Page 195 of Wicked Highland Heroes

He half wished she had turned out to be the horse-faced woman he’d expected. A man had to choose his battles, and Lady Rhoslyn was the sort of battle he wasn’t accustomed to fighting. She had already proven to be a distraction—and not just for him, by the looks of things. He chuckled. If he were to leave tomorrow with Ralf and Ingram, he would have to worry as much about who might bed his wife as he would about Dayton showing up at Castle Glenbarr to abduct her a second time.

His mood sobered. Ralf and Ingram had others searching for Dayton in their absence. Tomorrow, they would return to Stonehaven to continue the search themselves. Talbot had reminded himself a dozen times that going with them was out of the question. Aside from ensuring Rhoslyn’s safety, he had yet to deal with consummating their marriage. A task that carried with it more than the weight of finalizing their union. He wanted her, and badly, but the taking would be far more perilous now that Dayton had wreaked his havoc.

The postern door opened and Talbot shifted his gaze to see Duncan Harper enter. Talbot expelled a slow breath. So the fox had returned to the henhouse. What kind of trouble might he stir up?

Duncan pushed his way through the crowd on a direct course for Rhoslyn as Baxter reached Talbot.

“You see Duncan Harper is here?” Baxter said.

Talbot nodded. “And he is going directly to Lady Rhoslyn.”

Baxter sat in the chair to Talbot’s right and refilled his goblet with ale from the pitcher in front of Talbot. Baxter hung an arm over the back of his chair and leaned into one corner.

“How are you enjoying your new home thus far?” he asked.

Talbot leveled his gaze on his captain. “If you cannot be civil to even me, then perhaps ‘tis best you return to England. Edward, no doubt, would be pleased to have you lead his men.”

Surprise flickered in Baxter’s eyes, then he studied Talbot over the rim of his goblet as he took a drink. He settled the goblet on his thigh. “You would not manage so well without me.”

“I am loathe to lose you, but I grow tired of your brooding.”

“I am always brooding and you never complained before.”

“But your foul moods never affected me directly—nor were they directed at me and mine.”

Baxter nodded. “Nay, they were not.” A moment of silence passed before Baxter said, “What do you think the weasel has in mind for your wife?”

* * *

When Duncan stepped up beside Rhoslyn, she hoped St. Claire couldn’t see the furrow of Duncan’s brow and grim set of his mouth. If the knight was as intelligent as she thought, he was sure to recognize the trouble that brewed in Duncan’s heart.

“I am relieved to see ye,” he said without preamble.

Rhoslyn caught the raise of Ingram’s brows and the glance that passed between him and Ralf. It wouldn’t matter whether St. Claire had detected anything amiss. Ralf and Ingram would share their misgivings concerning her dead husband’s cousin. The two Highlanders had taken to St. Claire as if they were long-lost brothers.

She introduced them and their companions to Duncan, then the four men took their leave. Duncan pulled her from the crowded area near the table to a quiet section of wall near the kitchen. Rhoslyn cast a glance at St. Claire. He’d been sitting at his place at the table, but he now stood, his back to her, talking with Sir Baxter and two guests.

“Fourteen months, Rhoslyn,” Duncan said in a low voice masked by the revelry. “Have ye lost your mind?”

She probably had, and Duncan would be the one to point it out. “I lost a husband and child in a fortnight. I am only a woman. It was more than I could bear.”

He gave her an appraising look. “Are you well? Did that English dog harm ye?”

She wasn’t sure which ‘English dog’ he referred to, and had the distinct feeling his idea of harm wasn’t the same as hers, but said, “I am well.”

“I canna’ see how with that devil as your husband.”

“I am not the first Highland woman to marry an Englishman,” she said.

“Aye, but that doesna’ make it any less devilish,” he shot back. “God’s Blood, Rhoslyn, anyone would have been a better choice than him. I would have been a better choice.”

“You?” she blurted.

“Dinna’ look as if I sprouted horns. I may not be rich, but I managed Alec’s affairs for twenty years. I managed Castle Glenbarr in your absence, and made as handsome a profit as you do. I am as good a man as Alec.”

No, he wasn’t.

“Ye never said a word,” she said.