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“Today!” she cried. “Oh, Jemma, did ye hear? We’re finally going to Questing!”

Her dark-haired cousin was nodding happily, although the other cousin did not look as pleased. Jordan saw Caladora’s expression and her heart sank. William sensed the sadness and hesitation.

“We do not have to leave tonight, or even tomorrow,” he said, smiling at his wife and at Caladora. “Take your time. Questing will wait.”

Kieran had dismounted, approaching his wife. “Give me my son,” he said.

Jemma turned away from him, protecting Alec. “Not with all of that armor on. Take it off and then ye can hold him.”

Kieran put his hands on his hips. “Lord, Jemma, the armor won’t bite him.”

“Daddy won’t bite, either,” Mary Alys defended Kieran. He smiled down at her and patted her dark head.

But Jemma took a step back, defiance written all over her face. “Take it off.”

“Kieran, your wife is desperately in need of discipline,” Paris said, as he dismounted his own animal and took off his helmet. “How you tolerate such bad manners, I will never know.”

Jemma snarled her lip at Paris. “And why ye haven’t married my cousin yet, I will never know,” she fired back. “This beautiful woman has dozens of admirers that would marry her tomorrow, but she waits for ye.”

Jordan rolled her eyes at William, who was growing amused with Paris’ discomfort. Paris remained in control, although he would have liked nothing better than to throttle the little Scot. But she angered him and he could not resist the chance to jab at her, although it would be risking Kieran’s wrath.

“As I recall, you had to get married,” he said deliberately. “I do not.”

William groaned to himself. As touchy as Paris was about marriage, he should have known this would have been his reaction.

They all waited for Jemma to explode, but much to their collective surprise, Jemma actually smiled.

“That may change,” she said devilishly.

Caladora flushed bright red at the divulging of such secret information. Paris, not particularly surprised that last night had become common knowledge, shrugged and looked his blushing paramour right in the eye.

“Mayhap,” he said evenly.

William shook his head. “I cannot believe this conversation.” He went to retrieve his son from his wife’s mortified cousin. “I am taking Patrick and retreating to my chambers. Jordan?”

“I am coming,” she said, lifting her skirts and gave Paris a timid smile before following her husband.

Kieran watched William go. “He gets to hold his son in full armor,” he pointed, then turned to his wife. “Give him to me.”

Jemma frowned but complied after a brief hesitation. Happy, Kieran crooned softly to the infant as Paris approached Jemma and Caladora. He put his hands on his hips, gazing down at Caladora and all but ignoring Jemma.

“Did you tell her to say that?” he demanded softly.

Caladora was horrified. “Nay,” she replied. “I would never do that.”

Paris glanced reprovingly at Jemma before turning back to Caladora. “Well, it is of no matter, of course,” he said. “I will marry you when I am ready to, in spite of your cousin’s opinions.”

Caladora nodded submissively. “I know that, Paris. I have never said otherwise.”

“Callie, dunna be such a coward,” Jemma admonished her. “Dunna let him talk to ye like that.”

Paris had had just about enough of Lady Hage. He pursed his lips threateningly and her husband intervened. “Come on, sweetheart, leave these two alone,” he cradled his son in one arm and pulled his wife and daughter along with the other.

Poor Caladora was ready to run for cover when they were finally alone. She stared, embarrassed and guilty, at the ground. Paris looked her over, knowing she was slowly dying inside from shame and it made him smile. He had never met a woman with more humility than she. He put his finger underneath her chin, raising her eyes to meet his.

“It seems that I am to be branded a cad if I do not marry you soon,” he said softly.

Caladora’s eyes widened. “I never….”