mayhap ye can think long and hard on all the dreams and visions ye have had concerning this matter.
There may be some small but verra important thing that ye will remember.”
Morainn did not think there would ever come a day when she could abide touching one of those hairpins, but she nodded. She would force herself to do it. To her shame, she admitted to herself that the biggest reason she would do so was for Sir Tormand Murray’s sake and not the poor murdered women’s.
Morainn hated to think that she could be so swayed by a handsome face.
It was only a few minutes later that she stood at her door watching the men leave, her arm around Walin’
s small shoulders. All the men had given her a very gallant farewell, but it was Tormand’s that she knew would linger in her mind. There had been a look in his eyes that had caused her heart to pound with a strange mix of fear and anticipation. If she did not wish to end up as just one more of what was undoubtedly a legion of besotted women, she would have to be on her guard around that man.
“She has a true gift,” Simon said, as he rode beside Tormand.
“Or a curse,” Tormand said. “She saw Isabella’s murder, saw that they took her eyes.”
“Aye, in many ways she did, although she didnae see it too clearly, thank God. I am reluctant to ask her to try again with another one of the hairpins, but we have nothing, have found no trail to follow on our own. Whoever is doing this is verra clever or verra lucky.”
“They say madness can oftimes make one more cunning,” said Bennett. “I am just finding it difficult to believe a woman would have a part in all this. Och, aye, I ken that they can be as cruel and vicious as any mon, but to actually wield the knife? That is what I find so hard to accept.”
“And, yet, it makes a strange kind of sense,” said Harcourt, and shrugged when the others looked at him.
“From what ye tell me, each woman had her beauty utterly destroyed. A woman could understand how much that meant to the women, mayhap e’en hate that beauty they hold. ’Tis the fact that the women’s hair was cut off that makes me inclined to think a woman really is involved. A mon might destroy a Page 42
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woman’s face or body in some mad, jealous rage, but I doubt he would realize how important that hair would be to a woman.”
“Ah, aye, ye may be right,” murmured Simon. “Then again, I believe we can all agree that there is madness behind these murders and who can understand the mind of a mon touched by madness, or a woman’s.”
Tormand only half-listened as Simon and his kinsmen debated all that Morainn had told them. Most of his thoughts were on the woman they had just left and not on her words. He was certain they had shared a dream last night. Such a thing had never happened to him before, but he knew it meant something, was important in a way that left him very uneasy. It implied some bond had been made between him and Morainn Ross and he did not want any bonds.
There was also what had happened when he had touched her hand to worry about. He did not mind being strongly attracted to a woman. If nothing else, it made the lovemaking richer and more heated, more satisfying. But he had felt a strong lusting for a woman before and had never felt such a wave of heat and longing simply by touching the woman’s hand. A large part of him was eager to pursue Morainn, to find out how that fierce heat would feel once he had her naked between the sheets. Another part of him wanted to put the spurs to his horse and ride as far away from Morainn Ross as he could.
“I would appreciate it if ye didnae try to seduce this one.”
Simon’s voice startled Tormand out of his thoughts about getting Morainn into his bed, which he decided was a good thing because he was growing hard and hungry. Tormand was glad to see that his kinsmen were riding ahead of him and Simon and
There may be some small but verra important thing that ye will remember.”
Morainn did not think there would ever come a day when she could abide touching one of those hairpins, but she nodded. She would force herself to do it. To her shame, she admitted to herself that the biggest reason she would do so was for Sir Tormand Murray’s sake and not the poor murdered women’s.
Morainn hated to think that she could be so swayed by a handsome face.
It was only a few minutes later that she stood at her door watching the men leave, her arm around Walin’
s small shoulders. All the men had given her a very gallant farewell, but it was Tormand’s that she knew would linger in her mind. There had been a look in his eyes that had caused her heart to pound with a strange mix of fear and anticipation. If she did not wish to end up as just one more of what was undoubtedly a legion of besotted women, she would have to be on her guard around that man.
“She has a true gift,” Simon said, as he rode beside Tormand.
“Or a curse,” Tormand said. “She saw Isabella’s murder, saw that they took her eyes.”
“Aye, in many ways she did, although she didnae see it too clearly, thank God. I am reluctant to ask her to try again with another one of the hairpins, but we have nothing, have found no trail to follow on our own. Whoever is doing this is verra clever or verra lucky.”
“They say madness can oftimes make one more cunning,” said Bennett. “I am just finding it difficult to believe a woman would have a part in all this. Och, aye, I ken that they can be as cruel and vicious as any mon, but to actually wield the knife? That is what I find so hard to accept.”
“And, yet, it makes a strange kind of sense,” said Harcourt, and shrugged when the others looked at him.
“From what ye tell me, each woman had her beauty utterly destroyed. A woman could understand how much that meant to the women, mayhap e’en hate that beauty they hold. ’Tis the fact that the women’s hair was cut off that makes me inclined to think a woman really is involved. A mon might destroy a Page 42
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woman’s face or body in some mad, jealous rage, but I doubt he would realize how important that hair would be to a woman.”
“Ah, aye, ye may be right,” murmured Simon. “Then again, I believe we can all agree that there is madness behind these murders and who can understand the mind of a mon touched by madness, or a woman’s.”
Tormand only half-listened as Simon and his kinsmen debated all that Morainn had told them. Most of his thoughts were on the woman they had just left and not on her words. He was certain they had shared a dream last night. Such a thing had never happened to him before, but he knew it meant something, was important in a way that left him very uneasy. It implied some bond had been made between him and Morainn Ross and he did not want any bonds.
There was also what had happened when he had touched her hand to worry about. He did not mind being strongly attracted to a woman. If nothing else, it made the lovemaking richer and more heated, more satisfying. But he had felt a strong lusting for a woman before and had never felt such a wave of heat and longing simply by touching the woman’s hand. A large part of him was eager to pursue Morainn, to find out how that fierce heat would feel once he had her naked between the sheets. Another part of him wanted to put the spurs to his horse and ride as far away from Morainn Ross as he could.
“I would appreciate it if ye didnae try to seduce this one.”
Simon’s voice startled Tormand out of his thoughts about getting Morainn into his bed, which he decided was a good thing because he was growing hard and hungry. Tormand was glad to see that his kinsmen were riding ahead of him and Simon and
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