Then there were Janet and Katerine. They did all they could to make life miserable for her. They were proving to be experts in the field. It had reached the point where Storm feared an immediate outbreak of hostilities. More and more the subtle remarks flew, anger simmered and reaction was forced down to grow greater and fiercer.
Kate's reason for being vitriolic was plain to see. It had taken Storm a while to understand Janet's. When she did she wished fervently that she had not or that she would be proven wrong. Instead, as Colin grew weaker, Janet's reason for resenting her became all too clear. Janet plainly wanted Tavis, desired her own husband's son.
A silent groan rose up in Storm as the ever weakening Colin was led out of the hall, no longer able to linger with the others after the meal. The ritual of the women preparing to retreat to a far corner of the hall and leave the men alone to talk but the men inducing them to stay was gone through. Storm preferred staying at the table, for she really had little in common with the other two women, and the men afforded some protection from the vicious remarks and rising animosity. She was not afraid of the women, but did fear a humiliating scene if things were not kept curbed in some way.
Storm continued to feel that someone was slowly poisoning Colin but, although she had a very strong suspicion as to who it might be, she could not yet accuse someone. The watching she and Phelan indulged in had left them with only one firm conviction: Malcolm was the only one they could wholeheartedly exonerate. Their reasons for doing so were rather vague, but they did not care. If nothing else, they had to trust someone soon or Colin would die. Storm wondered how she could get to Colin's room to talk privately with the devoted Malcolm. There was little time left. It amazed Storm that Colin still lived, for he looked so very close to death.
"So your people still refuse to buy ye back," drawled Katerine, her eyes hard as they flickered over the way Tavis's hand rested upon Storm's knee with an unconscious possessiveness.
"Lady Mary would not part with a brass farthing to save her own mother," Storm remarked calmly.
"Aye, and mayhaps she kens ye be working off the ransom," Janet purred too loudly.
"Janet," Tavis growled warningly into the sudden hush that had fallen over the table.
Refusing to let the woman anger her, Storm coolly retorted, "Ah, well, I did present Tavis with what I considered a reasonable tally, but mayhaps I estimated too low, for he was loathe to accept it."
Tavis's hand tightened on Storm's knee in warning as snickering erupted around the table. He did not like to hear Storm referred to in such terms. Despite the situation, he did not think of her that way and did not want her or any other to do so.
Kate had reached the limit of her endurance. For a fortnight she had struggled to entice Tavis away from the girl but had failed miserably. The way her former lover treated Storm made Kate grind her teeth in jealous rage. Even when the couple fought there was a casual intimacy between them she had never achieved with Tavis.
"Methinks 'twas too high," sneered Kate, rising to stand next to Storm. "A skinny wench like ye wouldnae bring a ha'penth on the streets."
"Enough!" Tavis bellowed, leaping to his feet to glare at his former mistress.
Wine, frustration and desperation robbed Kate of pride, and she clung to Tavis. "How can ye toss me aside for her? Her folk arenae going to ransom her, 'tis plain. Send her back and return to one who kens how to pleasure ye. She cannae ken the ways o' loving. She's naught but a cold Sassanach bitch. How can ye nay see that I am the woman for ye?"
Storm watched the pair for a moment before standing up to leave. Her insides were knotted with a jealousy that grew with each caress Kate offered Tavis. It mattered little that he did not return them. He neither pushed Kate away nor told her to cease. In fact, Storm thought he looked as if he was thinking about all the woman had said. Storm decided to leave before she lost control, revealing her jealousy and fear to everyone.
"Slinking away?" purred Kate, who also took Tavis's silence as acquiescence.
Turning in her advance toward the door, Storm looked Kate over with ill-concealed scorn. "Nay, I simply do not find groveling an entertainment to my liking."
The soft snickering that reached Kate's ears fueled her rage, and she moved to stand directly in front of Storm. "Ye just cannae stomach being set aside, can ye?"
"I believe I will survive," Storm drawled. "If ye wish to take back a man who has ignored ye for a fortnight, consorting with another right before your eyes, then, please, feel free to be such a fool. Just do not ask me to sit and watch a member of my own sex debase herself so."
With a cry of inarticulate rage, Kate backhanded Storm across the face. Tavis would have interfered, but Iain stopped him, saying quietly that the confrontation was past due. Storm was nearly sent sprawling from the force of the blow. She reacted automatically. With a strength increased by anger suppressed for too many days and a healthy jealousy, she struck back. Bringing a small fist up from her hip in a smooth swing, she dealt a blow to Kate's jaw that sent the larger woman sprawling to the floor and kept her there. A surprised silence fell over the hall.
"She's all yours, Tavis," she said quietly, "though I fear ye will have to rouse her first."
Tavis was too amazed to move after Storm and merely stood staring at the unconscious Kate
