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" 'Tis no use pretending she is no' a bitch. She ordered ye to punish Seonag, and then was doin' her damndest to hurt ye below with her comments about the gown being so big and whatnot."
"I do not think she meant to hurt me exactly," Annabel said without much conviction. "To her it is just fact that she is prettier than me . . . and slimmer."
Ross frowned at her disheartened tone of voice and the way she had slumped in her seat as if trying to make herself look smaller. Sitting forward in his own, he said, "First o' all, she is no' prettier than ye. Her eyes are a mud brown, not the lovely teal blue o' yers. Her hair is a nice gold color, but 'tis lank and just lays on her head like straw, while yers is the color o' midnight and flows in waves from yer head to frame yer lovely face beautifully. And her lips are smaller, thin even, not like yers, which are large and luscious enough to give a man ideas that turn his staff into a sword in search o' a sheath."
Her eyes widened incredulously at this and Ross shook his head.
"Wife, ye should ken by now that I find ye beautiful, and love yer body. I bed ye at every opportunity."
Annabel flushed at this.
Satisfied that he had made it clear that she had nothing to fear when it came to her looks, Ross sat back and added, " 'Sides, even if she had been fortunate enough to have been born more attractive than ye physically, she's no' a nice person, and that combined with her acting like a light-skirt would counter it quickly enough."
"Light-skirt?" Annabel echoed, feeling as if she should defend her sister . . . whether she wanted to or not. "That seems a bit harsh, husband. She simply fell in love with the wrong man and ran off rather than marry the one she was supposed to."
Ross's eyebrows rose. "So ye saw nothing wrong with the way she was sidling up to me, jiggling her bosoms in me face, and pawing me body right there in front of everyone. And me being yer husband, too." He shook his head with disgust at the memory.
"Ah." Annabel frowned. "So ladies do not act like that?"
Ross felt his eyebrows fly up his forehead, but then asked with concern, "Surely ye jest?"
Annabel bit her lip, but admitted, "Kate insisted she was not flirting with you, that she was just being nice because you were my husband, and that I must be jealous. So I started wondering . . ." She hesitated and then shrugged helplessly and pointed out, "I grew up in an abbey, husband. I do not know what is appropriate behavior outside the abbey walls. Perhaps her flirty attentions were how women interact with men."
"Flirty attentions?" he echoed with amazement. "Is that what ye call her sliding her hand up under me plaid trying to measure me manhood?"
"What?" she gasped with some amazement of her own.
Ross nodded grimly. He'd nearly plowed his fist into the chit's head when she'd tried that. Fortunately, Fingal had distracted her with his less than complimentary comments and then Annabel had dragged the lass off.
"I only saw her rub your arm," she muttered with displeasure and he recalled she had been behind the girl and several feet away. He had no doubt she hadn't been aware of what Kate was doing under cover of the table. That was a relief, for he'd wondered why the devil she wasn't smacking the girl silly herself.
"What are yer plans fer her?" Ross asked finally. Much as he disliked Kate, she was Annabel's sister and if she wished her to stay with them for a while, he would try to be forbearing. Although, frankly he wanted to toss the sneaky wench out of his home and never let her return. Not because she'd tried to feel him up at the table--that had disgusted him--but the thing that had really infuriated him was the way she treated Annabel. She had hurt her several times in just a matter of moments below and he wouldn't have that. No one was going to hurt Annabel . . . and if Kate called Annabel 'Belly' one more time--
"I am going to write to Mother and Father," Annabel announced, interrupting his thoughts and Ross felt his heart sink. They would be stuck with her for a bit then as the letter went south to England, and then longer still as the response traveled back. Damn, he'd be lucky not to kill the woman ere she left.
Chapter 15
Annabel woke slowly, roused by the donjon blowing his bugle. Shifting sleepily, she rolled toward Ross to see if the sound had awakened him, only to find the bed beside her was empty. He'd left early . . . again. Ross had been up and out of the keep well before the morning bugle every day for the last week. The man worked far too hard.
A knock sounded at the door, and Annabel sighed and sat up, tugging the linens and furs to her chin as she called, "Come in."
It was no great surprise when Seonag bustled in, a ewer of warm water in one hand and soap and linen in the other.
"Is the laird gone already again?" Seonag commented dryly as she carried the ewer to the small table against the outer wall where Annabel performed her morning ablutions.
"Aye," she murmured, pushing the linens and furs aside to sit up on the side of the bed as the woman poured the steaming water into the waiting basin. "He left early to ride to MacDonald. There was something he wished to discuss with Giorsal and Bean."
"Ye mean he left early to get out o' the keep ere yer sister goes down to break her fast," Seonag said dryly.
"That too," Annabel murmured unhappily. She understood his desire to avoid Kate. She was most unpleasant to be around now and had been since Annabel had confronted her with what Ross had told her about her slipping her hand up under his plaid. It had been obvious from Kate's expression that she hadn't expected him to tell. Annabel supposed her sister had thought herself so irresistible that he'd keep it to himself and simply arrange some secret assignation with her. Annabel was so very glad he hadn't.
When first confronted, Kate had tried to claim she was just testing Ross, trying to ensure that he would be a faithful husband and could not be lured into straying by a beautiful face. But when Annabel hadn't fallen for that, she'd got nasty . . . with everyone. Her one goal now appeared to be to make everyone's life as miserable as she possibly could.
Annabel couldn't blame Ross for wanting to avoid that. But she did miss cuddling up to him in the morning before they started their day, and chatting with him at the table.
"M'lady?"
Annabel glanced to Seonag in question. The maid had finished filling her basin and had moved to the chest that held all the gowns they'd mended. They'd finished the very last one the afternoon before, and both of them had been greatly relieved to be free of the chore. Now, Seonag was staring down into the open chest with confusion.
"What is it, Seonag?" Annabel asked with a frown.
"Where did ye move yer g
owns to?"
Annabel raised her eyebrows in surprise at the question. "Nowhere. They should be there."
"Well, they aren't," the woman assured her, vexation covering her face.
Annabel hurried to her side to peer into the empty chest. Bewilderment was her first reaction. "But they were all there before sup last night when I put the cream-colored gown away."
"Well they're no' there now," Seonag pointed out grimly.
"Aye. I can see that," Annabel murmured, rubbing her forehead. "I just do not see where they could have gone, or who would have moved th--" Pausing abruptly, she glanced to Seonag and the two women said together, "Kate."
Annabel cursed and headed for the door, fury giving her feet wings and making her ignore Seonag's squawked, "Wait!"
She threw the bedchamber door open with a crash and hurried to the next door along the hall, reaching it just as Seonag caught up with her and threw a linen around her shoulders. It was only then Annabel realized she'd charged out of her room naked. Normally, she would have been embarrassed. In that moment, however, she didn't care. She merely drew the linen around her, caught it under her chin with one hand, and threw Kate's bedchamber door open with the other.
"Why sister, do you not look fetching," Kate said with a mean laugh.
Annabel tore her gaze from the bed where she'd instinctively first looked, and glanced to the chair by the fire where her sister's voice had come from. Kate was ensconced there, a rainbow of cloth scraps littering the floor around the chair as she sliced away at Annabel's dark blue gown.
"Actually, I am glad you are here," Kate continued idly. "I could use some help sewing these now I have done all the hard work and cut them down to my size."
Annabel simply stared at her for a moment, and then her gaze shifted to the cloth on the ground and she choked out, "My gowns."
"What?" Kate asked, and then gave a laugh. "Nay, of course not. I got these out of that chest in your room. 'Twas obvious they were old secondhand rags, so I knew you would not mind me cutting them down for myself. I was growing ever so weary of the two you loaned me to wear."
Annabel clenched her fists and turned a fury-filled gaze on her sister. She wanted to kill her in that moment. She wanted to drag her out of that chair by her hair and wring her scrawny little neck and--
