Arnette Lamb [Border 03] Chieftain (epub)

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.Yet how dare this brute be so rude as to bring up Clare’s mistake? Johanna had no intention of addressing her sister’s indiscretion.She sighed and lifted her chin.“Who are you, and what do you want?”With no more vigor than a carpenter choosing wood, he said, “You have a brand here—a wee blunted sword.” He pulled his shirt aside and touched the thick muscles above his right collarbone.“’Tis why you wear modest gowns.”Seeing his strong hand and remembering the passion Clare had attributed to her marriage bed, Johanna fought back a surge of longing.She would not risk losing her independence or revealing her true identity, not for the sake of passion.“Your knowledge of the mark proves nothing.”“You cannot possibly have forgotten me.” A trace of vulnerability laced his words and his massive shoulders slumped.Sensing a weakness in him, she took advantage; Clare had risked her immortal soul for her husband, and Johanna had too much to lose.“Forgotten you, an imposter?” she scoffed.“You may be memorable in some circles, but here …” She let the insult trail off.The troll laughed, a hearty sound that seemed natural.“Very well.I offer you more intimate proof.” He plopped down on a bench.Resting his arms on his knees, he stared into the mug.“You suffer dreadful cramps during your menses, which are as regular as Sunday Mass.You used to cuddle beside me in bed or lie awake until I joined you.Who else but a husband could know that?”Appalled, Johanna felt herself blush.Unlike Clare, she didn’t suffer for being a woman.That he knew the particulars of Clare’s cycle created the first doubt in Johanna’s surety.But she hadn’t built a successful life by withering before every man who challenged her.“You are not my husband.”Surprise lent elegance to his rugged good looks.He took a long pull on the ale.“Have you annulled our marriage?”She wanted to rail at him; instead she began to pace the rush-strewn floor.“How long, sir, will you continue this farce? I am not your wife.”He chuckled, but the sound held no humor.“You’re not a very good wife.”“Enough of your rough talk!” She whirled and marched over to him.“I can see you are a Macqueen.I give you that much.”“Then I’ve made progress.Hurrah for me.”“Which Macqueen are you?”He stared at her breasts.“The only one you know in the carnal sense—at least I believe that is so.”The insult deserved a like reply.“Have you come here for money?”He almost choked, and his gaze leaped to her face.“Money?”She’d made him uncomfortable.Hurrah for her.“If so, you’ve made a useless journey, for I haven’t a mark to squander on a man who cannot earn an honest wage.”He craned his neck in an exaggerated examination of the tapestries on the walls, the brass brazier, and the diamond shaped panes in the windows.“You expect me to think you are poor, amid all of this prosperity? The largesse of the Plantagenets, I assume.”To build the keep, she had sold all of her jewelry and Clare’s.When that had not been enough, she had indebted herself to the neighboring laird of Clan Douglas.During the construction she and Alasdair had lived in a crofter’s hut.She had repaid the debt, and to this day, worked as hard as anyone in her demesne.“You know nothing about me or the origins of Fairhope Tower.”“You needn’t explain, Clare.’Twould seem we have the same benefactor.” His expression grew hard, and he slammed down the tankard.“But I will not share you again.”His possessiveness gave her pause, for Clare had spoken at length about her husband’s jealous nature.Perhaps it was one of many family flaws.Clare had loved Drummond more than life.She might still be alive were it not for his warring ways.The old heartbreak returned.“You have the poisoned brain of a madman.”“An interesting observation,” he growled.“Especially from a faithless wife.”Suddenly afraid and desperate to get rid of him, she said, “I’ll summon my guards.”He waved her off.“Summon your new king, should it suit you.He bids you well, by the way.But I’m certain you often receive his greetings.”She had seen Edward II only once.He’d been a prince back then.The truth came easily.“I haven’t had the honor of seeing His Majesty since I came to this land.”It was the wrong thing to say.His eyes narrowed, accentuating the length of his lashes.“Come now.Our gracious new sovereign cannot say enough about the way in which you honor him.He was particularly verbal about his sojourn last year in Carlisle.”In January of 1307, the old king had convened Parliament in the nearby city of Carlisle, but neither he nor his son had communicated with her.What game did this man play? At a loss for a convincing denial and weary of defending herself to a stranger, she again spoke the truth.“You have been misinformed.Ask anyone here.”“I’ll not reap the truth from them.These people will be loyal to you.” He gave her a sugar-sweet smile.“But that will change.This land, the keep, and all in it belong to me.”“Mother!” Alasdair’s voice boomed through the keep.Johanna gasped.The stranger lifted his brows.She heard the slap of boots on the stairs.Her heart hammered in tune with the footfalls.A moment later, Alasdair burst into the room, a huffing Bertie Stapledon on his heels [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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