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“Do ye think? I thought it sounded more like
a cat howling,” Raik’s deep voice said behind her.

Oh, cruddy worms! She dropped back down onto
the seat. How had she missed seeing him close-by? She ignored him
and busied herself trying to herd the fruit close so she could add
it to her porridge.

“Nay. Ye didna hear her up close. I thought
it the sweetest music, though my ears did ring now and again.”
Ranald stopped behind her to lean down and nuzzle her neck. On his
way back up, his teeth nipped her ear lobe.

Drats. The men must have been in the solar.
From the sounds of footsteps and chuckles, it was not just the two
of them. She dared peek up to see no less than ten men leaving the
great hall. Ranald paused at the doorway and winked, then chuckled
as he walked away.

Mayhap she could crawl beneath the table. But
to what end, since they were now gone?

“I am sorry, lovey. I didn’t know they were
near, else I would have held my tongue.”

Catalin shrugged, her mind busy searching to
remember making any sounds when Ranald’s magical fingers had teased
her. Hm. Oh, Blessed Saints! She remembered hearing her loud
groans. It did not take too much of a stretch to say they were
wails. Not being able to silence them, she had bit down on his
shoulder. Next time, she would stuff her mouth with the sheet.

“Ye said Ranald made ye angry last eve?
Why?”

Catalin’s stomach reminded her she had yet to
eat. In between spoons of porridge, she whispered to Elyne.

“I told him I was fearful of staying here at
Raptor, in case the babe came before Hunter’s surrender. I asked
him to let me go to Letia’s during that time.”

“From the look on yer face, he said nay right
away?”

She shook her head. “He said he talked to
Abbot Aymer about me staying at Kelso, but fearing no women could
attend me there, he decided against it. He mentioned a convent, but
he discarded that idea because Baron Rupert’s lands are too
close.”

“Then ye are to stay here at Raptor?” Elyne
brows rose, not liking the idea.

“He wasn’t finished. He said I would go with
him. He has had a large tent made and a bed frame. When I
protested, he said you, Lady Muriele, Hannah and Ada would also be
going.”

“What?”

“You heard aright. We are all to accompany
him there.”

Catalin sighed and searched around in her
porridge until a small red spot peeped up amongst the creamy gruel.
She scooped the cherry up and plopped it in her mouth.

“Why is he taking Lady Muriele along?” Elyne
frowned.

“Huh. What do
you
think? I fear he
has made her his leman.”

She fished out another cherry, but it rolled
off her spoon and bounced on the table. Grabbing for it, she
smashed it in trying.

“Yuck.” She took a small piece of linen from
her kirtle pocket and wiped her hand. “I will tell Sir Giric that
we must plan to leave from the siege camp instead.”

“That might work just as well. I will go with
ye.” Elyne tilted her head, thinking. “The men will be too busy to
even think of us during the day. We could leave soon after dawn one
morn and be leagues away in a day’s ride.”

Catalin frowned and looked down at her
expanding middle.

“It will be much harder to make good time. If
we were going to Seton from here, we could take our time. Once at
Letia’s and I had de Burgh’s escort, I would have no need to travel
fast. Ranald would not know what was amiss.”

“Oh! I was so distracted teasing ye, I near
forgot about how I came to hear yer, uh, um, ye know.” Elyne
grinned, looking most satisfied.

“What happened? Do not tell me you listened
at the door.”

“Nay. I was sleep walking, until yer wailing
woke me.”

“Elyne!”

Elyne snickered. “I was dreaming a handsome
knight was taking us to King Stephen, but someone chased us. The
knight took us to this secluded place. Stone walls surrounded a
building filled with women. Thirty knights led by a man with a
dreadfully scarred face, threatened to tear down the walls.”

“You dreamt Ranald discovered our plan?”
Catalin swallowed, fearing Elyne’s dream would come true.

Elyne waved her hand in front of Catalin’s
face, motioning her to wait. “Nay. Hovering overhead was a
black
eagle as big as a man. I think
it
may have
been Ranald.”

“Did the dream end there?”

“Nay. The eagle swooped from the sky. The
evil man tried to kill it, but the bird’s talons tore into the man.
The man’s broadsword sliced into one of the eagle’s legs.” She
shuddered, and continued. “The eagle’s beak plucked the man’s eyes
out afore it killed him.”

Elyne stopped when Catalin put her hand to
her mouth and swallowed back stomach acids surging up her throat.
She took several deep breaths before nodding for Elyne to
finish.

“Dinna worry. The eagle hopped on one foot
over to me. It turned into Ranald.” She shrugged her shoulders and
looked sheepish. “Raik’s hands touched my shoulder and I awoke. He
was grinning at me because I was clutching the latch, ready to
burst through the doorway.”

“Oh, saints. We should pay heed to your
dream. For truth, Sir Giric is a comely man and Ranald did mention
the convent. But I wonder who the terrible man could be?”

“Aye. I dinna think we have anything to fear
as long as Sir Giric takes us to Seton and not the convent.” Elyne
frowned at the people milling about. “Come, we must plan what
clothing to take, and I must find a weapon for ye.”

“Weapon? How could I carry a bow or
sword?”

“Nay. I will have my bow and quiver of
arrows. And a short sword, too, come to think on it. What we need
for ye is a good sized dagger, and mayhap a small one hidden inside
yer kirtle.”

Catalin’s mouth was still agape when they
left the hall.

o0o

Ranald fought to keep a grin off his face as
he left the keep. It wasn’t chivalrous of him to tease Catalin, but
she amazed him. He had expected lusty behavior from the women he
bedded in the past, for he was a young man with sexual appetites
and stamina enough to pleasure even the most demanding lass.

Many times, he’d heard the married warriors
at the castle grumbling about their wives not enjoying sex, much
less delighting in it. One man had grumbled that ‘twas like bedding
a cold, giant fish that long since had stopped flapping its tail up
to meet him.

He barely had to touch Catalin for her body
to get as hot and wet as any young lass he plowed in his youth.
Truthfully, she was the most responsive woman he had ever
bedded.

“My lord Ranald?”

A voice at his side and a soft hand on his
arm turned his thoughts back from his bed. Raik pulled a long face
at him, and with eyes twinkling and mouth fighting a smile, he
dropped back to walk with Domnall and Cormac. Ranald stepped to the
side to let the men pass, before he turned to frown down at
Muriele.

“Did ye wish to have words with me?”

He had no idea what the lass wanted, thought
she looked hesitant about speaking. For certain, she seemed to be
rethinking her reason for stopping him. While he waited, his gaze
traveled over her from head to toes. It was a most pleasant wait.
She was more comely than most women at the keep. Other than his
Catalin and Elyne, of course. Still, he grew impatient.

“Speak up, lass. I have much that needs to be
done.”

“Please, sir, walk with me amongst the apple
trees. I would speak where none would overhear.”

Muriele lifted her hand in a gesture that
invited his arm to rise and let it rest upon his sleeve. Cold swept
from her fingers through the cloth. He kept silent until they were
well into the grove. She looked around, appearing hesitant. Taking
a deep breath, she turned to face him.

“My lord Ranald, I know not what tale others
have told ye, but lest they be untrue, I thought it best to speak
with ye.”

“I have heard little. Only that my brother
was thought to, uh, have a special interest in your
protection.”

Muriele flushed and lowered her eyes. He
could not very well come right out and ask if she had been
Moridac’s leman. She must have read his mind, though.

“Ye have no doubt heard that I am without
family and fled the Highlands to come here. I needed to escape a
man who would have done me great bodily harm. My horse was too old
and tired to carry me, so I resorted to walking, hoping to give her
a chance to recover. Sir Moridac came across me whilst she was
dying, her head on my lap. He was kind enough to wait until she
breathed her last before he helped me to rise.”

“It was considerate of my brother.” Ranald
could not keep his brow from arching, wondering what Moridac was
after.

“He promised his men would bury my faithful
old horse, and he offered me protection at Raptor Castle.”

“Most fortunate, truly, that ye met a patrol
from Raptor.”

What had this to do with him?

“He took me up in back of him and brought me
to the castle.” She blushed and lowered her head.

“I am pleased my brother acted with honor.”
This was the type of tale he had expected of his twin, not all the
stories of his excesses that filtered through even to the
abbey.

“As was I. He brought me to Raptor and told
everyone I was his father’s ward. Chief Broccin was not quite
pleased with this. But Moridac stood between me and all others who
would prey on a helpless woman. Everything was well until that
fateful day when Moridac again went hunting.”

“Ah. A woman alone is sure to draw the
Chief’s
regard
.” Ranald’s lips thinned.

His sire thought nothing of picking up a lass
and carting her off to his bed when the mood struck. More oft than
not, he paid off her angry father or brother the next morn.

“I am weary of this cat and mouse game with
the chief. Lady Joneta has been most kind. She shares her
bedchamber with me and has been diligent in her protection.”

Muriele startled him when she stepped close
and placed her long slender fingers on his shoulders and boldly
raised her gaze to search his.

“Have ye not noted I have tried to bring
myself to yer attention? It has been many long months since I have
had the, um, attentions of a man. Since the day ye returned to
Raptor, I have craved ye as my lover.”

Ranald stared at Lady Muriele’s face, trying
to read her intent. These past months, he had thought she gathered
her nerve to ask for his protection. Not as a lover. As a warrior
to stand between her and any male who sought favors she didn’t want
to give. Now, she boldly sought him as a man between her thighs. He
grasped her wrists to remove her hands from his shoulders. She
stopped him with her pleading.

“I will be most discrete. I vow I will not
come between ye and Lady Catalin. I do not seek love from ye, nor
do I wish gifts for my favors. Ye will have no need of yer mask,
for yer scars add strength to a face more comely than most. I will
wield no ties to bind ye. Should yer seed take, mayhap ye could
find a warrior to be a husband to me.”

Releasing his shirt, she ran her hands down
his arms. She studied his face, though he didn’t know what she saw
there, if anything. When he did not venture to embrace her, he
noted the moment she changed from hesitation to determination.

She rose on her toes, and as she molded her
body to his, the soft mounds of her breasts brushed over his
pounding heart. Could she feel it? Arms soft as warm velvet circled
his neck. Long fingers combed through his hair, touched and
caressed him, while she kissed him with skilled passion. His skin
threatened to burst into fire beneath her lightest touch. His loins
hardened and stirred when her tongue sought to pry between his
teeth.

Near panting with rising hunger, he
determinedly unwound her arms from his neck and stepped back,
taking deep breaths to calm himself.

“Nay, Lady. I have no desire for a
leman.”

“No desire? Ye deny what my body felt? What
my eyes can see?” Her gaze trailed down his length and stopped
where his flesh betrayed his words.

“Nay. I canna deny my response to ye, but ye
insult me by thinking I can’t control temptation. Do ye forget I
was without the pleasures of a woman’s flesh until I left Kelso?”
Ranald shook his head.

Muriele’s reaction puzzled him. Where he
expected teary eyes and protests, she beamed at him like he had
given her a handful of gold coins. He studied her through narrowed
eyes. Was she daft?

“What game do ye play, Lady?” He glowered
down at her.

“No game. I prayed ye would give me the right
answer. And ye did.” She nodded and looked him square in the
eye.

“And what would ye have done had I thrown ye
to the ground and burrowed myself between yer legs?”

“This.”

One hand darted into the folds of her kirtle.
Her eyes widened with shock when he gripped her wrist and they
tumbled to the ground together. He straddled her, then gathered
both her hands above her head and anchored them there with one of
his.

Swiftly, he felt over her form until
satisfied she had no other blades. His grip on the hand holding the
dagger tightened. With a soft cry, she dropped the weapon.

“Ye intended to stab me?” Astonishment sent
his brows so high they near dislodged his mask. “Lady, had ye
hidden blades aplenty over yer length, I would have taken them all
from ye,” he growled.

Muriele nodded gravely at him. “And had that
happened, I would have summoned aid.”

She puckered her lips like a woman inviting a
kiss. Instead, a piercingly loud whistle rent the air.

Ranald twirled off her and crouched, the
dagger at the ready, as someone charged from amongst the drooping
apple tree branches. He near dropped the blade as Aunt Joneta, both
hands waving a hefty stick over her head, charged toward him.