really dislike England, don't you?"
She hadn't been able to keep the amazement out of her voice. The very idea of anyone disliking her land was simply beyond her comprehension. Everyone loved England, even dull-witted Scotsmen who liked to throw trees at one another. Why, England was the Rome of modern times. Its grandeur couldn't be denied.
"I do dislike England most of the time. There are exceptions, though."
"Exceptions?"
He slowly nodded.
"Well? When don't you dislike England, then?"
"When I'm raiding."
"You actually admit to such a sin?" she asked, clearly appalled.
Alec's grin widened. Her blush had intensified until she looked as if the sun had burned her. His wife was so refreshingly honest in all her reactions. A deadly trait in a man, that, giving others advance warning of what he was thinking, yet most agreeable in a woman. Especially his woman.
"Well?"
Alec let out a long sigh. It was a pity, but his wife didn't seem to have any sense of humor. She couldn't tell when he was jesting with her. "Gain your mount. The sun is already setting," he told her. "You may rest when we reach safety."
"Safety?"
"Scotland."
Jamie thought about asking him if he thought safety and Scotland were one and the same, then decided not to bother. She guessed his answer would just irritate her.
She had already learned two very unpleasant things about her husband. One: he didn't like being questioned or contradicted. That was going to be a problem, Jamie knew, for she was determined to question or contradict him whenever she wanted to. She didn't care if he liked it or not. Two: when he was scowling at her, she didn't like him much at all. The second flaw was almost as worrisome as the first. Alec's mood changed like the wind. The most innocent remarks made him scowl.
"Jamie, I'm not getting back on that damn horse again."
Mary pulled on her sister's arm to get her attention. Alec heard the statement, but paid no attention to it. He turned and walked back to his mount. Jamie watched him, thinking to herself that he'd just dismissed her with as much care as one would give a piece of lint.
"That man's rude by half," she muttered.
"Jamie, aren't you listening to me?" Mary demanded. "You're going to have to insist that we rest here for the night."
Jamie's heart went out to her sister. Mary's face was streaked with dirt. She looked as exhausted as Jamie felt. Jamie had a good deal more stamina than her sister did, but she'd been up most of the night before, helping one of the servants with her sick child.
She didn't dare offer Mary any sympathy, knowing that a firm hand was needed now. Mary would start crying if Jamie gave her an ounce of compassion. That thought was quite chilling. Once Mary got started, she was worse than the twins.
"What have you done with your pride?" Jamie demanded. "It's unladylike to use a common word like'damn' when you speak. Only serfs use such crude words, Mary."
The thunder went out of Mary's expression. "How can you lecture me now, for God's sake?" she wailed. "I want to go home. I miss my papa."
"Enough!" Jamie's command was given in a much harsher tone of voice. She patted her sister's shoulder to soften her rebuke, then whispered, "What's done is done. We're married to Scots, and that's that. Don't disgrace us by carrying on. Besides, it's only a little farther to the Highlands," she exaggerated. "Alec has promised me that we'll stop for the night just as soon as we cross the border. Surely you can last a few more minutes, sister. Let your husband see what a courageous woman you are."
Mary nodded. "What if he's too dense to notice my courage?"
"Then I'll be happy to instruct him," Jamie promised.
"Jamie, did you ever, in all your days, think we'd end up in this predicament? We're married to Scots!"
"No, Mary, I never once considered that eventuality."
"God must be very angry
She hadn't been able to keep the amazement out of her voice. The very idea of anyone disliking her land was simply beyond her comprehension. Everyone loved England, even dull-witted Scotsmen who liked to throw trees at one another. Why, England was the Rome of modern times. Its grandeur couldn't be denied.
"I do dislike England most of the time. There are exceptions, though."
"Exceptions?"
He slowly nodded.
"Well? When don't you dislike England, then?"
"When I'm raiding."
"You actually admit to such a sin?" she asked, clearly appalled.
Alec's grin widened. Her blush had intensified until she looked as if the sun had burned her. His wife was so refreshingly honest in all her reactions. A deadly trait in a man, that, giving others advance warning of what he was thinking, yet most agreeable in a woman. Especially his woman.
"Well?"
Alec let out a long sigh. It was a pity, but his wife didn't seem to have any sense of humor. She couldn't tell when he was jesting with her. "Gain your mount. The sun is already setting," he told her. "You may rest when we reach safety."
"Safety?"
"Scotland."
Jamie thought about asking him if he thought safety and Scotland were one and the same, then decided not to bother. She guessed his answer would just irritate her.
She had already learned two very unpleasant things about her husband. One: he didn't like being questioned or contradicted. That was going to be a problem, Jamie knew, for she was determined to question or contradict him whenever she wanted to. She didn't care if he liked it or not. Two: when he was scowling at her, she didn't like him much at all. The second flaw was almost as worrisome as the first. Alec's mood changed like the wind. The most innocent remarks made him scowl.
"Jamie, I'm not getting back on that damn horse again."
Mary pulled on her sister's arm to get her attention. Alec heard the statement, but paid no attention to it. He turned and walked back to his mount. Jamie watched him, thinking to herself that he'd just dismissed her with as much care as one would give a piece of lint.
"That man's rude by half," she muttered.
"Jamie, aren't you listening to me?" Mary demanded. "You're going to have to insist that we rest here for the night."
Jamie's heart went out to her sister. Mary's face was streaked with dirt. She looked as exhausted as Jamie felt. Jamie had a good deal more stamina than her sister did, but she'd been up most of the night before, helping one of the servants with her sick child.
She didn't dare offer Mary any sympathy, knowing that a firm hand was needed now. Mary would start crying if Jamie gave her an ounce of compassion. That thought was quite chilling. Once Mary got started, she was worse than the twins.
"What have you done with your pride?" Jamie demanded. "It's unladylike to use a common word like'damn' when you speak. Only serfs use such crude words, Mary."
The thunder went out of Mary's expression. "How can you lecture me now, for God's sake?" she wailed. "I want to go home. I miss my papa."
"Enough!" Jamie's command was given in a much harsher tone of voice. She patted her sister's shoulder to soften her rebuke, then whispered, "What's done is done. We're married to Scots, and that's that. Don't disgrace us by carrying on. Besides, it's only a little farther to the Highlands," she exaggerated. "Alec has promised me that we'll stop for the night just as soon as we cross the border. Surely you can last a few more minutes, sister. Let your husband see what a courageous woman you are."
Mary nodded. "What if he's too dense to notice my courage?"
"Then I'll be happy to instruct him," Jamie promised.
"Jamie, did you ever, in all your days, think we'd end up in this predicament? We're married to Scots!"
"No, Mary, I never once considered that eventuality."
"God must be very angry
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