Terri Brisbin Read Online Free

the feast—most he knew but some
he did not—made his blood boil. He swore countless times to himself that he was
not a jealous man, however the blood heating and racing through his veins said
otherwise. Combining her suspicious actions about the strongbox with this odd,
overfriendly behavior now—and that of her friends—and Connor knew something
strange was afoot and Jocelyn was at the center of it.
    “I have seen nothing amiss with Marian,” Duncan said. “She has
just been helping Jocelyn and Ailsa’s mother with all the work.”
    “As has Margriet,” Rurik added.
    Connor waited for them to put it all together. As they looked
through the people, searching for their wives, he knew it would not take long
for them to feel the same thing he did.
    “Why is Marian talking to that young whelp? Is he not the
MacQuarrie heir?” Duncan drank up the last of his whisky and watched more
closely.
    “Margriet and Dougal MacKenzie have something of common
interest?” Rurik asked. He crossed his arms over his chest and Connor recognized
a warrior’s stance. “Why is she standing so close to him?”
    “What is going on?” Duncan asked, not taking his eyes off his
wife as she spoke enthusiastically with the brash young man who would follow his
father as clan chief.
    “I caught Jocelyn trying to open the strongbox last night and
again this morning.”
    Both men looked at him as though he had three heads and he
understood their disbelief, for it had been his at one point. But Jocelyn’s
guilty gaze had confirmed it for him.
    “What was she doing?” Duncan asked first.
    “Did she take anything?” Rurik followed.
    “Nay. But she did not have the chance.” Connor drank another
mouthful from his cup and shrugged. “There is nothing in that box, not the
documents or anything else stored in there from time to time, that she could not
see if she but asked. So what is she looking for that she does not want to
admit?”
    Now their wives left those to whom they spoke and seemed to
change places, each one speaking to one to whom the others had just spoken.
    “’Tis time to find out the truth,” he declared.
    “Past time,” Rurik said as he slammed his cup down on the
table. Flexing his shoulders and stretching his arms, he readied for a
battle.
    “They are my guests, Rurik. Remember that.”
    “Hospitality can be stretched a bit, can it not?” Duncan asked
with a jealous glint in his eyes. Duncan had nearly violated the Highland
practice once in his past when it came to defending Marian, so Connor did not
doubt he would do it again if she was offered insult. Connor put his hand on
Duncan’s shoulder and squeezed it.
    “She does not look in need of defense now, so be wary and slow
to act in my hall, Duncan.”
    He put his cup down and stood, lining up next to his friends.
The women looked at one another and, with a nod from Jocelyn, they all walked
toward her solar. Now was their opportunity.
    “It is time to find out what is going on between them,” Connor
said. “Get your wives, take them somewhere and find out the truth.”
    “And you?”
    “Jocelyn is about to discover that the Beast of the Highlands
yet lives.”
    The three stalked their wives across the hall and reached them
just as they reached the chamber Jocelyn used for all manner of things. The
women noticed them at the same moment and lined up, facing them. Connor watched
as both guilt and nervousness filled their expressions—as though caught sneaking
into Cook’s store of sweets—and as though they knew the moment of reckoning was
at hand.
    “Marian,” Duncan began as he held out his hand to his wife.
“Come with me.”
    “Margriet.” Rurik said nothing more and waited for his wife to
walk with him.
    Jocelyn watched silently as her friends were drawn away and
then turned to him. He looked over her shoulder at the solar and realized he
needed more privacy than what this chamber offered if he was to succeed in his
plan.
    “Come, wife,” he