"I believe ye know my companions, though the years may have changed them a bit and ye took little note of some of them the day they helped rout Hugh."
Keeping an eye on the knife she held on him with a false air of casualness, Tavis looked at the others. It was a moment before he could see past the seven years of growing to the children once held for ransom by the MacLagans. The boys were all growing into very fine young men, strong, tall and handsome. Little Matilda could be only about eleven, yet she showed promise of being a very attractive woman. Storm evidently still led the group of friends and kin.
Colin entered, but was halted in his advance by his youngest son. "What the devil is going on here?"
" 'Tis a private matter atween Storm and Tavis. Dinnae fash yourself, she willnae kill him."
"How can ye be so sure, Iain? She doesnae look to be feeling too friendly," Colin drawled. "The heirs again?"
"Aye," Sholto answered. "I cannae think why she has risked returning. All she told me and Angus when we kenned who it was, was that she intended no harm to anyone, only a surprise for Tavis."
"Weel, keep a close eye on her. The lass isnae a killer, but there's nay telling with a lass hurt and set aside." He nodded toward a slowly recovering Katerine. "I suspicion he was wenching as well."
Sholto laughed softly. "Aye, and she got that dirk right atween them. A good, clean throw it was."
"A reunion, is it?" Tavis asked quietly, trying to distract Storm, for she was holding the knife with too serious an intent and he saw with angry disgust that his family was not going to aid him.
"Ye could say that." Storm was taking a perverse pleasure in his evident discomfort.
Katerine dragged herself back into her seat. She saw at a glance who wielded the knife and feared for her life. Her eyes widened when she saw that Tavis's family plus a number of other important men of Caraidland stood apart, clearly not intending to do anything to aid their kinsman. For a moment she contemplated making a run for it, but then decided she was safer if she just sat quietly.
Storm knew the woman was awake but kept her eyes on Tavis. The reminder of Katerine's presence produced the clear image of the two kissing and touching each other. At that moment she hated Tavis, hated him for showing her heaven only to hurl her into hell. She had given him her most precious gifts, her love and her virtue, only to have him toss them away. At times she feared that the memory of that wound would never pass. She often feared it was mortal, so much did it hurt.
"It has been months, Storm," Tavis said quietly as he tried to think of a way to obliterate past hurts and a present misconception, but her cold, angry eyes did not encourage him.
"Aye, and I can see how ye have pined for me," she snarled, and buried her knife in the chair between his strong legs and very close to the seat of his virility, that which she both hated and ached for.
Tavis moved faster than he had ever done. He nearly flew from the chair and moved to put it between him and his angry lover. Her action had caused him to break out into a cold sweat. He watched her yank her knife free and slowly move after him. Unlike his family, he did not feel all that confident that she would not do him any real harm.
"Ye should be more careful with that knife, Storm," he said inanely.
"Aye. I should adjust my aim," she purred as she stalked him. "Sure 'n I am sore tempted to remove that part of ye that ye distribute so freely. That would surely curtail your drinking and wenching."
"Isnae anyone going to do anything?" asked Katerine, unable to keep quiet any longer.
"If that bitch says another word, ye pin her to the chair, Cousin Hadden."
"My pleasure," drawled that young man as he drew his sword and stood next to Katerine.
"Now, Storm, ye got no call to do that. Kate is innocent in this."
"Kate was ne'er innocent. She was born in a bed and decided to spend all her days there in active service. I would be doing the women here a kindness an I skewered the slut here and now."
Tavis cursed as he stumbled slightly on his back-stepping away from the stalking Storm. He was still too muddled with drink to be able to take her dagger away quickly and cleanly. He could see, almost feel, the hurt in her, mixed in equal parts with her rage. Even so, his mind could not leave the problem of avoiding her knife long enough to think on a way to placate her. In all the dreams he had had about her return, he had never imagined it this way. He ached to take her into his arms, but in the mood that she was in he had little doubt that she would slip that knife between his ribs.
"Do ye think we ought to put a stop to this?" Sholto asked softly.
"Nay," said Colin. His eyes had studied Storm thoroughly and he had noticed something the others had not seen yet, so he added, "She isnae here to kill him. Let her vent her rage. She is due that much."
"Why have ye come here, Storm? 'Tis plain ye wish naught from me," Tavis said quietly.
"Nay, I do not want anything from ye," she lied, "but 'tis not what I want that brings me here, ye rutting bastard. If there had been a choice, I would have stayed at Hagaleah and seen to it
