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"I remember every word. He, too, suggested I learn from his mistakes. He loved his own sweet Isabelle and felt she betrayed him by dying. He swore he never forgave her. It was all bluster, Alec. My father was a hard man who found it difficult to speak of such emotions without sounding angry. He was trying to console me, and even as a boy, I understood. I don't understand the need for this ridiculous conversation, however."

Alec didn't say another word for a long while. He knew Connor was considering his remarks and certainly was trying to convince himself he didn't already love his wife. Ah, the foolishness of men who embraced the notion that loving would weaken them.

"I sometimes wonder, if I hadn't come so close to losing Jamie, would I even now acknowledge I love her? Hopefully, I would, because I'm older and perhaps a little wiser now. I didn't know any better back then, Connor; but you do because I have just explained it all to you. Do as I suggest and quit resisting. You'll find it's less tormenting."

"I have only been afraid of one man, Alec, and God help me the day I realize I'm afraid of a woman. You insult me by suggesting my wife has such power over me."

"Who was the man you feared?" Alec asked, curious about his earlier remark.

"You. I was afraid you wouldn't help me and my friends."

"Your father knew I would take you in. You weren't as certain, were you? Even then, you were quite cynical. Your wife isn't, however. She surprised me the way she put herself in front of you. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought she was protecting you."

"She was trying to protect me. The woman doesn't have many fears. If she lives a full year, I'll be surprised."

"She's strong, Connor, and as intelligent as my wife. There are times I think they could both be more intelligent than we are. I can see from the way you're looking at me you think I'm wrong. Answer a question for me. Where do you think our wives are sleeping tonight?"

"In our beds."

"Where are we sleeping?"

Connor laughed. "In the damp, cold forest. Get some rest, Alec, and stop hounding me with foolish talk."

His brother was in the mood to take the suggestion. "One last thing," Alec whispered after he closed his eyes and let out a loud yawn. "If you ever tell anyone about this conversation, I'll kill you."

Crispin pulled his laird away from his thoughts and back to the present. "Is something bothering you?" he asked as soon as he noticed Connor's frown.

"I'm just bone weary like you are," he answered.

"You're also just as covered with dirt and dried blood as I am. God only knows what we smell like. As soon as I see to my horse, I'm going to the lake. I assume you'll do the same."

"Is there a particular woman you want to impress?"

"Several come to mind, but I was considering how your wife will react to seeing you, Laird. She's bound to run the other way."

Quinlan caught Connor's attention then, for though it was customary to wait for his laird in front of the keep, his friend had altered his routine and was now waiting for his laird in front of the stables. The expression on Quinlan's face was one Connor had never seen before, and had he not known better, he would have thought his friend looked relieved to see him.

Crispin had the very same thought. "Whatever the problem was, it must have been exasperating."

Quinlan waited until they dismounted before coming forward. "All's well, Connor."

"I expected it would be."

"From the look on your face, I thought something was surely amiss," Crispin remarked. "You look relieved to see us."

"Relieved? If I were not a man, I swear I would be overcome with joy."

"Then there was a problem?" Crispin asked.

"I've just informed our laird there were no problems. There were, however, minor frustrating inconveniences," Quinlan added before once again addressing his laird. "Connor, I swear to God, I'm never going to get married."

"I take it, then, my wife was the cause of these inconveniences?"

"Your wife could never cause an inconvenience," he managed to say without laughing, which Quinlan personally felt had to be a rather amazing feat.

Davis and another younger soldier came outside to take the horses. The stablemaster waited until his assistant had greeted his laird and gone back inside before he took his turn.

"It's good to have you home, Laird. Your black is inside his stall, should you be wondering."

"I assumed he would be," he answered, puzzled that the old man wanted to tell him where his horse was.

"Well, now, I quit assuming that over a week ago," he said.

"Did he give you any trouble while I was gone?"

"No, he didn't, Laird, and he sure as certain didn't look me right in the eye and lie to me either."

Before Connor could ask him to explain, Quinlan grabbed hold of Davis's plaid and shook him. "Your mistress didn't lie. She smiled at you. Recognize the difference."

The stablemaster nodded agreement before Quinlan released him, then bowed to his laird and hurried back inside.

"What was that all about?" Crispin asked. "Has Davis gone addled?"

"They have all gone addled," Quinlan replied. "I, however, am a much better man and didn't have any trouble at all figuring out what her game was."

Crispin was trying hard not to laugh. "Are you referring to our laird's wife?"

"I am. She is alive and well, however."

"I sure as hell hope so," Connor interjected.

Crispin lost his battle and burst into laughter.

Quinlan didn't appreciate his friend's behavior. "Laugh all you want now. Just remember, mi'lady didn't kill herself while I was on watch."

Assuming his friend was exaggerating the problems Brenna had caused, Connor shook his head to let Quinlan know he wasn't in the mood to hear about it now and started up the path toward the keep. He seemed compelled to see Brenna for a moment, just to make certain she was all right before he rode to the lake.

"I'm not interested in the paltry problems a mere woman might cause you," he remarked. "Have you anything more significant to tell me?"

"No," Quinlan answered. "As I said before, I handled the inconveniences."

"I'm curious to hear what made our friend whine like a female," Crispin remarked. "You may tell me everything, Quinlan, if it will make you feel better."

Quinlan chuckled. "Mi'lady asked me not to tell her husband, and if I can't tell him, I certainly can't tell you."

"What exactly doesn't my wife want me to hear?"

"Her surprises. She has several waiting for you and doesn't want me to ruin them. Those were her instructions, by the way, but if you insist…"

"No, I'll let her tell me. I'm not going to like the surprises, though, am I?"

"Perhaps," was all Quinlan would allow.

"Where is she now?"

"She's measuring."

"Meaning?"

"Father Sinclair's here for the day. Your wife requested his presence so that he could approve her dimensions for the chapel."

Connor didn't say a word for a long minute. "Where exactly is she measuring?"

Quinlan smiled as he told him. "In the courtyard."

"You're jesting."

"I'm not. She wants to put the chapel up against the keep."

Both Connor and Crispin looked incredulous. Quinlan found their reaction immensely satisfying. They were both finally beginning to understand what he had been up against.

"You put a stop to it, didn't you?" Connor asked.

"Of course. Just as soon as I found out what she was doing, I told her she had to wait and get permission from you. I would mention one other matter. I threatened to lock her in her chamber."

"Because of the chapel," Connor said with a nod.

"Actually, no, it was another matter that caused me to use such a threat."

"How did our mistress react to your warning?" Crispin asked.

"She knew I was bluffing. She misses our laird, by the way, so much so, she is easily startled. The least little sound makes her jump. She isn't eating much either. I was so concerned, I took her to Lady Kincaid. She assured me Lady Brenna was all right. She must have been correct because as soon as Sinclair arrived, she went to confession and seems much happier now. I told her word had reached us that you would be home by nightfall, and she was extremely pleased with the news."