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  “What were you saying to the man?” Stephen asked flatly.

  She twisted out of his grip. “Do you never say anything to me except in anger? Why can’t you be like other husbands and greet your wife in a friendly manner? I have not seen you in days, and all you have done is curse me.”

  He grabbed her into his arms. “Bronwyn,” he whispered. “You will be the death of me. Why did you have to jump into an icy pond in the dead of winter?”

  She pushed away from him. “I refuse to answer such questions.”

  He grabbed her again, pulled her mouth to his, bruising her, his teeth hard against her lips. He seemed as if he wanted more than just a kiss from her. “I missed you,” he whispered. “Every minute I thought of you.”

  Her heart was pounding in her breast. She felt like she could melt against him. But his next words broke the spell.

  “Was that one of Miles’s men you were talking to when I entered?”

  She tried to pull away from him. “Is this your jealousy again? I can hear it in your voice.”

  “Bronwyn, no. Listen to me. I only want to warn you. The Englishmen are not like your Highlanders. You can’t talk to them as if they were your brothers as you do your own men. In England too often the ladies sleep with their husbands’ men-at-arms.”

  Bronwyn’s eyes widened. “Are you accusing me of sleeping with your men?” she gasped.

  “No, of course not, but—”

  “But you accused me of doing just that with Hugh Lasco.”

  “Hugh Lasco is a gentleman!” Stephen snapped.

  Bronwyn nearly jumped away from him. “So!” she blazed. “At least you think I am a discriminating whore!” She whirled about and started toward the door.

  Stephen grabbed her arm. “I am not accusing you of anything. I am trying to explain that things are different in England than in Scotland.”

  “Oh! So now I’m too stupid to be able to learn the difference between one country and another. You can adjust but I can’t!”

  He stared at her. “What’s wrong with you? You aren’t acting like yourself at all.”

  She turned away from him. “And what would you know of me? You’ve never done anything but curse at me since I met you. Nothing I do outside the bedroom pleases you. If I lead my men, that makes you angry. If I try to save one of your brother’s serfs, that angers you. If I’m kind to your men, you accuse me of sleeping with them. Tell me, what can I do to please you?”

  Stephen glared at her with cold eyes. “I had no idea you found me so unpleasant. I will leave you to your own company.” He turned away stiffly and left her.

  Bronwyn stared after him, tears beginning to form in her eyes. What was wrong with her? Stephen hadn’t really accused her of sleeping with the man, and he had every right to warn her about what his men would think. Why couldn’t she welcome him home like she wanted to? All she wanted was to be held by him, loved by him. Yet for some reason she started a quarrel every time he approached her.

  Suddenly she felt as if her whole body ached. She put her hand to her forehead. She wasn’t used to not feeling well, and now she realized she’d been ignoring the feeling for days. Of course, her late nights with Judith and this morning spent in a half-frozen pond hadn’t helped her any. She cursed the disease-ridden English countryside and left the stables.

  “Bronwyn,” Judith called. “Would you like some fresh bread?”

  Bronwyn leaned back against the stone wall of the stables. The quarrel was upsetting her stomach. The thought of food nauseated her. “No,” she whispered, her hand to her stomach.

  “Bronwyn, what is it?” Judith asked, setting the basket down. “Aren’t you feeling well?” She put her hand on her sister-in-law’s forehead. “Here, sit down.” She urged her to a barrel set by the wall. “Breathe deeply and it will pass.”

  “What will?” Bronwyn asked sharply.

  “The nausea.”

  “The what?” Bronwyn gasped. “What are you talking about?”

  Judith paused. “Unless I miss my guess, you’re going to have a baby.” She smiled broadly at Bronwyn’s look. “It is rather startling when you first realize it.” She caressed her own stomach. “We’ll deliver close together,” she said proudly.

  “You! You’re going to have a baby too?”

  Judith had a faraway smile on her face. “Yes. I…lost my first one, a miscarriage, so for this one I’m being so careful I’m not even telling anyone. Except Gavin, of course.”

  “Of course,” Bronwyn said and looked away, then back again. “When is your baby due?”

  “In seven months.” She chuckled.

  “What are you laughing at?” Bronwyn asked. “I need some humor right now.”

  “I was just thinking that my mother will be able to come to my lying-in.” She paused, then began to explain. “I thought she would not be able to come, as she was to deliver at the same time.”

  “Your mother! How fortunate you are to have your parents alive.”

  “No,” Judith smiled. “My father died several months ago.”

  “And the child is not his?” Bronwyn asked quietly.

  “Oh, no, and I am pleased by that. My father often beat my mother. She was held captive by a young man, and her guard was Gavin’s best man, John Bassett. I’m afraid my mother and he found an extraordinary means of entertainment.”

  Bronwyn laughed.

  “Yes,” Judith continued. “When Gavin found out there was to be a child, he allowed John and my mother to marry.”

  “And she’s had her own babe now?”

  “It’s due in a couple of months, so she should be well enough to travel to me when I am due. I must get back to work now. Why don’t you just sit there and rest?”

  “Judith, you said your mother was being held captive. How did she escape?”

  Judith’s golden eyes darkened with memory. “I killed her captor, and Stephen’s men brought down the wall of the old keep.”

  Bronwyn could see the pain in Judith’s eyes. She asked no more questions before Judith turned away toward the gate that separated the two parts of the castle complex.

  Bronwyn sat still for quite some time. A baby! she thought. A soft, sweet thing like Kirsty’s baby. Her mind seemed to leave her, and she hardly noticed when she stood and began to walk. She thought of Tam and how proud he’d be of her. She smiled dreamily when she thought of Stephen’s reaction to the news. He’d be so happy! He’d grab her and toss her above his head and laugh with pleasure. Then they’d argue over whether the child would be named MacArran or Montgomery. There was no doubt, of course, that he’d be a MacArran.

  She kept walking in a dreamlike trance, never noticing when she reached the open gate. The men on the wall guarding the entrance didn’t challenge her or hinder her movements in any way.

  What would she name her child? she thought. James for her father, and perhaps another name for Stephen’s family. What if the babe was a girl? she thought and smiled warmly. Clan MacArran would have two female lairds in a row. She must teach her daughter all the things she’d need to know to be laird.

  “My lady,” someone said.

  Bronwyn hardly heard the voice. She was in a trance, and very little penetrated it. In fact, she was hardly aware that she’d walked for quite some time and was now out of sight of the castle guards.

  “My lady,” the voice repeated. “Are you well?”

  Bronwyn looked up at the man with an angelic smile of great warmth. “I am well,” she said in a vague manner. “I am more than well.”

  The man dismounted and went to her side. “I can see that,” he said in a low voice, his lips close to her ear.

  Bronwyn still paid little attention to the man. All she could think of was her child. Morag would love another baby to care for, she was thinking as the man’s lips touched her ear. The touch brought her out of her reverie.

  She jumped away from him. “How dare you,” she gasped. No man except Stephen had ever touched her unless she allowed him.