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  “I’m not cold,” she said honestly as she kept herself from smiling at Hugh’s blue nose. “I merely wish to…” She looked down at her hands in confusion.

  “Of course!” he said in embarrassment. “I will send a guard—”

  “No! I have Rab, and I’m sure I can find my way.”

  “Your wish is my command,” he smiled, then kissed her hand again.

  Bronwyn had to control herself from running inside the house. She wanted to do nothing to make Hugh suspicious. Once inside, though, she knew the need to hurry. “Rab,” she commanded, “find Stephen.”

  Rab raced up the stairs in a spurt of joy. All morning he’d been straining against Bronwyn’s commands. The dog stopped before a door she suspected was Hugh’s. He sniffed and danced about until he took off up some stairs, Bronwyn lifting her heavy skirts and running after him.

  At the top of the third flight of stairs was a heavy oak door, its window set with iron bars. Rab jumped up, his forefeet at the window. He barked twice in recognition.

  “Rab!” came Stephen’s voice.

  “Get down!” Bronwyn commanded. “Stephen, are you all right? Why are you being held prisoner?” She held her hand out to him, grabbed his through the bars.

  He took her hand in both of his, stared at her. “Is this the hand you’ve let Hugh kiss so often?” he asked coldly.

  “This is no time for one of your jealousy attacks. Why are you being held prisoner? And what is that absurd celebration about?”

  “Absurd?” Stephen sputtered, tossing her hand back through the bars. “You didn’t look like you weren’t enjoying yourself. Tell me, do you find Hugh attractive? A lot of women do.”

  She stared at him, patted Rab who was nervous because his master was being held captive. Her mind was racing. “This isn’t serious at all, is it?” she asked quietly. “This is some sort of game between you and your friend.”

  “It’s not a game when my wife is involved,” he said fiercely.

  “Damn you, Stephen Montgomery!” she hissed. “I told you not to come here. No, you think you’re so superior. Now I want to know what’s going on and how to get you out of here, though I have no idea why I want you out.”

  Stephen narrowed his eyes at her. “If you give in to Hugh and let him win, I’ll break your neck.”

  She was beginning to understand. “Do you mean that I am being used in some sort of wager? What is he supposed to win?”

  When Stephen didn’t speak, she answered for him. “I think I can guess. Hugh thinks he can woo me to his bed, and you believe him. Did it ever enter that swollen, vain, pea brain of yours that I might have some say in this? Do you think I am so mindless that any man who smiles at me and kisses my hand can have me in his bed? You should know I’d take a knife to him at the least. Rab growls every time Hugh touches me.”

  “Which seems to be often from what I can see.”

  Bronwyn noticed the window in the far side of the cell. So that’s why Hugh refused to turn the pavilion. He wanted Stephen to be able to see them together. She looked at Stephen’s cold, angry face, and she began to get angry too. Those two men were using her in some childish prank that was more suited to ten-year-olds. Hugh had said he could win Bronwyn to his bed, and Stephen obviously thought so little of her morals and integrity that he believed she could be won by any man who set himself to the task. And Hugh! He insulted her, treated her as if she were stupid, yet had every confidence that she’d succumb to his charms.

  “Damn both of you!” she whispered before turning away.

  “Bronwyn! Come back here!” Stephen commanded. “Tell Hugh you know of the plot and get the key from him.”

  She looked back at him and gave him her sweetest smile. “And miss the entertainment Sir Hugh has planned for me?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows. She started down the stairs, her mouth set against the string of curses Stephen yelled after her. “Damn the both of them,” she repeated to herself.

  Chapter Thirteen

  BRONWYN WAS STILL FUMING WHEN SHE REACHED THE foot of the stairs. Sir Hugh waited for her, an impatient look on his face. He looked as if he might chastise her for tarrying too long. Her first impulse was to lecture him about what he was trying to do, but the thought vanished as quickly as it came. Englishmen! she thought. When she’d first met Stephen, he knew there was no way but the English way. He laughed at her when she asked him to wear the Scots dress instead of the heavy English armor. Now she doubted if she could get him into one of Sir Hugh’s heavy, padded jackets. But Stephen had had to go through a battle before he was willing to change.

  Perhaps she could wage her own battle, and both or these Englishmen could learn something that every Scotsman knew—that women were quite capable of thinking on their own.

  “I was beginning to worry about you,” Sir Hugh said, extending his hand.

  Bronwyn widened her eyes innocently. “I hope you don’t mind but I was looking about your house. It is magnificent! Tell me, is all this yours?”

  Sir Hugh took her arm and tucked it under his. His chest expanded visibly. “All of it and about seven hundred acres. Of course, I have another estate in the south.”

  She sighed heavily. “Stephen,” she began shyly, “Stephen doesn’t have a place such as this, does he?”

  Hugh frowned. “Why, no. He does own some land somewhere, I believe, and it has an old tower on it but not a house. But surely your own estates…”

  Again she sighed. “But they’re in Scotland.”

  “Oh, yes, of course. I understand. It’s a cold, wet country, isn’t it? No wonder you want to live here Well, perhaps Stephen—” He broke off.

  She smiled to herself. It was just as she thought. Hugh wasn’t really interested in her, or at least he wouldn’t actually dishonor his friend; he was merely bored and wanted to see Stephen fume. He mentioned his friend too often to be a true enemy. Stephen thought she could be enticed into any attractive man’s bed, and Hugh merely used her as a means to antagonize his friend. Neither man considered her wants or thoughts.

  She smiled more broadly as she began to wonder what would happen if she upset their plans somewhat. What would Sir Hugh say if she told him she was discontent with Stephen and that she would love to stay in England with a fine, handsome man like Hugh?

  As they approached the pavilion she looked skyward. “I think the sun is about to shine. Perhaps we could move our chairs from under the canopy.”

  Sir Hugh smiled at her suggestion, then ordered the chairs brought forth.

  Bronwyn ordered them set closer together, then smiled at Hugh’s frown. She wasted no time once they were seated. Musicians played a sweet love song, but she never looked at them; she had eyes only for Hugh “You have no wife, my lord?” she asked quietly.

  “No…not as yet. I have not been as fortunate as my friend Stephen.”

  “Is he really your friend? Could you possibly be my friend also?”

  Hugh looked deeply into her eyes, fearing that he’d lose himself in them. Stephen was indeed fortunate. “Of course, you are my friend,” he said in a fatherly manner.

  She sighed, moistened her lips and parted them. “I can tell you are a sensitive, intelligent man. I wish I had a husband such as you.” She smiled becomingly at the way his jaw dropped. “You must know about my marriage. I had no choice in the matter. I tried to choose someone else but…Lord Stephen.”

  Hugh stiffened his back. “I heard that Stephen had to fight for you, and he did a damn good job of it too. I heard that Chatworth came at his back.”

  “Oh, yes, Stephen is a good fighter, but he isn’t now can I say it? He doesn’t content me.”

  Hugh’s eyes widened. “Are you saying that Stephen Montgomery is lacking in some way? Let me tell you that we’ve been friends all our lives. And as for his women!” He was starting to get angry now. “When we were in Scotland together, Stephen was half in love with a little whore, and he was blind to the fact that she was sleeping with half the troops. I paid her t