held for a full minute before he turned away. He ripped the sword out of the ground and started back to the path.
She shouted his name. His expression was still murderous when he looked up at her again. She should have been afraid; she wasn't. She put her hand out to him and ordered him to come home to her.
She waited in the center of the room. The sound of footsteps grew closer and closer. She kept her gaze on the door, her heart pounding with anticipation. She would take him into her arms and soothe the rage in him with gentle whispers and soft caresses.
She had witnessed the transformation from laird to savage and knew without a doubt that Connor was the one man MacNare feared.
She couldn't feel sorry for the pig.
Connor was having difficulty concentrating on his duties. Thoughts of his wife and what he'd done to her the night before kept intruding.
He'd behaved like an animal. He should have stayed at the lake until he'd gotten his anger under control, or spent the entire night there, but when she'd called out to him and beckoned him to come to her, he'd been powerless to resist her lure.
She shouldn't have touched him. If only she'd stayed on the other side of the bedroom, he might have been able to ignore her. Connor acknowledged this to be a lie as soon as he thought it. He'd had every intention of taking her from the moment he started up the steps, but he hadn't meant to take her like a savage. Had he hurt her? God help him, he didn't know. She didn't resist him, though, or ask him to stop. He would have listened to her and obeyed her wishes, of that he was certain. He remembered how she'd run to him and put her arms around him and wouldn't let go. She hadn't known what he was going to do to her then, of course. Hell, she probably would have thrown herself out the window if she'd been able to guess his thoughts.
She would never forgive him. Why should she? He'd used her shamelessly, done things to her that must have terrified her, had taken her not once but twice, and in ways she wouldn't understand. He knew exactly why he'd needed her so much. He'd been living with rage for such a long time, and she was such a gentle, loving spirit. He'd needed her to breathe, to feel…
'Connor, you're choking Peter.' Crispin came up behind his laird and put his hand on his shoulder.
Connor shoved the soldier away. Peter staggered back, took several deep, gulping breaths, and straightened up again.
'You almost killed a man, Peter,' Connor said, his voice harsh. 'Had I not knocked the sword out of your hand, one of my loyal followers would be dead. I will not tolerate stupidity.'
'Laird, I…' Peter began.
Connor silenced him by raising his hand. 'Don't give me your excuses. Quinlan will decide what's to be done with you.'
He waited until the soldier had taken his leave before discussing the matter with his two commanders. Crispin and Quinlan flanked his sides.
Crispin felt the soldier was hopelessly inept and should be sent home. Quinlan was in agreement, but promised he would wait until his anger had abated to make any decision.
Crispin changed the subject. 'Have you decided how you're going to retaliate against MacNare?'
'I have. You and I will leave late this afternoon. Select eight or ten soldiers to ride with us.'
'Will you go to Kincaid first? He did make you promise not to continue the raids.'
'I should go to my brother and explain, but I'm not going to. He'll be furious, of course. However, as soon as he hears about MacNare's message, I'm certain he'll realize I should send the bastard a message of my own.'
'Don't confront MacNare or kill him until it's my duty to ride with you,' Quinlan requested.
'You make this same request each time we alternate responsibilities,' Crispin reminded. 'I'm certain Connor knows how you feel about our enemy now.'
'And you put the very same request to Connor each time I ride with him, Crispin.'
Connor stopped the rivalry by telling the soldiers they would both ride with him when the time came. 'I won't kill him until I've found the evidence I need. The promise I gave my father comes above all others. Crispin, go and choose your men and be ready to leave before the sun sets. Quinlan, walk with me back to the courtyard so that I can explain the duties I want the men to complete while I'm away.'
He finished outlining the soldier's responsibilities before they'd reached their destination and added one last request. 'See that my wife is moved to another bedroom. Do it today.'
'Did you and Lady Brenna disagree about the measures you're going to take against MacNare?'
'No, I haven't discussed the matter with her. Why would you think I would?'
'She's your wife, Connor.'
'I'm aware of that fact.'
'And it was her horse that was butchered.'
'Yes,' Connor agreed. 'And for those reasons, you believe I should explain my intentions to her?'
Quinlan laughed when he saw how puzzled Connor was. Explaining his intentions to his wife had obviously never occurred to him.
'Most wives would like their husbands to tell them what they're feeling.'
'Is that so?'
'Then your reason for moving her to another chamber was due to something else?'
'The matter doesn't concern you.'
'That is so,' he agreed. 'But as your friend, I feel I should advise you that your wife will be injured by this decision. She won't understand. Surely you've noticed mi'lady has feelings for you.'
'Of course she does, and that is precisely why I'm moving her to another room. I assure you she'll be relieved.'
Connor refused to say another word on the subject. He ordered Quinlan to get started on his duties and went inside the hall.
Netta, the servant in charge of cleaning the first floor, dropped the cloth she'd been wiping a table with as soon as she saw her laird. She jumped back, bowed, and stammered out her greeting.
The servant was a jittery woman who trembled at the mere sight of him. Connor couldn't understand why. The woman had served him for over a year now, and in all that time, he'd never once raised his voice to her.
'Netta, go upstairs and tell my wife I wish to speak to her.'
'Should I wake her if she's still sleeping, Laird?'
Connor shook his head. 'No, it's early yet. If she doesn't immediately answer you, leave her alone. Try to be quiet,' he added. 'My father's widow may still be sleeping.'
The servant stumbled twice in her haste to leave the hall. Connor paced about the empty room while he waited, his mind on the explanation he was going to give Brenna. He knew he should probably apologize for his conduct the night before. He wasn't going to, however, for the simple reason he knew he wouldn't make any sense. He had never, ever told anyone he was sorry, and he wasn't about to learn how to now.
Connor had only just started a fire blazing in the hearth when Netta returned with the news that Lady MacAlister wasn't upstairs. He ordered her to send servants outside to look for her and resumed his pacing again. Quinlan's remark about sharing information with his wife had surprised him, and he found himself wondering if Alec ever told Jamie how he felt about worrisome matters. No, of course he didn't. Men wouldn't… would they?
He shook his head with disgust. Being married complicated his life. He should have realized that before he married. It was a little late for second thoughts, however, and now that she belonged to him, he was honest enough to admit he would never give her up, and thinking about her with anyone else made him angry. Did that mean he liked being married to her? Who was he trying to fool? He liked her all right, more than he'd ever thought possible. Even now, he was tense in anticipation of the moment she would come into the hall.
His own admission was somewhat appalling to him. He was acting as eager as a young soldier trying to impress his commander. He had already softened toward his wife, and if he wasn't careful, he was going to fall in love with her. He was certain he knew exactly what would happen then. She would die on him.
Loving Brenna wasn't worth the heartache.
Crispin had come inside to announce Laird Kincaid's arrival. He was a little late, however, as Alec was already standing by his side. The two men watched Connor pace. When Quinlan joined them a moment later, he bowed to Laird Kincaid before turning his attention to Connor. He was amused his laird hadn't noticed his brother yet. It
