wonder, he touched them all over, from their silky curls to their tiny toes. In a time when a healthy baby was a blessing he found himself with two.

In an age where men had little to do with babies, Storm noticed there was yet another similarity between her family and Tavis's. The MacLagans felt no shame in holding a baby and taking delight in him. Her children were soon making the rounds amongst their Scottish kin. As she had with her father, Storm watched large calloused hands that could wield a sword with deadly precision handle the babies with gentle, loving firmness. The MacLagans, as Eldon did, saw that the future lay in these babies, that there was no loss of manliness in the enjoyment of children who were God's promise of the continuity of man.

With his arms now empty of child, Tavis rapidly regained the need to wrap them around Storm. Sitting at his side and sipping a tankard of ale, she gave him no encouragement to do so. It was hard to believe that she had ever lain awake aching for him.

"I have held my bairns. Now I wish to speak with ye."

"Are ye sure there's time? The day hastens on. Ye must not get behind in your wenching."

"God's teeth, Storm, I havenae been wenching," he ground out, his hands clenching into fists.

"Really?" she drawled, glaring at him. "I suppose ye were just counting Katerine's teeth with your tongue to save getting your fingers wet." She was mostly unaware of the badly smothered laughter her remark brought.

"Now it starts," murmured Colin as he sat down next to Eldon, and there was laughter in his voice.

"I enjoy Storm in full rage," mused Eldon. "She does have a way with words."

"Takes after her father," Colin said quietly, and grinned when Eldon sent him a mock scowl.

"Nay," Tavis snapped, "but I willnae explain that afore all these people. I want some privacy."

Storm finished her ale, slammed her tankard down upon the table and leapt to her feet. "Ye can have all the privacy ye wish, but I will not join ye. Well do I know your tricks, Tavis MacLagan."

"So ye should," he sneered as he rose to stand before her, "ye askit for them oft enough."

"E'en the mundane is craved when one is bored," she purred, forcing herself not to blush.

Elaine gasped softly. "Roden, is this not getting very personal? Should you not send them out of here?"

"Nay, personal is the best sort of argument," Eldon replied gleefully, grinning when Colin nodded in vigorous agreement. "Worry not, Elaine."

Realizing that his temper was rising,

Tavis fought to rein it in. "I do not want to argue with you."

That was not good news to Storm. "And I do not wish to talk to ye. Not at all."

"Weel ye will, bitch, and ye will heed what I say." Tavis gave up trying to keep a hold on his temper.

"Oh, aye, and well do you know bitches since ye have no doubt come from the arms of the greatest one in all of Scotland. Well, if ye have any pretty lies ye wish to spout, I am sure Kate will listen well."

" 'Od's wounds, woman, I havenae seen Kate since ye and your brother threatened to skewer her."

"She called Storm a whore," murmured Colin when Roden sent his eldest son a reproachful look.

"Oh, that makes a difference." Roden smiled at Andrew. "Has he been bedding this Katerine?"

"Nay," Colin replied as Storm dramatically expressed her regrets concerning Katerine MacBroth's continued good health. "I think Storm caught him making his first effort. She was only about for a fortnight. The lad's had no other woman since he set eyes on Storm that day. I would swear to it."

"If ye had listened instead o' hurling dirks," Tavis began as he followed her retreat to a window.

"I did not want to listen to ye. I do not want to listen to ye. I listened one too many times. 'Tis all empty words and useless promises." She stared out the window, saying softly, "When I craved your voice it was silent. The second time I was prepared to listen, hoping for even empty words, ye had your mouth otherwise occupied."

Tavis paled slightly. That was a piece of news that Roden had not put into his letter, believing it too cruel to let Tavis know that he had missed yet another chance. Nor had he told Tavis that it was more his choice of wench than his wenching, but Tavis had begun to see that for himself. To know that one kiss that he had had to work at to enjoy had brought him yet another four months of hell, had kept him from Storm's side when she had borne their children and had caused him to miss their birth, tore at his insides. He wondered if any man had paid so dearly for such a minor thing. The knowledge did very little for his tenuous grasp on control.

Whatever he might have answered was lost as their son set up a wail. It mattered little to the baby what important subjects were being discussed. He was hungry. His cry started his sister's face to crumbling as she recalled how long it had been since she had eaten.

Sighing, Storm went to collect Taran from his uncle, Sholto, who looked startled at the boy's volume. Elaine collected Aingeal and followed Storm out of the hall, wondering what would happen next. Storm was simply glad for the diversion and the chance to elude Tavis.

"Are you going to just stand there like a pile of cow droppings?"

Glaring at his father-in-law, Tavis snapped, "She has to feed the bairns."

"I am sure she will reveal naught that you are unfamiliar with," Roden said dryly. "Unless you are a complete fool, as I begin to suspect, you will realize that it will occur to her that her chambers, securely locked, are a good place to be if she does not want to hear you any longer."

For a moment Tavis

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