so.
Kate had reached the limit of her endurance. For a fortnight she had struggled to entice Tavis away from the girl but had failed miserably. The way her former lover treated Storm made Kate grind her teeth in jealous rage. Even when the couple fought there was a casual intimacy between them she had never achieved with Tavis.
"Methinks 'twas too high," sneered Kate, rising to stand next to Storm. "A skinny wench like ye wouldnae bring a ha'penth on the streets."
"Enough!" Tavis bellowed, leaping to his feet to glare at his former mistress.
Wine, frustration and desperation robbed Kate of pride, and she clung to Tavis. "How can ye toss me aside for her? Her folk arenae going to ransom her, 'tis plain. Send her back and return to one who kens how to pleasure ye. She cannae ken the ways o' loving. She's naught but a cold Sassanach bitch. How can ye nay see that I am the woman for ye?"
Storm watched the pair for a moment before standing up to leave. Her insides were knotted with a jealousy that grew with each caress Kate offered Tavis. It mattered little that he did not return them. He neither pushed Kate away nor told her to cease. In fact, Storm thought he looked as if he was thinking about all the woman had said. Storm decided to leave before she lost control, revealing her jealousy and fear to everyone.
"Slinking away?" purred Kate, who also took Tavis's silence as acquiescence.
Turning in her advance toward the door, Storm looked Kate over with ill-concealed scorn. "Nay, I simply do not find groveling an entertainment to my liking."
The soft snickering that reached Kate's ears fueled her rage, and she moved to stand directly in front of Storm. "Ye just cannae stomach being set aside, can ye?"
"I believe I will survive," Storm drawled. "If ye wish to take back a man who has ignored ye for a fortnight, consorting with another right before your eyes, then, please, feel free to be such a fool. Just do not ask me to sit and watch a member of my own sex debase herself so."
With a cry of inarticulate rage, Kate backhanded Storm across the face. Tavis would have interfered, but Iain stopped him, saying quietly that the confrontation was past due. Storm was nearly sent sprawling from the force of the blow. She reacted automatically. With a strength increased by anger suppressed for too many days and a healthy jealousy, she struck back. Bringing a small fist up from her hip in a smooth swing, she dealt a blow to Kate's jaw that sent the larger woman sprawling to the floor and kept her there. A surprised silence fell over the hall.
"She's all yours, Tavis," she said quietly, "though I fear ye will have to rouse her first."
Tavis was too amazed to move after Storm and merely stood staring at the unconscious Kate while Storm strolled out of the hall, Phelan right behind her. It was a long moment before he could rouse himself enough to do anything. Picking up a tankard of ale, he tossed it into Kate's face, watching with no sympathy at all as she spluttered and wakened. He wondered how he had ever managed to bed her and ruefully admitted that lust gave little thought to the character of the vessel in which it spent itself.
"That bitch hit me," wailed Kate as she struggled to her feet unaided.
"Ye struck her first," Tavis pointed out in an icy tone. "I think it best if ye go home on the morrow." He strode out of the hall, oblivious to the curses Katerine screeched after him.
He went to his chambers to wash up. Although he spent every night in Storm's bed, he had not moved himself in with her for reasons he did not fully understand himself. Just as he slipped into his robe, Janet quietly entered his room, shutting the door after her and leaning against it.
With her hair loose and dressed in a diaphanous gown, Janet was beautiful, but Tavis was unimpressed. "What do ye want?" he growled.
"Ye shouldnae be so rude to your stepmother," she purred as she moved toward him. "I thought ye might be ready for a change from the
Kate had reached the limit of her endurance. For a fortnight she had struggled to entice Tavis away from the girl but had failed miserably. The way her former lover treated Storm made Kate grind her teeth in jealous rage. Even when the couple fought there was a casual intimacy between them she had never achieved with Tavis.
"Methinks 'twas too high," sneered Kate, rising to stand next to Storm. "A skinny wench like ye wouldnae bring a ha'penth on the streets."
"Enough!" Tavis bellowed, leaping to his feet to glare at his former mistress.
Wine, frustration and desperation robbed Kate of pride, and she clung to Tavis. "How can ye toss me aside for her? Her folk arenae going to ransom her, 'tis plain. Send her back and return to one who kens how to pleasure ye. She cannae ken the ways o' loving. She's naught but a cold Sassanach bitch. How can ye nay see that I am the woman for ye?"
Storm watched the pair for a moment before standing up to leave. Her insides were knotted with a jealousy that grew with each caress Kate offered Tavis. It mattered little that he did not return them. He neither pushed Kate away nor told her to cease. In fact, Storm thought he looked as if he was thinking about all the woman had said. Storm decided to leave before she lost control, revealing her jealousy and fear to everyone.
"Slinking away?" purred Kate, who also took Tavis's silence as acquiescence.
Turning in her advance toward the door, Storm looked Kate over with ill-concealed scorn. "Nay, I simply do not find groveling an entertainment to my liking."
The soft snickering that reached Kate's ears fueled her rage, and she moved to stand directly in front of Storm. "Ye just cannae stomach being set aside, can ye?"
"I believe I will survive," Storm drawled. "If ye wish to take back a man who has ignored ye for a fortnight, consorting with another right before your eyes, then, please, feel free to be such a fool. Just do not ask me to sit and watch a member of my own sex debase herself so."
With a cry of inarticulate rage, Kate backhanded Storm across the face. Tavis would have interfered, but Iain stopped him, saying quietly that the confrontation was past due. Storm was nearly sent sprawling from the force of the blow. She reacted automatically. With a strength increased by anger suppressed for too many days and a healthy jealousy, she struck back. Bringing a small fist up from her hip in a smooth swing, she dealt a blow to Kate's jaw that sent the larger woman sprawling to the floor and kept her there. A surprised silence fell over the hall.
"She's all yours, Tavis," she said quietly, "though I fear ye will have to rouse her first."
Tavis was too amazed to move after Storm and merely stood staring at the unconscious Kate while Storm strolled out of the hall, Phelan right behind her. It was a long moment before he could rouse himself enough to do anything. Picking up a tankard of ale, he tossed it into Kate's face, watching with no sympathy at all as she spluttered and wakened. He wondered how he had ever managed to bed her and ruefully admitted that lust gave little thought to the character of the vessel in which it spent itself.
"That bitch hit me," wailed Kate as she struggled to her feet unaided.
"Ye struck her first," Tavis pointed out in an icy tone. "I think it best if ye go home on the morrow." He strode out of the hall, oblivious to the curses Katerine screeched after him.
He went to his chambers to wash up. Although he spent every night in Storm's bed, he had not moved himself in with her for reasons he did not fully understand himself. Just as he slipped into his robe, Janet quietly entered his room, shutting the door after her and leaning against it.
With her hair loose and dressed in a diaphanous gown, Janet was beautiful, but Tavis was unimpressed. "What do ye want?" he growled.
"Ye shouldnae be so rude to your stepmother," she purred as she moved toward him. "I thought ye might be ready for a change from the
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