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  Stephen didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Docile? Bronwyn! She has no idea what the word means She was standing to one side probably to judge whether to use a knife or that hell-hound dog of hers.”

  “Why should she do that?”

  “She’s a Scot, man! The Scots hate the English for burning their crops, raping their women, because the English are a damned, insufferable, arrogant lot of bastards who think they’re better than the honest, generous Scots, and—”

  “Wait a minute!” Gavin laughed. “The last I heard, you were an Englishman.”

  Stephen returned to his food, forcing himself to calm. “I guess I forgot for a moment.”

  Gavin leaned back in his chair and studied his brother. “From the length of your hair, I’d say you forgot some months ago.”

  “I wouldn’t criticize the Scots’ dress until you’ve tried it, if I were you,” Stephen snapped.

  Gavin put his hand on his brother’s arm. “What’s wrong? What is worrying you?”

  Stephen rose and walked toward the fireplace. “Sometimes I don’t know who I am anymore. When I went to Scotland, I knew I was a Montgomery, and I felt quite noble about my mission there. I was to teach the ignorant Scots our more civilized ways.”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “They aren’t ignorant, Gavin. Far from it. Lord, but what we could learn from them! We don’t even know the meaning of loyalty. That clan of Bronwyn’s would die for her, and damned if she won’t—and hasn’t—jeopardized her life for them. Their women sit in on their decision-making councils, and I’ve heard the women make damn good decisions.”

  “Like Judith,” Gavin said quietly.

  “Yes!” Stephen said loudly. “But she has to fight you for every inch.”

  “Of course,” Gavin answered firmly. “Women should—”

  Stephen’s laugh stopped him. “Somewhere along the way I stopped thinking ‘women should.’ ”

  “Tell me more about Scotland,” Gavin said, wanting to change the subject.

  Stephen sat down again, returned to the food. His voice sounded far away. “It’s a beautiful place.”

  “I heard it does little but rain.”

  Stephen waved his hand. “What’s a little rain to a Scot?”

  Gavin was thoughtful, watching his brother, hearing beyond his words. “Christopher Audley came by some time ago. Did he find you before your wedding?”

  Stephen pushed his food away. “Chris was killed in Scotland.”

  “How?”

  Stephen wondered how he could explain that Chris was killed in what, to a knight like Gavin, would be a dishonorable fight. “A cattle raid. Some of Bronwyn’s men were killed trying to protect him.”

  “Protect Chris? But he was an excellent fighter. His armor—”

  “Damn his armor!” Stephen snapped. “The man couldn’t run. He was, as Douglas said, trapped inside a steel coffin.”

  “I don’t understand. How?”

  Stephen was saved from answering by the door bursting open.

  Raine and Miles exploded into the room. Raine bounded across the floor, his footsteps jarring the windows. He lifted his older, but lighter, brother into a crushing embrace. “Stephen! We heard you were dead.”

  “He will be if you don’t release him,” Miles said calmly.

  Raine let up on some of the pressure he was exerting. “You’re still a skinny little thing,” he said smugly.

  Stephen grinned at his brother, then proceeded to push his arms out against Raine’s. He grinned more broadly as he felt Raine’s arms move. Stephen pushed harder and Raine applied more pressure. Raine lost.

  Stephen smiled at his brother in pure pleasure. There weren’t many men who could overpower Raine’s massive strength without resorting to a weapon. He offered silent thanks to Tam.

  Raine stepped away and grinned at his brother with pride. “Scotland seems to agree with you.”

  “Or else you’ve neglected your training,” Stephen said smugly.

  Raine’s dimples deepened. “Perhaps you’d like to test that.”

  “Here!” Miles said, stepping between his brothers. “Don’t let Raine kill you before I can welcome you home.” He embraced Stephen.

  “You’ve grown, Miles,” Stephen said, “and you’ve put on weight.”

  Gavin snorted. “It’s the women. Two of the cook’s helpers are trying to see which one can outcook the other.”

  “I see,” Stephen laughed. “And the prize is our baby brother?”

  Raine laughed. “What there is left of him after the other women have finished with him.”

  Miles ignored all of his brothers. He rarely smiled broadly, as his brothers did. He was a solemn man, and the emotion that he felt showed in his piercing gray eyes. Now he looked about the room. “James said your wife returned with you.”

  “Leave it to Miles,” Gavin laughed. “At least now I can have Judith to myself once in a while. Every time I look up, she’s with one of my worthless brothers.”

  “Gavin works her like a serf,” Raine said half seriously.

  Stephen smiled. It was good to be home again, to see Gavin and Raine arguing, to hear them teasing Miles. His brothers had changed little in the last few months. Raine, if anything, looked stronger and healthier, his love for the world carried openly. Miles still stood to one side, a part of the group yet separate. And Gavin drew them all together. Gavin was the solid one, the one who loved the earth. Where Gavin was, was home for the Montgomerys.

  “I’m not sure I’m ready for you to meet Bronwyn,” Stephen began.

  “Shy, is she?” Raine asked, concerned. “I hope you didn’t drag her all across England with you. Why didn’t we see your baggage wagons? Where are your men?”

  Stephen took a deep breath and laughed. They’d never believe him if he told the truth. “No, I wouldn’t exactly call Bronwyn shy,” he chuckled.

  Chapter Fourteen

  BRONWYN SAT UP TO HER NECK IN A TUB OF HOT, SOAPY water. A fire burned brightly in the big fireplace, making the room warm and fragrant. She relaxed in the tub and looked about her. The bedchamber was beautiful, from the beamed ceiling to the Spanish-tile floor. The walls were of white-painted wood with tiny rosebuds twining about the joints. The enormous canopied bed was hung with deep rose velvet. The chairs, benches, and cabinets in the room were all handsomely carved with tall, pointed arches.

  Bronwyn smiled and leaned back in the tub. It was pleasant to be in such luxury, even if at the same time she felt the money could have been spent for something else. She and Stephen had seen great poverty as they rode toward the Montgomery estate. For herself, she would have used the money on her people, but she knew the English were different.

  She closed her eyes and thought of the last few minutes. She smiled as she thought of the Judith she’d expected and the Judith she met. She’d expected a soft, sweet woman, but there was nothing soft about Judith. There wasn’t a servant who didn’t jump to do her bidding. Before Bronwyn was fully aware of what was happening, she had found herself undressed and in a tub. She hadn’t known it but the hot water was exactly what she needed.

  The door opened softly, and Judith entered. “Feeling better?” she asked.

  “Much. I had forgotten what it was like to be so pampered.”

  Judith grimaced and held out a large, warm towel for Bronwyn. “I’m afraid the Montgomery men are not ones for pampering their women. Gavin thinks nothing of asking me to ride with him through the worst of storms.”

  Bronwyn wrapped the towel around her body and looked at Judith carefully. “And what would you do if he bade you stay at home?” she asked quietly.

  Judith laughed warmly. “I would not stay at home. Gavin too often overlooks what he considers unimportant details, such as a steward stealing grain from the storehouses.”

  Bronwyn sat down before the fire and sighed. “I wish you could look at my account books. I’m afraid I too often neglect them.”

  Judith picked up an ivory comb a