'Because we're going home.' His voice was back to sounding like steel again.
'England is my home.'
'Was,' he corrected, determined to set her straight. 'Scotland is your home now.'
'You wish me to give my loyalty to Scotland?'
'Wish?' he asked, grinning. 'I don't wish it, wife. I command it. You'll be loyal to Scotland and to me.'
She was back to wringing her hands. She had raised her voice to him when she asked her question, too, but Alec decided not to take exception to her behavior.
He knew she needed time to sort the problem out in her mind. Because he was such a patient man, he decided to give her an hour or two to agree.
He thought he was being very courteous, and cautioned himself against letting such consideration become a habit.
'Let me understand this,' Jamie began. 'You really think I'm going-'
'It's very simple, wife. If you're loyal to Scotland, you're loyal to me. You'll see the rightness of it once you've settled in.'
'Once I've what?' Her voice was suspiciously soft.
'Once you've settled in,' Alec repeated.
Her throat started aching with the need to shout at this arrogant man. Then she remembered Beak's suggestion not to nudge the laird's temper until she knew what kind of reaction she was going to get.
She'd better be cautious, she decided. It was common knowledge that Scots lashed out before thinking better of it. They all beat their wives as often as the inclination came over them. 'Sheep settle in, Kincaid. I'm a lady, if you haven't taken the time to notice.'
'I've noticed.'
The way he drew out that remark made her heart quicken. 'Yes,' she stammered.
'Women, you see, don't settle in. It isn't at all the same.'
'It is,' he contradicted with a lazy grin.
'No, it isn't,' she snapped. 'You'll have to take my word on this.'
'Are you challenging me, English?'
His voice was hard enough to frighten her, but he was determined to make her understand her place.
He waited for her to cringe… and apologize.
'I am challenging you,' Jamie announced, nodding vigorously when he looked incredulous.
God's truth, he didn't know what to make of her now. Her voice and stance reeked with authority. She wasn't wringing her hands together, either, they were fisted at her sides. Alec knew he really shouldn't let her get away with her insolence.
A wife should always agree with her husband. Jamie obviously hadn't heard of this sacred dictate, however. Why, she dared to stand up to him as though she were his equal.
That thought forced a deep chuckle. The woman was definitely daft, but she did have grit.
'I've been in England too long,' he admitted, 'else I'd find your arguments overbearing, wife.'
'Will you quit calling me 'wife'? I have a name. Can you not call me Jamie?'
'It's a man's name.'
She wanted to throttle him. 'It's my name.'
'We'll find another.'
'We will not.'
'Dare you argue with me again?'
She wished she were as big as he was. He wouldn't dare laugh at her then. Jamie took a deep breath. 'You say my arguments are overbearing, yet perhaps once I've settled in, as you've so obscenely put it, you'll get rid of your confusion and see the lightness in what I'm saying.'
'Since I haven't the faintest idea what it is you're saying, I doubt it,' he countered.
'Now you've insulted me.'
'I have?'
'You have.'
He shrugged his big shoulders. 'It's my right, wife.'
She began a prayer for patience. 'I see,' she whispered hoarsely. 'Then I must assume it's also my right to insult you.'
'It doesn't work that way.'
Jamie gave up. The man was as stubborn as she was. 'Have we crossed the border yet?'
Alec shook his head. 'We've only a stone's throw to go.'
'Then why were you smiling?'
'In anticipation.'
'Oh.'
Alec started to turn his back on her, but Jamie stayed the action with her next question. 'Alec? You really dislike England, don't you?'
She hadn't been able to keep the amazement out of her voice. The very idea of anyone disliking her land was simply beyond her comprehension. Everyone loved England, even dull-witted Scotsmen who liked to throw trees at one another. Why, England was the Rome of modern times. Its grandeur couldn't be denied.
'I do dislike England most of the time. There are exceptions, though.'
'Exceptions?'
He slowly nodded.
'Well? When don't you dislike England, then?'
'When I'm raiding.'
'You actually admit to such a sin?' she asked, clearly appalled.
Alec's grin widened. Her blush had intensified until she looked as if the sun had burned her. His wife was so refreshingly honest in all her reactions. A deadly trait in a man, that, giving others advance warning of what he was thinking, yet most agreeable in a woman. Especially his woman.
'Well?'
Alec let out a long sigh. It was a pity, but his wife didn't seem to have any sense of humor. She couldn't tell when he was jesting with her. 'Gain your mount. The sun is already setting,' he told her. 'You may rest when we reach safety.'
'Safety?'
'Scotland.'
Jamie thought about asking him if he thought safety and Scotland were one and the same, then decided not to bother. She guessed his answer would just irritate her.
She had already learned two very unpleasant things about her husband. One: he didn't like being questioned or contradicted. That was going to be a problem, Jamie knew, for she was determined to question or contradict him whenever she wanted to. She didn't care if he liked it or not. Two: when he was scowling at her, she didn't like him much at all. The second flaw was almost as worrisome as the first. Alec's mood changed like the wind. The most innocent remarks made him scowl.
'Jamie, I'm not getting back on that damn horse again.'
Mary pulled on her sister's arm to get her attention. Alec heard the statement, but paid no attention to it. He turned and walked back to his mount. Jamie watched him, thinking to herself that he'd just dismissed her with as much care as one would give a piece of lint.
'That man's rude by half,' she muttered.
'Jamie, aren't you listening to me?' Mary demanded. 'You're going to have to insist that we rest here for the night.'
Jamie's heart went out to her sister. Mary's face was streaked with dirt. She looked as exhausted as Jamie felt. Jamie had a good deal more stamina than her sister did, but she'd been up most of the night before, helping one of the servants with her sick child.
She didn't dare offer Mary any sympathy, knowing that a firm hand was needed now. Mary would start crying if Jamie gave her an ounce of compassion. That thought was quite chilling. Once Mary got started, she was worse than the twins.
