Read Online Highland Flame (Highland Brides) by Lois Greiman - Free Book Online Page B

surely misunderstand me. I dunna mean ta get by ye. I only mean ta have me meal and a blanket. Bullock here took exception to those requests."
    "Ye filthy bastard!" croaked Bullock. His thick neck was bent sharply backward. "Kill me then and have done with it. Just as ye did with Simon."
    Roderic remained very still, considering every word. "Simon?" he asked softly.
    "Gawd!" Bullock growled, breathing noisily and pressing the hard crown of his head against Roderic's chest. "I should have skewered ye ta the wall."
    "Who is Simon?"
    "Dunna play me for the fool," gasped Bullock, enraged. "Ye are a filthy—"
    But before he could finish his insult, Roderic's patience had fled. Tightening his neck-hold with a snarl, he lifted his gaze to the other warrior's. "Gawd's wrath! Who is this Simon?"
    William glanced at Bullock's reddened face before hurrying his gaze to Roderic's. "He was the herald Lady Flame sent to ask for an audience with yer brother."
    Roderic searched William's face for some sign that he lied. There was none. "And?"
    "And his horse came back with naught but Simon's head and a note from yer brother, the laird."
    Roderic ground his teeth. Beneath his arm, Bullock struggled one last time and went lax. "Gawd's wrath!" he swore and let the body slip to the floor. "Take him out of here!" he yelled, nodding to the limp man and dropping the spear beside him. "And bring me that damned blanket!''
    Roderic's evening meal arrived with his freshly laundered shirt and the blanket he had requested. Flame came shortly after that. Her expression was somber and her stance stiff. "'Twas kind of ye to point out the fact that I should keep two guards at your door at all times," she said.
    Her words fell into the silence like a flat joke. Nevertheless, Roderic grinned. "Glad I am ye appreciated me efforts."
    "And I'm pleased that ye were not foolish enough to try to escape entirely. I would, after all, hate to inform your brother of your death."
    Roderic snorted. "Dunna be ridiculous. Bullock had fallen like a great stone. If I had wanted ta escape all I would have had to do was..." He stopped suddenly and drew a deep breath. "I willna let ye bait me anger, lass." Rising from his chair, he paced the room once, then stopped not far from her. "Why did ye na tell me of Simon?"
    "Why should I tell ye what ye already know, Forbes?"
    Why could she not be normal, he wondered. Normal women did not make him angry, and he didn't like to get angry. He had learned as a child that when anger took control, people died. His father had been a rash man—and long dead.
    "Let us assume for just a wee bit that I ken nothing of yer losses," he said.
    Flame opened her mouth to refuse his request, but he raised a hand, palm outward to stop her.
    “If I had cut off Bullock's breath just a wee bit longer he would be dead. It could be said, lass, that ye owe me for sparing yer men's lives." He held her with his eyes, reading her emotions and watching her expressions. "When did ye send yer messenger ta me brother?"
    She was silent for a few moments but finally answered. "'Twas five days since. 'Twas Nevin's idea. And for once, he and Troy agreed. Most of the men wished to make a raid instead of a peace parley." She smiled grimly. "But I thought surely it was for the best to make an attempt at peace while I could. Simon set out in the bright light of day, carrying no weapons."
    Her back was as straight and stiff as Bullock's spear. "His horse came home with a missive from your brother. Oh, and strapped to the steed's saddle was Simon's—"
    "I have heard the rest of the tale," Roderic interrupted, turning abruptly away.
    "Ye have heard it?" she asked grimly. "Or ye have caused it?"
    He pivoted about. "Ye ken little of men if ye think that of me, lady."
    "Then I know little of men," she vowed and strode from the room.
     
    Roderic lay atop his lumpy pallet and contemplated the water stains on the lead ceiling above him. Water stains meant there was a good chance