Kara's Gift. Suzanne Barclay
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A private person by nature, Duncan found handling someone else’s goods put a bad taste in his mouth. But they’d stolen from him. Resolved, he lifted out the last item, a tiny casket. Inside were a few feminine bits of frippery, a small silver brooch. A set of bone hair comb. And the other half of the amber, likewise suspended on a chain. Fergus’s wife’s necklet? Was she dead, and that was why the laird no longer wore his?
Duncan dropped the necklace. Unease crawled through his belly, and he knew it wasn’t the whiskey.
“Enough of this sneaking about,” he muttered, replacing each item carefully despite his urgent desire to be free of them. Just because they were a dishonorable pack of thieves was no reason for him to lower his standards. He’d go below, find Fergus and demand the return of his rubies.
Filled with new resolve, and another swig of whiskey, Duncan marched to the door, opened it and stepped into the hall. After the sunlit chamber, it seemed even darker.
“Have you finished pawing through Fergie’s things?” drawled a familiar voice.
Duncan spun toward it, sword up, eyes narrowed.
A shadow moved, stepping into the spill of light from the room behind him. Kara, her chin up, her gaze scathing.
“Why aren’t you out looking for me?”
“Because I knew you’d never left.”
“How?”
“When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I recalled seeing your sword in the room. Only a fool would leave his sword behind, and you do not strike me as a fool. How did you get free?”
“I’m good with knots.” He locked his knees to counter a sudden wave of dizziness. “Clever girl. Now what have you done with my jewels?”
“Jewels?” Her alarmed gaze dropped to his crotch. “I didn’t know you were wounded there.”
“Where? Oh.” Duncan felt the heat crawl up his mostly bare chest. Suddenly he was aware of how close they stood, of the faint scent of heather swirling seductively in the air. “’Tis not proper for you to speak of such things.”
“You’re the one who brought it up.”
The word set off an alarming reaction in the very nether parts they were discussing. Duncan shifted and cleared his throat. “Aye, well, ’tis not what I meant and you know it.”
“I’m a witch, not a mind reader. Now my mother, Guenna, she always knew what a body was thinking. Very disconcerting.”
Duncan blinked. “Stop trying to change the subject. I want my rubies, and I want them—”
“I’ve not a single clue what they are. Rubies,” she added.
“Don’t be daft. Everyone knows what rubies are.”
“Well, I do not.” Her chin was up again, her eyes flashing. “And I’ll wager no one else does, either. We dinna see much of the outside world here.”
“But—”
“Kara, lass, have you found him?” Fergus’s voice echoed hollowly in the stairwell.
“Aye,” Kara called, looking back over her shoulder. “He’s up here—” The word ended with a squeak as Duncan snagged her and dragged her against him, one arm around her waist.
It was a mistake, for the lower swell of her breasts rested on his forearm and those sensuous hips he’d admired pressed into his. He tried to ignore those sweet curves, but his chilled body greedily savored the heat from hers. Before he could weaken, a herd of Gleanedins clattered up the stairs and crowded into the corridor, Fergus in the forefront.
“Stay back or I’ll run her through,” Duncan warned. He raised his sword, but kept it well clear of her slender neck, for his arm felt none too steady.
Fergus’s battered face went purple. “If you cut her—”
“He won’t harm me,” Kara said with absolute calm.
“And what is to stop me?”
“Aye, what?” Fergus asked, backed by a sea of white faces.
“His honor. He’s a Crusader knight, you know,” she said. “Black Roily says they are bound to show kindness and mercy to women and children. He’ll not harm me.”
Angered, Duncan spat, “Why should I show you mercy?”
“Well, aside from your knightly vows, I did save your life.”
Foiled by the shackles of honor. “So you could imprison me and steal from me?” Duncan watched Fergus’s face closely, but could detect no hint of guilt. One of the others, mayhap, but the crowd looked equally baffled.
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