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"Belly."
The snapped word drew Annabel from her thoughts to peer at her sister with a bit of irritation. She absolutely hated that nickname, but all she said was, "Aye?"
"You cannot allow such insolence," Kate said grimly. "I wanted to talk to you last night and instead sat about bored and unhappy. She ruined everything by not waking you. Punish the old crone."
Annabel's eyes widened at the demand, and then narrowed. While Seonag's not waking her had not upset her, her sister's words did. Somehow the girl seemed to just get under her skin. She had never met anyone so . . . so . . . spoiled.
"I am not punishing her," she finally said, her voice quiet but firm. "And her name is Seonag. Please call her that in future."
Kate's face screwed up with rage at the mild setdown, so it was a relief for Annabel to turn away from her and glance to the table when Ross said, "Wife?"
At least it was until she noted his expression. He did not look happy as he asked, "Who is this woman?"
"Oh!" Kate gasped, and her anger with Annabel apparently forgotten, she pushed past her to rush to Ross. Once she'd reached where he sat on the bench, she gave a sort of exaggerated shiver and gushed, "You must be Ross. It is such a pleasure to meet you at last."
Annabel stilled, her eyes narrowing on her sister, but Ross merely arched an eyebrow as he looked Kate over and then asked, "Who are ye? Another new embroiderer?"
Kate's head went back as if he had slapped her, but she recovered quickly and released a tinkling laugh as she said, "Oh, goodness no. Although, in this gown you could be forgiven for confusing me with a new servant." She peered down and held it out to the sides, emphasizing how large it was and somehow making the neckline drop indecently low at the same time. " 'Tis borrowed of course. From Annabel," she added in case he hadn't realized. "But then she is far larger than me. I fancy you could fit two of me in here."
She laughed away at that and glanced over her shoulder as if expecting Annabel to join in laughing at the joke. She didn't.
"No' to worry, lass," Uncle Eoghann said, mildly drawing Kate's attention back to the table. "Ross has the best cook in the highlands working fer him here. He'll soon feed ye up and ha'e ye looking less sickly."
Kate stiffened briefly, but otherwise managed to ignore the comment. Annabel, however, felt better for it and cast the man a grateful smile.
"I still do no' ken who ye are," Ross pointed out quietly.
"What?" Kate asked with surprise. "I should think you could guess by now. Or did Annabel not tell you of my arrival?" Kate asked, sounding amazed, and then she shook her head and settled on the bench next to him, saying, "She probably just worried you would be disappointed at having her foisted on you in my place." Leaning toward him, she ended in a throaty voice, "I am your Kathryn."
"My Kathryn?" Ross asked, eyebrows arched.
Reaching out to caress his arm, she said huskily, "Well, I was always meant to be yours."
And apparently had decided she was willing to be his now that her grand romance with the stable master's son had failed so miserably, Annabel thought unhappily, her hands clenching at her sides as she watched the couple worriedly.
"She's yer lady wife's sister, Kate," Fingal announced abruptly, and then, just to be helpful, Annabel was sure, added, "Ye ken . . . the lass who kindly ran off to toss up her skirts with the stable master's son so ye were able to marry our sweet Annabel in her place."
While Kate had managed to ignore Eoghann's earlier comment, this one she couldn't. Turning her head sharply, she stared daggers at Fingal. Honestly, Annabel was surprised not to see blades sticking out of his eyes. Fingal, however, grinned back at her like the cat who ate the cream, and said, "We're forever grateful fer that, lass. Our Annabel is a true lady."
"You nasty old bas--" Kate began, and that was when Annabel stepped forward and caught her sister's arm to urge her off the bench. Kate bit off the rest of what she'd been about to say and turned furiously on Annabel instead. "What are you doing? I am not done here, Belly."
"Aye, you are," Annabel assured her solemnly and dragged her toward the stairs.
She got her halfway there before Kate tugged her arm furiously free and stamped her foot. "I will not be manhandled. I am going to break my fast as I planned."
She whirled away to start back toward the tables. Annabel did not give chase or grab her back, she simply barked, "Kathryn Jane Withram!"
Kate paused and turned reluctantly back, her expression petulant. "What?"
"This is my home," Annabel said firmly. "And I am lady here. I suggest you take yourself up to your room now, else I shall order the men to drag you there."
Gilly and Marach rose as one at those words, apparently more than happy to do it.
Kate's eyes narrowed and her mouth tightened, but then she shrugged and moved back toward her. "Very well."
Annabel waited until she had passed, offered her husband an apologetic smile and then followed her sister upstairs. Both of them were silent as they mounted the stairs, but the moment they were in the bedchamber and the door was closed, Kate rounded on her.
"How could you let that man speak to me like that? You reprimanded me for unintentionally insulting a servant, and then acted as if I was the one in the wrong when that man as good as called me a whore. Me, a lady, and your sister." Turning then, she threw herself on the bed and burst into sobs.
Annabel stood by the door, shifting her feet uncertainly and rather confused. She'd followed Kate up here intending to reprimand her again, and more firmly for her behavior below, but instead now felt like the one in the wrong. How had that happened? And was she in the wrong? Fingal hadn't called her a whore . . . exactly. Truthfully, he'd just bluntly stated what Kate had done, though she supposed the way he'd said it could have been more . . . er . . . or well less . . . er . . .
"Oh bullocks," Annabel muttered and then walked to the bed and settled on the side of it to stare at her sobbing sister uncertainly. Finally, she said, "I apologize if Fingal's words offended you. He could have been more diplomatic in his phrasing."
"They did offend me," Kate snapped, crying harder.
"Aye, well, perhaps I should have said something," Annabel muttered. But recalling how Kate had leaned up against Ross, petting his arm, talking all husky, and being all skinny and sexy, she added, "I suppose I was just set aback by the way you were flirting with my husband."
"Flirting?" Kate gasped, rising up and whirling to eye her with outrage. "I was not flirting with him. I would never do that. I am the one who did not want him in the first place.
That is why he is your husband. Besides, my heart is broken right now. Grant is all I can think about."
"But you were leaning into him, and--"
"I was being polite to my sister's husband," she said staunchly. "If you thought it was anything else, then perhaps it is because you feel ugly and jealous of me. You always did, Belly."
Annabel blinked in amazement at that. She'd been seven when she was sent to the abbey, too young to know enough to be jealous of anything. And as she recalled, she'd adored her sister. She'd followed her around like a mooning calf, looking up to her and--hell, she'd wept every night in bed for a year after leaving Waverly because Kate wasn't there to laugh and talk with.
Nay, she hadn't been jealous of her then. She might be now though, Annabel admitted fairly. All right, aye, she was. She wished she were as pretty as her sister, wished she'd been trained to be a proper wife to Ross as Kate had no doubt been. Annabel never would have tossed him aside for the stable master's son . . . who she was sure was a lovely man, but, really, he could not be as wonderful as Ross, she thought.
Sitting there, she wondered if perhaps that jealousy had not caused her to read more into Kate's behavior than had really been there. Or perhaps the only way Kate knew how to interact with men was in a flirty manner so didn't see it as flirty. The way she'd acted with Ross may even be how all women acted around men, at least those women who had not been raised in an abbey where the only man in sight was a quaking old priest.
"All right," Annabel said finally. "Perhaps I misread your intentions with Ross."
"Aye, you did," Kate assured her.
"Well, I shall try not to allow my feelings about my lack as a woman and wife affect my judgment in future," she said quietly.
"Good." Kate gave a sharp nod as if to say that was as it should be.
"But in return," Annabel continued, bringing a wary expression to Kate's face, "I would appreciate it if you did not call me 'Belly.' "
"But that's your name," she protested.
"Nay, my name is Annabel."
"But I always called you 'Annabelly' or 'Belly.' "
"And I always hated it," Annabel informed her quietly.
