But her tongue was sharper than the best-honed sword.
A fault she kept well hidden, though Rogan had no trouble seeing through her false praise and simpering airs. Her eyes, when she thought no one saw her, held a chill colder than the blackest winter night. And – Rogan shuddered – he’d rather guzzle brine than take her to wife, even if her sire was his father’s staunchest ally.
At least the thought of her banished the painfulth robbing at his loins.
Grateful, Rogan hastened from his bedchamber. But before he reached the stair tower, a dark shape stepped from the shadows, blocking his way.
“Ho, Rogan!” His cousin Gavin’s smile was crooked. “Such a scowl! Are you on your way below stairs to announce that the sun willna be rising on the morrow? Or—” he waggled his eyebrows “—have you been dreaming ofheragain?”
“Her?” Rogan pretended innocence.
Gavin laughed. “Unless you cease blethering about the vixen each time you sink into your cups, you cannae think I know naught of her!”
“I ne’er ‘sink into my cups’.” Rogan tried to push past his cousin, but the lout shot out a hand, seizing his elbow in a vicelike grip.
“Once was enough.” Gavin leaned close and winked, clearly amused. “Truth tell—” he flashed a glance over his shoulder and then lowered his voice “—if such a lush piece invaded my dreams, I’d stay abed all my days.”
“You’ll hold your tongue is what you’ll do.” Rogan shook free and glared at him. “Lest you wish me to silence it for you?”
He reached for the dirk that should have been tucked beneath his belt, but remembered too late that he’d tossed on his plaid and nothing else.
Gavin caught the gesture all the same.
Unfortunately, it only drew another laugh.
“I but speak the truth.” The lout had the gall to clamp a hand on Rogan’s shoulder.
“Why are you skulking about in the shadows?” Rogan changed the subject.
“I was . . . er, ah . . . visiting Maili.” Gavin released him and brushed at his plaid. “You might be of a better temper, too, if you’d partake of her services now and then.”
“I haven’t tumbled a laundress since I grew my first beard.” Rogan stepped away from the cold wind blowing through an arrow slit in the stair tower’s thick wall . The chill reminded him of the coldness of his empty bed.
He did his best to assume an air of importance. “I have no time for such frivol. Some of us have weightier matters to attend, see you.”
“In the middle o’ the night?” Gavin looked close to laughter again.
“Snorri’s gone missing,” Rogan improvised, seizing the first thought that came to his mind.
His dogwasout and about somewhere.
And considering the beast’s age and bad hip, his disappearance from Rogan’s bedchamber was troubling. Snorrirarely left Rogan’s side. He even shunned his comfortable pallet by the hearth fire to sneak into Rogan’s bed, often sleeping sprawled across Rogan’s ankles.
It wasn’t like the dog to be missing at this late hour.
Though – Rogan was sure – the well-loved scamp had no doubt crept down to the kitchens where he was known to beg meaty bones and other tidbits from Cook and the kitchen laddies.
Even so, if Snorrihadn’t returned by morning, he’d launch a search.
“I was just heading out to look for Snorrinow.” Rogan started forwards again.
He wasn’t about to tell Gavin he was on his way to ask his father’s men about a man named Lore who, like as not, was as non-existent as his dream vixen.
Even so, he had to know.
“I saw Snorritrotting towards the kitchens as I was leaving Maili’s pall et.” Gavin’s words stopped him.
“Ah, well – ” Rogan forced himself not to continue down the stairs “ – I’ll be returning to my bed then.”
