"Even though Connor won't admit it to me, I think he enjoyed my surprise. Just wait until he sees the other ones."
"The other ones?" Crispin asked in a hoarse whisper.
"The other surprises, of course."
For some reason she didn't understand, Crispin found her comment hilarious. She patted his arm to let him know she didn't mind and then decided that perhaps it was all the laughter coming from inside that tickled his bones so and got him started.
Of all the men, Connor was the first to gain control of himself. "I'll have a word with my wife later," he promised his friend. "Answer one last question for me before we go outside. Are there any more?"
"Any more what?"
"Surprises."
"Only one that I know of."
Connor looked as if he was going to drop to his knees. Quinlan quickly explained. "It's nothing to worry about. She made a few minor improvements in the great hall that are harmless. I saw the room this morning," he added with a nod.
"You'd better be right," his laird muttered before he reached for the door latch.
"It's going to take me a week to get over seeing my wife on the black. Every time I think about it, I shake like an old man. I keep picturing her flying across the meadow…"
He couldn't go on. He shook his head as if to rid himself of the thought, realized his hand was shaking even now, and let out a loud sigh in frustration.
Quinlan also pictured his mistress riding the stallion, and though he also knew it would take him a long time to recover, he also recognized the skill she'd shown.
Connor was just pulling the door open when he whispered to Quinlan, "She's good, isn't she."
Chapter 15
She was in for it now.
The very first words out of her husband's mouth when he came outside the stables indicated she had crossed that imaginary line inside his mind that separated what could be touched and what couldn't. Apparently he believed the black stallion belonged to him, and only him.
She would, of course, beg to differ, but she was intelligent enough to wait until he'd gotten over his fury.
"I would like to have a word with you in private, Brenna."
"Certainly," she replied, trying her best to look mildly interested and curious, and not at all concerned. She realized almost immediately she hadn't taken the right approach, and changed her attitude to one of indignation.
"I'm glad of it, Connor. It's about time you gave your wife a private moment. When exactly would it be convenient for you to speak to me?"
Her ploy didn't work. "If you don't want me to know you're nervous, you shouldn't back away from me. I would also suggest you stop looking over your shoulder for a means of escape."
She glanced at Crispin to see how he was reacting to his laird's intimidating tactics and was thankful the soldier didn't seem to be paying any attention at all. His gaze was directed at the bottom of the hill as if he were absolutely fascinated by something he was watching there.
Quinlan, however, was hanging on Connor's every word. He still looked a little too complacent to suit her. Not only did he know she was about to catch Connor's thunder, he was glad of it. Didn't the man have anything better to do than follow her around and report her every action to her husband? Apparently he didn't. Although it was probably unkind of her, she made note of the similarity between the soldier and her old nursemaid, Elspeth, who also took delight in telling on Brenna.
"I want this private moment alone with you now," Connor announced.
He waited for her agreement before instructing Crispin and Quinlan to join him for the evening meal, then started back up the hill toward the keep with Brenna at his side.
"My surprise didn't make you happy, did it?"
His snort was all the answer she required. "Are you upset because Willie belongs to you and you don't want anyone else riding him?"
"How many times did you fall?"
Since she was almost certain Quinlan gave him a detailed accounting of her activities, she decided to be completely honest. "So many times I lost count."
"What do you think would have happened if you had been carrying my son?"
She looked thunderstruck, for the possibility had apparently never entered her mind.
"I'm not. I only just finished… I'm not."
"Finished what?"
"Finished realizing I can't be carrying your child yet. I would never deliberately put our baby in jeopardy."
"And you will never ride the black again, will you?"
"Not even with a saddle?"
"The horse has never had a saddle on his back, and I assure you, he wouldn't like it. It's out of the question."
"All right then. Was there anything else you wanted to mention…or do?"
"Don't ever call him Willie again."
She could tell he wasn't going to change his mind. "I won't," she promised before blurting out, "Do you know you haven't kissed me once since you've been back? I cannot help but wonder if you've even thought of it."
He hadn't thought about much else, but he wasn't about to admit it. "We haven't been alone. Remind me tonight, and I'll kiss you then."
She didn't realize he was teasing her. "I'll probably forget," she assured him. "It really doesn't matter to me one way or another."
"Yes, it does. Watch where you're going. Some of the holes haven't been filled yet."
"Speaking of holes…"
"Not yet."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I don't want to hear a word about a chapel. Not now, not ever. Understand?"
"I understand you're being very stubborn."
She knew he was still a little upset about her plan to hide the keep behind a church. Still, he hadn't told her she couldn't, giving her hope that by tomorrow he would be more willing to listen to reason. Surely by then, she would have come up with a better explanation than the blunt truth. Admitting she believed the front of his home was downright ugly would only hurt his feelings, and for that reason, she would have to think of something else to tell him.
She moved on to a far more important matter. "When we go upstairs tonight, I need to have a serious talk with you. I have something extremely important to tell you," she whispered. "You aren't going to like it."
"Tell me now."
"I would rather wait until tonight. I just wanted to prepare you in advance," she added. "My news will surely break your heart."
His laughter wasn't quite the reaction she anticipated. "It's a serious matter," she insisted.
"I assure you, no matter how serious the news is, my heart's going to stay intact. Why don't you tell me now and be done with it? You sound as though you're dreading it."
"I am dreading it. I'm still going to wait until tonight to tell you, however. You're about to see your surprise, and I don't want to ruin your happiness with bad news."
She suddenly wished she hadn't tried to prepare him, because now her stomach felt as though it were tied in knots. How could she not be upset? She was going to start a war between two brothers, God forgive her, but she didn't really have any other choice, did she?
She had asked Father Sinclair that very question during confession, and while he had firmly agreed she must tell her husband when he came home, he also felt she should tell his soldiers right away. It had taken her a long time to convince the priest how important it was that Connor hear before anyone else. Father finally gave in after she promised him she would remain cautious and avoid ever being alone with Raen.
The priest assured her he was going to come back tomorrow to find out how Connor had reacted. She suspected his real motive was to make certain she was all right, and by then, she fully expected to be able to inform him that Raen had already been banished.
Connor pulled her back to the present by telling her to pay attention to where she was walking.