Bronwyn was slow to speak. She knew of the closeness between the brothers, and she wasn’t sure how Raine would take to any criticism of his elder brother. But how could she lie?
She took a deep breath and spoke the truth. ?
?Stephen thinks I have no honor or pride. He believes anyone before he believes me. In Scotland he thought everything I did was wrong, and in truth some of it was, but he had no right to treat me as if everything I did was wrong.”
Raine nodded in understanding. It had taken Gavin a while to realize Judith was more than just a pretty body.
But before he could say a word, the door burst open and a tired, dirty Stephen stormed into the room.
“Miles said Bronwyn jumped into an icy lake!” he thundered. “Where is she?” Even as he said the words, he saw her in Raine’s lap. He took two long steps across the room and snatched her from him.
“Damn you!” he bellowed. “I can’t leave you for more than an hour without your getting into trouble.”
“Release me!” she said coldly. He’d been away for days, the first time they’d ever been separated, and now all he did was curse her.
Stephen must have felt some of her thoughts. He set her on the floor before him. “Bronwyn,” he said quietly, touching her cheek.
She gathered the bottom of the wool robe off the floor and walked toward the door. She was one of the few women in the world who could manage to look dignified while barefoot and wearing a robe hanging several inches past her hands.
She put her hand on the door latch and, without turning, said, “Someday you’ll learn that I am neither a child nor an idiot.” She opened the door and left the room.
Stephen took a step toward the closed door, but Raine’s voice stopped him.
“Sit down and let her alone,” Raine said with resignation.
Stephen looked toward the door for a moment longer, then turned and took a chair across from Raine’s. He ran his hand wearily through his dirty hair. “Is she unhurt? Will she be all right?”
“Of course,” Raine answered confidently. “She’s strong and healthy, and from what you say of the Scots she’s lived out-of-doors most of her life.”
Stephen stared at the fire. “I know,” he said heavily.
“What’s eating you?” Raine demanded. “You’re not the Stephen I know.”
“Bronwyn,” he whispered. “She’s going to be the death of me. In Scotland one night she decided to lead her men on a raid against her clan’s enemy. In order to assure herself that I’d be out of the way, she drugged me.”
“She did what?” Raine exploded, realizing the full danger of Bronwyn’s act.
Stephen grimaced. “One of her men found what she’d done and helped wake me. When I found her, she was down the side of a cliff, dangling by a rope about her waist.”
“Good God!” Raine gasped.
“I didn’t know whether to beat her or lock her away to protect her against herself.”
“And which did you do?”
Stephen leaned back in the chair. His voice was full of disgust. “What I always end up doing: I made love to her.”
Raine chuckled deeply. “It seems to me your problem would be if she were selfish and cared only about herself.”
Stephen stood and walked to the fireplace. “She cares too little for herself. Sometimes she makes me ashamed of myself. When it comes to that clan of hers, she does whatever she thinks is best without regard to her own safety.”
“And you worry about her?” Raine asked.
“Damned right! Why can’t she stay at home and have babies and care for them—and me—as a wife should? Why does she have to lead cattle raids, carve her initials on a man’s chest, roll in her plaid and sleep on the ground in perfect comfort? Why can’t she be…be…”
“A simpering little mealy-mouthed wench who’d look at you with adoring eyes and embroider all your shirt collars?” Raine suggested.
Stephen sat down heavily. “I don’t want that, but there has to be some compromise.”