truly wants to marry me? Robbie had mentioned it, but she hadn’t dared hope.
Despite the fact that two armies stood poised, and it seemed probable blood would be spilled, Leanna felt a surge of joy through her fear.
“I think perhaps Ian just informed his noble toadship that he couldn’t possibly let him take you, as you are probably breeding his child.” Angus was so obviously delighted and so openly loathed the baron that even Leanna allowed herself a small, nervous laugh. He pointed. “My lady, look—see how Frankton’s hand strays toward his sword, even though he knows better. Perhaps Ian detailed just how many chances there have been for his seed to take inside you.” Glancing over and seeing her pink cheeks, Angus said contritely, “Forgive me, lass, but Ian has a lusty appetite and his hunger for you is obvious to us all. You also sleep late most mornings and the two of you retire fairly early, so the assumption that he is at you all night is easy to come by.”
It was close enough to the truth that Leanna said nothing despite her embarrassment as she watched the two men. It looked as if the line in front of the baron had split a little, Frankton’s men perhaps realizing that even their cowardly commander might take up the challenge. With Frankton’s foul temper, she began to pray he would snap and lunge at Ian, who was surely ready for such action.
Taking advantage of the fact that his opponent was no longer shielded by a wall of men, Ian urged his horse through the gap, his hand now resting on the hilt of his sword, his dark hair gleaming in the sun. Robbie still sat in front of the McCray clansmen, watching, his weapon drawn. Face-to-face with Frankton, within reach, Ian leaned forward. His lips moved, his voice saying something obviously meant for the baron’s ears only.
Whatever it was, it was amazingly effective. As Leanna watched, Frankton jerked furiously at his sword and attacked with rabid fury, his face contorted with hatred, his first swing narrowly missing Ian’s right shoulder. Stock-still and riveted, she saw the tall laird parry two more murderous blows before he neatly and gracefully turned his horse at the same time he plunged his sword into the baron’s throat. For a second, Frankton seemed more surprised than anything, and then a river of red poured down his shirt and he dropped his weapon, slumping forward.
Ian pulled his sword free and swung his mount around to face where she stood on the steps. He lifted the bloody weapon in a salute, smiling.
Next to her, Angus murmured, “That was well-done, wasn’t it? I wonder what the lad said to make the grasping rodent finally go over the edge.”
Leanna gave a choked laugh. “I have a feeling I don’t want to know.”
Considering the events of the day, he should have been weary, but Ian found his step was light as he climbed the stairs. Robbie was on his way to Newcastle with witnesses willing to testify to both Frankton’s death and his gloating admission that he’d lied about Thomas’s guilt. His uncle should be free in a few days. The English forces too were off McCray land without so much as a scratch to either side, which pleased him. Not terribly loyal to their now dead leader, they had quietly retreated without protest.
Leanna, if he could persuade her to stay, was his. Never having proposed marriage before, he was actually nervous about asking the question, and perhaps even more so over admitting he’d fallen in love with her. Not the kind of torrid, urgent, passionate love that Robbie claimed to feel for her, but something deeper. A need to have her by his side, not only in bed but all the time, a desire to see her smile, to picture her round and heavy with his child . . .
Love . Not just passion, but . . . love.
With a pause at the door of his bedroom, he took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
Arrested in the doorway, he stopped, able only to stare.
She obviously had wished to please him, but she
Despite the fact that two armies stood poised, and it seemed probable blood would be spilled, Leanna felt a surge of joy through her fear.
“I think perhaps Ian just informed his noble toadship that he couldn’t possibly let him take you, as you are probably breeding his child.” Angus was so obviously delighted and so openly loathed the baron that even Leanna allowed herself a small, nervous laugh. He pointed. “My lady, look—see how Frankton’s hand strays toward his sword, even though he knows better. Perhaps Ian detailed just how many chances there have been for his seed to take inside you.” Glancing over and seeing her pink cheeks, Angus said contritely, “Forgive me, lass, but Ian has a lusty appetite and his hunger for you is obvious to us all. You also sleep late most mornings and the two of you retire fairly early, so the assumption that he is at you all night is easy to come by.”
It was close enough to the truth that Leanna said nothing despite her embarrassment as she watched the two men. It looked as if the line in front of the baron had split a little, Frankton’s men perhaps realizing that even their cowardly commander might take up the challenge. With Frankton’s foul temper, she began to pray he would snap and lunge at Ian, who was surely ready for such action.
Taking advantage of the fact that his opponent was no longer shielded by a wall of men, Ian urged his horse through the gap, his hand now resting on the hilt of his sword, his dark hair gleaming in the sun. Robbie still sat in front of the McCray clansmen, watching, his weapon drawn. Face-to-face with Frankton, within reach, Ian leaned forward. His lips moved, his voice saying something obviously meant for the baron’s ears only.
Whatever it was, it was amazingly effective. As Leanna watched, Frankton jerked furiously at his sword and attacked with rabid fury, his face contorted with hatred, his first swing narrowly missing Ian’s right shoulder. Stock-still and riveted, she saw the tall laird parry two more murderous blows before he neatly and gracefully turned his horse at the same time he plunged his sword into the baron’s throat. For a second, Frankton seemed more surprised than anything, and then a river of red poured down his shirt and he dropped his weapon, slumping forward.
Ian pulled his sword free and swung his mount around to face where she stood on the steps. He lifted the bloody weapon in a salute, smiling.
Next to her, Angus murmured, “That was well-done, wasn’t it? I wonder what the lad said to make the grasping rodent finally go over the edge.”
Leanna gave a choked laugh. “I have a feeling I don’t want to know.”
Considering the events of the day, he should have been weary, but Ian found his step was light as he climbed the stairs. Robbie was on his way to Newcastle with witnesses willing to testify to both Frankton’s death and his gloating admission that he’d lied about Thomas’s guilt. His uncle should be free in a few days. The English forces too were off McCray land without so much as a scratch to either side, which pleased him. Not terribly loyal to their now dead leader, they had quietly retreated without protest.
Leanna, if he could persuade her to stay, was his. Never having proposed marriage before, he was actually nervous about asking the question, and perhaps even more so over admitting he’d fallen in love with her. Not the kind of torrid, urgent, passionate love that Robbie claimed to feel for her, but something deeper. A need to have her by his side, not only in bed but all the time, a desire to see her smile, to picture her round and heavy with his child . . .
Love . Not just passion, but . . . love.
With a pause at the door of his bedroom, he took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
Arrested in the doorway, he stopped, able only to stare.
She obviously had wished to please him, but she
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