what they both ached for. She wrapped her legs about his waist and tried to press his loins against hers, but he held himself firmly away yet tantalizingly close.

“Gamel?”

“Do ye want me, Sine?”

“Would I be lying here like this for some other reason?” She scowled at him when he had the audacity to grin.

“Say it,” he demanded. “I want to hear ye say that ye want me.”

“I want ye. There. Pleased?”

“Aye.” He grinned at her again. “Wee shrew.”

Before she could protest that slur, he slowly joined their bodies. Sine quickly forgot everything but the feel of them as one, their unified drive toward pleasure’s heights. As another release swept over her, she clung to Gamel, delighting in the way he echoed her cries, joining in her ecstasy.

Afterward, as they lay entwined upon the bed recovering from the fierceness of their lovemaking, Sine recalled exactly how she had arrived in the tower room. That thought pushed away the last of her pleasure. Muttering a curse, she punched Gamel, and was about to do it again even as he moved away, rubbing his arm.

“Ah, so my lovemaking didnae soothe your sense of outrage,” he murmured, eyeing her warily.

“It but caused me to forget it for a moment.”

“A moment?”

She ignored that muttered interruption. “What right have ye got to drag me here and there as ye will?” Sitting up, she yanked one of the linen sheets around her body to hide her nakedness. “And what of the danger ye could have placed me in? I wasnae cowering in that hiding place for the joy of it.”

“I made verra sure that no one saw us.”

“Ah, I see. Weel then, ye can put me back.”

“Nay.”

“Nay? Ye arenae my lord and master. Do ye mean to hold me prisoner then?”

“Nay, I mean to make ye my wife.”

“I cannae marry now.”

Gamel reached out and grasped her by the shoulders, giving her one brief shake. “Why?”

Sine pushed his hands away and frowned at him, unsettled by his intensity. “I told your brother the why of it. He must have repeated my message, for I can see that ye are wearing my medallion.” She discovered that she was dangerously touched by that gesture, even found herself wondering what it might say about his feelings for her.

“That message said little. I ken something about a vow ye say ye must fulfill, but nothing of the cause of the vow.”

“And ye dinnae wish to wait until it is all explained on the morrow.”

“Nay.” He rose from the bed, walked to a small table, and poured himself a goblet of wine. “Do ye wish to have a drink?”

“Aye.” She began to scowl as he brought her a goblet of wine and sat down beside her on the bed. “Ye planned to bring me here. Ye had this room readied for us.”

He nodded as he drank. “I mean to hold ye close this time. Ye willnae creep away from me at dawn again.”

“Oh, aye, I am certain to try that. I could always beg a ride from the Brodies,” she muttered, then took a long drink, annoyed that he plotted to thwart any escape on her part even though she had not planned one.

“Lady Arabel Brodie is your mother.”

She sighed and eyed him with an even mixture of resignation and irritation. He would not give up, rather would badger her until she told him everything. The man was not only arrogant, but also annoyingly stubborn. She wondered why she felt so drawn to him.

“Aye—by blood. There is no other bond between us. She cut all of them when she murdered my father and the mother of the twins. Aye, and then when she turned her deadly glance our way.”

“Are ye certain of that? Wrong as those murders were, they could have been the result of jealousy. The twins are much younger than ye are, which means that your father broke his wedding vows to your mother.”

“Only after she had broken hers many times over. She refused him after I was born—refused him her bed and any further children. I was so young that it was a verra long time before I understood it all. The twins are so much younger than me because my father clung to his vows for many years despite his wife’s infidelity and ruthlessness. The love he had once felt for her made him even blinder to her faults than the other men she has entrapped and betrayed. Then he met Lady Seaton, the mother of the twins. She was a sweet loving woman, a widow. Father turned to her for some warmth, and away from his own wife’s cold cruelty. The boys carry his name even though some laws would name them bastards. ’Tis good that Scotland isnae as harsh to bastards as England is rumored to be.”

Shaking her head as she set her now empty goblet upon the floor and straightened, she continued, “Jealousy may weel have been behind my mother’s actions. Arabel holds tight to most all that she considers hers. She didnae want Papa but probably hated sharing him, hated to know that he was happy despite her. Mostly it was greed. Arabel and Malise had found that they shared a great deal—immorality, for one thing. They wanted the Brodie land, power, and money, but Papa was in their way. I can only surmise that they killed Lady Seaton and Papa’s mother to silence any accusations they might have made against them. Then they plotted to remove me and my brothers, for we also stood in their way.”

“Six murders? So many must have brought some attention their way. Questions must have been asked.”

“So ye would like to believe. Some questions may weel have been raised, but not enough. Death is so common and these murderers are so verra clever. Those nearest to us feared Malise or believed all of his smooth lies. Arabel is an even better liar than Malise. She could convince some men that the sun was black and the sky green.” She shrugged. “Lies or threats—both worked to silence the curious. Malise and Arabel work in poisons, daggers thrust out of the shadows, accidents. My grandmother was an old woman. No one is verra suspicious when the old die.”

“But she didnae die of old age?”

“Nay. ’Twas poison. Grandmere told me as much herself as she lay upon her deathbed. All those about us thought that she was beyond the power of speech and so left me alone with her. She begged me to warn Papa, but I was too late. Arabel hated Grandmere, ye see, and as the poor old woman lay dying, Arabel taunted her with the tale of her only child’s impending death. Papa was to be killed by thieves as he rushed from the king’s court at Stirling to be at his dying mother’s side. His mistress was to be slain too, and Grandmere dearly loved Lady Seaton.”

“But ye were too late to warn them?” Gamel took one of her small, tightly clenched hands in his.

“Aye.” She shuddered as the memory of her mad, fruitless ride north on the road to Stirling came back to her. “I arrived at the spot only in time to mourn the dead. ’Twas not far from here, in truth, about five miles from here towards Dunkennley. Papa, Lady Seaton, and three men-at-arms were slain. They were shot by arrows, given no chance to fight for their lives. As I cowered in the wood bordering the road, I recognized one of the men who helped to strip the bodies, thus making the tale of pikers seem true. I returned to Dorchabeinn, and lied. Quite weel I thought. I claimed I had tried to meet Papa but had become hopelessly lost. Since I was only a child of ten at that time, I felt that they would believe such a tale. Still, Malise and Arabel suspected that I now kenned too much.”

Gamel set his goblet down beside hers, edged up beside her, and put his arm about her shoulders. “Yet they hesitated to kill the twins, who were now alone and helpless.”

“Not completely defenseless. When their father was murdered, they were with their Seaton kin, but Arabel soon convinced those poor fools to let the boys come to her. After all, they were now the heirs to a great deal of Papa’s property and the Seatons were poor and aging. They were easily convinced that the twins needed to be at Dorchabeinn, where they could learn the ways of knights. Few others thought it odd either. A laird’s son should reside at his father’s keep, be he legitimate or nay.

“I thought we would be left alone, allowed to live in peace for a wee while. We were so verra young. Arabel and Malise could enjoy all that was ours for many a year. Surely, to kill us too quickly would only serve to harden what few suspicions there were.” Sine leaned against Gamel’s shoulder and slipped her arm around his waist, needing his closeness as she recalled her fear. “Then I heard the pair of them planning how to be rid of us with the least possible suspicion raised.”

When she fell silent, Gamel waited a moment before pressing, “How did they plan to do it?”

She shrugged. “They had several choices—poison, an accident. They even pondered exposing us to every fever and ill in the area until we fell sick and died. I took the twins and went to one of our neighbors, but the mon was either too afraid of Arabel and Malise or he thought me mad. In any case, he took us back. Oh, I neglected to say that Arabel was married to Malise by this time. She had wed Malise within weeks of Papa’s burial.”

“No one questioned the swiftness of that wedding?”

“Some, but they had all kenned that Papa had a mistress and that Arabel had not been faithful either, so they soon lost interest in the matter. Unhappy unions are sadly common.”

“And so then ye ran.”

“Aye, into the wood. Arabel and Malise no longer suspected that I had guessed their game, they were certain of it. I crept about my own home like some lowly thief, listening at every door. Did ye meet a mon called Martin Robertson tonight?” she asked abruptly, frowning up at Gamel.

He nodded. “He is Malise’s cousin, one of the mon’s closest minions.”

She nodded and rested her cheek against his chest. “I ken that he saw what I was doing, yet he ne’er told them about it. Nor did he try to stop me. ’Tis true that he ne’er helped me either, but I think he isnae as much Malise’s minion as Malise might believe. The mon took a great risk in saying and doing naught. In truth, he risked his verra life. There must be some good in him, for he let us escape, I am certain of it. I have wondered if he might be a weakness within the enemy camp, but I have never gained what would be needed to make use of the mon if he is.”

“I could look into that possibility. Ye havenae answered—when did ye finally run away?”

“When I discovered that Arabel and Malise had made plans to send me and the twins to a family who had been stricken with some illness, mayhaps even the plague. I could tell that their attempts to kill us were about to begin in earnest, that they had discovered a way to do it without raising an outcry. Children sicken and die every day, dinnae they?

“I could hesitate no longer. I kenned the family that we were to be taken to. They were strong and not given to sickness, yet they were dying—one after another, a new death nearly every day. I felt sure that the twins would succumb to whatever was killing that family so I grabbed the lads by the hands and slipped away into the night.”

“And met up with Farthing,” Gamel muttered, frowning down at her.

Glancing up at him briefly, Sine decided not to placate him. “Aye—and Farthing kept us weel hidden and alive.”

“By making ye become thieves and putting ye in constant danger of a different kind. Why didnae he turn to his father for help? There appears to be an affection between them.”

“Aye, there is. Yet, there was some trouble there. Lady Magnusson was a good woman, but she couldnae fully stop herself from worrying over the bond between her husband and his bastard son. Her mother’s heart caused her to fear that something might be taken away from her own children. Then there came the time to choose a wife for her son. There was some difficulty in keeping the maids from flirting with Farthing and the other son began to suffer the pangs of jealousy.” She shrugged. “Before things grew too troubled, Farthing set out on his own.”

Gamel wondered if that was when Farthing had suffered the wound which had stolen his virility, but he decided not to ask. He could understand the strife Sine spoke about. It had not taken him long to realize that Edina was the exception among stepmothers in the way she loved him and brought her own children up to accept him as their brother and not “the bastard.” Although he felt sure Lord Magnusson would have helped in any way he was able, Gamel could easily understand Farthing’s reluctance to ask the man.

“But now Farthing can help me,” Sine continued.

“ I can help ye.” Gamel gently grasped her chin, turned her face up toward his, and gave her a deep, fierce kiss. “Farthing can attend our wedding,” he murmured as he brushed light kisses over her upturned face.

“How kind of ye, except that I havenae said that I will marry ye.”

He muttered a curse, turned, and pressed her down onto her back. “There is no reason for ye to hold back.”

“There is my vow. There is the fact that people are hunting me, people who mean to kill me. ’Tis not the time to speak of marriage. And,” she added when he continued to mutter oaths against her throat, “cursing willnae change my mind.”

“I will find a way to change it.” He tugged the sheet down to her waist and cupped her breast in his hand, sliding his thumb back and forth over the tip until it hardened.

Her voice grew soft and husky. “Cannae ye just leave it be for now?”

“Is it because I am a bastard? Ye are better born than I am.” After staring at the erect tips of her breasts for a moment, he began to lathe them with his tongue, liking the feel of her fingers burrowing into his hair.

“Dinnae be such a fool,” she replied in a breathy voice as she pressed his head closer to her and he began to gently suckle.

“’Tis a reasonable question.”

“I dinnae want any more questions. I answered so verra many and must answer many more on the morrow.”

“Nay, I will tell my parents all that ye have just told me. Then ye may join us and answer what few questions remain. The least I can do is save ye one more repetition of that painful story. Would ye want me to do that?”

“Aye, that would be a help.”

“Then it shall be done. And what else do ye not want, Sine Catriona?”

“I dinnae want to feel fear. I dinnae want to worry any more. I want to forget everything, if only for a wee while.”

Turning on his side, Gamel yanked the sheet completely away. For a moment he studied her, savoring her beauty and marveling at the way looking at her could so quickly and fiercely stir his desire. He put his hand upon her taut stomach, then slid it down to the silvery curls at its base. After watching himself lightly, intimately caress her, he met her heavy-lidded gaze. She desired him—as fiercely as he did her. It was a beginning. For now he would have to be satisfied with that.

“And does this steal your fear away?”

“Aye.” She gave a shaky laugh. “It steals all thought from my mind, curse ye.”

“Cursing will not stop me,” he drawled, and smiled when she responded with a soft, husky laugh.

“I have yet to find the way or the strength to stop ye.”

“Good.”

“Good for ye—aye.”

“And for ye, since I shall keep those fears and worries from troubling ye.”

“At least in the night.”

“Aye. In the night—every night,” he murmured as he bent his head to kiss her.