CHAPTER FIVE
Sully topped the stairs just as Justine came from her sister’s room, quietly closing the door behind her. She looked up and saw Sully coming close, and their eyes met. Justine could see his face etched with concern and she felt a tug of jealousy.
But it was a familiar feeling, especially where her sister was concerned. That was because Justine had loved Sully since she had been very young and the years had only served to deepen and enrich it. Justine was not foolish, nor was she blind. She knew Sully had eyes only for her sister and, perhaps, that had driven Justine’s attention to the magical arts – it was a way to ease her pain and occupy her mind, to forget about the man she could never have.
The man whose heart belonged to another.
“Is she asleep?” Sully asked her.
Justine nodded. “Aye, I gave her something to help her sleep,” she replied softly. “What on earth made her so angry? I have never seen her so agitated.”
He ignored her question. “Something to help her sleep?” he repeated suspiciously. “What did you give her?”
“Poppy,” Justine told him, hurt by the tone of his question. Didn’t he trust her? “I made a sleeping potion from one of Dewey’s powerful medicine books. It promises to promote a deep and peaceful sleep. To the poppy you must add a bit of hemlock and.…”
“Hemlock?” he said with shock. “But that is poison.”
“Not if given in small doses. But I gave her a little more because she was so restless.”
Sully shoved past her. “Mother of God,” he hissed. “Are you trying to kill her?”
He threw open the door and rushed to the bed where Josephine lay. It was dark in the room, the fire burning low in the hearth. He looked down upon Josephine, noticing she was still in the garnet wool dress. But she was very pale and her breathing was labored. Sully dropped to his knees, grasping the woman by the shoulders.
“Josephine?” he whispered urgently. “Josephine, awaken!”
“Sully?” Justine asked fearfully, standing behind him. “What are you doing?”
He ignored her, trying to rouse Josephine. “Josephine?” he said. Then he hissed, “Joey? Wake up!”
Josephine didn’t stir. Sully lifted up an eyelid and saw that her eyes were rolled up to the top of her head. His heart jumped into his throat with nothing short of panic. He turned to Justine.
“Go get Dewey,” he commanded, trying hard to maintain his control.
“But…!” Justine started to protest.
“Go!” he roared and Justine visibly jumped. Quickly, his eyes sought out Ola, standing quietly in the doorway of the alcove where she slept. “You, Ola – go with her. Run!”
The women rushed out without hesitation and Sully cradled Josephine’s neck on his right forearm. He was in a fear-stricken haze as he looked at the woman he loved so much. Oh, God in heaven… hemlock! What in the hell was Justine thinking? Curse that little novice witch! His left hand came up and grasped Josephine’s limp left one. He simply sat there and held her; he didn’t know what else to do.
Sully never felt so helpless. Grief and anxiety tore at his gut and he could feel sweat starting to bead on his forehead. If she died… if she died…. what would he do? His head began to spin with the thought, but he shook it off. He couldn’t think about that; not now. He looked back down at her pale, unconscious face and felt his throat constrict.
One thing was certain… Justine would answer for it.
*
Andrew was in the outer bailey with Thane, beneath a blanket of stars as they walked towards the main gates, when they happened to overhear one of the Torridon knights. Lady Josephine was dying and he was frantically looking for someone named Dewey. Andrew came to a halt, looking at the knight who had been wandering the outer ward anxiously. It was John, the youngest knight of Torridon, and his youthful face was on the brink of panic. Instead of heading out of the ward as he’d planned, Andrew made his way to the young knight.
“You, there,” Andrew said, catching John’s attention. “What is this nonsense about Lady Josephine dying?”
John’s wide blue eyes bespoke of his terror. “Her sister says she was poisoned,” he gasped. “I must find Dewey!”
“Poisoned? By whom?”
The young man shook his head vigorously. “I do not know,” he said. “Lady Justine is in the inner bailey with some other women. She will tell you more.”
With that, he was gone. Andrew turned a perplexed face to Thane, who shrugged at his commander.
“Let us go find this Lady Justine,” Andrew said. “I wonder if they think I poisoned her.”
Thane shook his head as they started towards the inner bailey. “Lord knows, you had enough reason to.”
Andrew grinned. “It was a love tap,” he said. “Baby’s breath is more forceful than her fist.”
“Love tap?” Thane looked at him. “I saw no affection in that gesture. Mayhap you are wishing there was, eh?”
Andrew snorted. “I think we would likely kill each other with our love taps,” he said. “But I must confess that she is the most beautiful woman I have ever had the fortune to look upon.”
He sobered suddenly and he did not know why. Perhaps it was the thought of that feisty, beautiful woman now evidently at death’s door. But Thane didn’t notice Andrew’s sudden change in demeanor; he was in the process of heartily agreeing with Andrew’s last statement.
“She is that, my lord,” he said. “I could not believe my eyes when I saw her. Who in the hell would want to poison such a creature?”
Andrew shook his head as they entered the inner bailey. For the middle of the night, there was quite a bit of traffic. Villeins and servants seemed to be scurrying about in a frenzy. The only people who were stationary were a few women standing atop the front steps leading into the darkened keep. Their faces were agitated and worried. Andrew could hear one woman crying. He assumed Justine was in the little group, and he approached purposefully.
“I am seeking Lady Justine,” he said.
The women all turned to him, suspiciously. Only one spoke, eyeing him hesitantly. “I am Justine,” she said. “Who are you?”
“Andrew d’Vant,” he said, as he rested a massive boot on the bottom step. “My army is in camp around Torridon. Tell me – what ails your sister?”
Whispers rippled through the women. The Red Fury! Justine was momentarily distracted by the flutter, but she put up a hand to silence them as she took a couple of steps down to look Andrew in the eye.
“My sister spoke of you,” she said. “You are the man they call The Red Fury?”
“Aye.”
Justine eyed him a moment before continuing. “She was quite angry after her meeting with you.”
Andrew remembered the smack on his jaw; the spot was sore. “So it seems.”
Justin glanced at the women behind her, nervously, before returning her attention to Andrew. “I gave her a potion with poppy and hemlock to make her sleep after her meeting with you,” she said. “It was meant to calm her nerves, but I poisoned her instead.”
Andrew looked at her strangely. “Hemlock?” he echoed. “Why on earth did you give her hemlock?”
Justine clenched her jaw. She hated admitting her failures and this one could cost her dearly. “Because I… I read of a potion in one of Dewey’s books and made a sleeping drink for her,” she said. “I know hemlock is deadly, although the book said that mixed in tiny quantities it was very beneficial to the mind. I was trying to help her.”
Andrew listened to her explanation and he believed her. She didn’t seem the malicious type, at least from what he could tell. Silly, aye, but not malicious. She certainly wouldn’t be confessing that she’d poisoned her sister if her intention had been malicious. However, if what she said was true, then he knew that Josephine needed help. Every moment that passed was another moment that the hemlock could be doing serious damage.
“Is your healer with her?” he asked.
Justine shook her head. “Nay,” she replied. “We are searching for him. Sully is upstairs with her now.”
Andrew turned to Thane. “Find Oletha,” he said. “Bring her to Lady Josephine’s chamber. And be quick about it.”
Thane barreled off across the inner bailey as he headed for the soldiers’ camp and Andrew turned back to Justine. She was looking at him with a mixture of fear and curiosity, and he found himself wanting to ease her apprehension. She looked so young and confused. He smiled a little, treating Justine to a glimpse of the big dimple in his cheek.
“All will be well,” he said quietly. “I have sent for my healer. She will know what to do.”
“That is kind of you.”
“Will you take me to your sister?”
“I will if… if you promise not to anger her again.”
Andrew fought off a grin. “I swear it.”
Justine was in motion before he finished his sentence, calling for Ola to follow. The plump little maid dashed after them, following the enormous mercenary into the keep. They entered the cool, quiet foyer and traveled up the narrow stone stairs, built into the thickness of the wall. Josephine’s chamber was on the third level and Justine opened the door quietly and entered, with Andrew following closely. Ola slipped in behind them and stood silently by the open door.
Above all else, Andrew was immediately struck by the soft femininity of the room. Rushes carpeted the floor and two massive tapestries graced opposite walls. Above the huge hearth hung a flowered piece of petit poi, an elaborate scene with animals and a banquet of colorfully-clad women. As he approached the elaborately-carved bed, he saw that she had hung a massive bouquet of dried heather on the wall and it was gaily tied with colorful ribbon. He smiled inwardly at the significance. In Scotland, that meant good luck.
As Andrew inspected the room curiously, there were eyes on him. Sully rose stiffly from his kneeling position beside her bed, his eyes on the big mercenary. He didn’t like the idea of the man in Josephine’s chamber but, more than that, he noted that Justine was without the little physic that everyone was searching for. He looked pointedly at the woman.
“Where is Dewey?” he asked.
Justine could hear the stress in his voice. “The castle is in an uproar searching for him,” she said. Then, she looked at Andrew. “Sir Andrew has sent for his own healer in the meantime.”
Sully’s gaze moved to Andrew. He didn’t want anyone but Dewey touching her, especially with her life hanging in the balance. But he didn’t want to offend the mercenary; at least not now. He had enough to worry about and he needed Andrew handling Torridon’s defenses while he was preoccupied with Josephine. Still… he was grateful. Any healer was better than no healer. Therefore, he nodded curtly at Andrew.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
Andrew’s gaze lingered on the man, noticing the nearly hostile manner in which Sully was regarding him. Why? He wondered. Then, he looked down at Josephine; she was as white as the sheet she laid upon. Her luscious hair was stuck to her clammy skin and, if her chest hadn’t risen every so often, one would have believed her to be dead. The deep red dress in which she was clad made an even greater contrast against her white skin. He felt a strange sense of sorrow as he looked at her.
Before he could speak, however, the chamber doorway was filled with Torridon knights. Quig, Severn, and Albert were breathing heavily as they stumbled into the chamber, their focus on Sully.
“My Lord,” red-haired Albert spoke, breathing as if he’d just run up several flights of steps. “We have sighted a Dalmellington scout party not far from here. There appears to be several men on horseback.”
Sully’s nostrils flared. “In the middle of the night?”
Albert shrugged. “It is possible they saw the approach of the mercenary army and followed,” he said. “You know they are never far from us. They have spies everywhere.”
That was very true, and Sully began to realize that he may have another serious problem on his hands. “Damnation,” he hissed, passing Andrew as he made his way to his men. “I want twenty-five men-at-arms saddled in the outer bailey in five minutes. We’ve got to stop those bastards before they return to Burnton Castle with what they have seen.”
The knights were gone in a flash. Sully’s jaw muscles flexed as he turned to the bed where Josephine laid. God in heaven, he couldn’t leave her now. He didn’t want to chase down Dalmellington spies; he wanted to be here with Josephine. But he had little choice. He had to be present when they engaged the Dalmellington spies. His duty was to protect Torridon. Josephine would live or die whether or not he was at her side.
Much as Sully had studied Andrew when the man had first entered the chamber, now it was Andrew’s turn to study Sully and his reaction to a night patrol. He saw the turmoil in the man’s eyes and that was his first clue that all may not be business-related when it came to Sully Montgomery and his lovely mistress.
“Would you prefer I go?” he asked.
Sully looked at him, sharply, as if suspicious of the question. Was it magnanimous? Or was he suggesting he could do the job better than Sully could?
“Nay,” Sully said. “I will go. I know their tricks and where they hide. You would not know this.”
Andrew simply nodded. “Then I shall remain here with your mistress,” he said. “I will not leave her.”
Sully looked at him a moment before giving a reluctant sigh. He did not have any choice; his duty called. But, God in heaven, he didn’t want to leave Josephine’s fate with a man he didn’t even know.
“Very well,” he agreed. “Stay with her. I shall return as soon as I can.”
Sully blew past Justine as if she were a ghost, and her eyes turned to follow him longingly as he left the room. She knew this was all her fault, and she knew that Sully blamed her. If any chance had ever existed to win Sully’s heart, she was positive that it was gone now.
She’d poisoned the woman he loved.
Justine had never felt such despair as she turned to look back at her sister. In the process, her eyes fell on Andrew. He was watching her like a hawk and, simply by his expression, she knew that he had discovered her secret. Her love for Sully. Justine thought she might die from embarrassment from Andrew’s knowing gaze, but he turned away quickly and focused his attention on Josephine.
Justine was very relieved.
There were strange forces at work at Torridon; Andrew had quickly come to that conclusion. Just in the past few minutes, he’d witnessed Sully’s longing expression for Josephine and Justine’s longing expression for Sully. It all seemed rather foolish to him, but none of that mattered. As long as they paid him what they promised him, he didn’t care what these people did.
He had a job to do.
Now, his focus was on Josephine. She hadn’t moved a muscle since he’d entered the chamber. With Sully gone and the other two women in the room standing back in the shadows, he had his first opportunity to get a good look at the lovely Mistress of Torridon. For a few stolen moments, he looked his fill of her.
If God could have asked Andrew his idea of a perfect woman, he would have described Josephine down to her ladylike ears. Her face was absolutely perfect, and he felt an impulsive urge to run his fingers through the silken tresses and inhale their scent. His eyes drifted to the creamy white swells that disappeared beneath the tight silk bodice. Even lying on her back as she was, her breasts were pleasingly large. Beyond the narrow waist, he could tell no more, but he somehow knew the rest of her was just as perfect. He decided that should she survive this bout, he would not forgive her for hitting him. He would, however, allow her to make it up to him.
People were entering her room now, distracting him from thoughts of Josephine. He turned to see Thane entering, his sword rattling against his side. Behind him, almost hidden within the folds of a huge gray cape, was a small figure. Andrew pointed swiftly to Josephine on the bed.
“She has been poisoned,” he said to the figure. “See what you can do for her.”
The shape moved quickly and knelt beside the bed, with the cape billowing to form a wide circle. A fragile white hand shot out from the cape and checked the breathing, the heart, and the eyes.
“How long since the poison has been ingested?” the voice said; it was tiny and fairy-like.
Andrew looked to Justine, who stepped from the shadows, her eyes wide. “About a half of an hour,” she said, concerned.
The figure pulled the hood from its head as it turned to Justine. A tiny woman with a mass of wild white hair fixed her beady eyes on Justine, and the girl felt a bolt of something shoot through her. Whether it was from the shock of seeing a dwarf or from the actual power emitting from this woman, she didn’t know. But she was suddenly afraid and confused.
“What did you give her, darling?” the tiny woman asked gently.
Justine’s mouth popped open in surprise. How did she know? Then it dawned on her. The other man, the blond giant, had been present when Justine confessed to Andrew. He must have told her. Yet, even that knowledge did not erase the eerie feeling she had, like the tiny woman could read her mind.
“Poppy in straight wine, laced with hemlock,” Justine replied. “I only meant to help her sleep.”
The woman did not seem the least bit upset by the knowledge. She calmly removed her gloves and cape as Justine watched with growing anxiety. Why was she not doing something? She wondered. Why is she being so calm? Justine glanced at Andrew anxiously, who also appeared to be calmly watching the woman as she settled herself down on the bed, all quite calmly moving about.
Justine could not believe her eyes. Where was the sense of urgency? Had they all gone mad?
“You did not give her hemlock,” the woman finally announced.
Justine’s eyes widened. “Of course I did!”
Andrew interrupted, his voice full of concern. “How do you know, Oletha?”
“Simple,” Oletha said as she stood up from the bed and moved to pull a small stool over to the bed. “If she were given even the slightest amount of hemlock, with her size, it would have killed her within minutes. Hemlock is an extremely fast-acting toxin.”
Andrew glanced at the pale woman on the bed. “Are you certain?”
Oletha nodded as she sat on the stool. “Of course,” she said. Then, she looked at Justine. “Now, we must determine exactly what you did give her. Can you show me what you used?”
Justine nodded unsteadily. She was overwhelmed at this revelation. Was she really so stupid and incompetent as to not know what hemlock was when she saw it? Dewey had it in a jar, clearly labeled. When she drew it forth, she believed it to be hemlock. She’d seen it a thousand times.
But if it wasn’t hemlock, what was it?
Justine turned on her heel and ran from the chamber, her head swimming. She just couldn’t have been that idiotic! She was a wise sorceress. She knew about plants and herbs! Didn’t she?
Well… didn’t she?
Back inside the room, Oletha had her fingers on Josephine’s wrist as she felt the lady’s pulse. It was strong and steady. Oletha smiled as she pulled her hand away. Andrew was standing above her, hovering somewhat anxiously and the old woman looked up at him.
“Not to worry, Sir Andrew,” she squeaked. “Lady Josephine is merely in a deep sleep. I suspect she will rise with the rest of us come the morning.”
Andrew cocked an eyebrow. “But she will not awaken,” he said. “Would poppy make her sleep so?”
Oletha nodded, lifting one of Josephine’s lids to check her eyes. “Some people are very sensitive to certain herbs and potions,” she said. “Perhaps lovely Lady Josephine is one of them. However, she will have a terrific headache on the morrow and will not be much company to be around, I will venture.”
“But what about the sweat?” Andrew wanted to know. “She is drenched in it.”
Oletha cocked an eyebrow. “You would be, too, if you were swathed in heavy silk in this warm room,” she said. “Where is her maid? We will remove this clothing.”
Andrew stepped back as Ola rushed forward, very nervously, and began assisting Oletha. As he watched, he began to wonder why he felt such a tremendous sense of relief at Oletha’s words. Crossing his arms, he looked over at Thane, and Thane lifted his brows as if to say “well… that is the end of it.”
And it was, if Oletha said so. Andrew, in truth, was reluctant to leave Lady Josephine because he told Sully that he would not. There was a sense of responsibility there, in keeping his word, but there was also a strange surge of elation at the thought that he didn’t have to leave her. But why? He had no idea why he should be happy to remain.
But then, he knew – he simply did not want to leave a beautiful girl’s boudoir.
He was only a man, after all.
Several minutes passed while Ola and Oletha stripped Josephine down to her thin linen shift. When they were removing the dress, Andrew cleared his throat loudly in Thane’s direction, and the two of them discreetly moved to the other side of the chamber, to the door, to allow for a little privacy. As their backs were turned, Andrew leaned his head towards Thane.
“Why is a Torridon knight not up here guarding their mistress from us?” he asked. “I find that peculiar that he would not post a Torridon guard here.”
Thane glanced sideways at him. “Sir Sully took nine knights with him,” he said. “The other four are at the main gate. It would appear, my Lord Andrew, that they are going to trust us to honor our knightly vows.”
“I never took any,” Andrew stated flatly. “But they need not know that. I will honor my word just the same.”
Thane eyed his master; there had been something in his expression as he looked at the lady of Torridon. Something of interest, if Thane didn’t know better. But he said nothing. Instead, he turned his attention back to the lady on the bed as two women worked over her. In truth, he didn’t blame Andrew in the least for showing the slightest interest towards Lady Josephine.
He just might have some interest himself.
“Sir Andrew,” Oletha called out, breaking the men from their thoughts. “We need your help, milord.”
Andrew moved to where the women stood and Oletha looked up at him. “Lift Lady Josephine so that we may turn back the bed, please,” she instructed briskly. “It will make it much easier for us to make her comfortable.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Andrew reached down and gently scooped up the limp form. She was so soft and warm; hell, his saddle weighed more than she did. He found himself cradling her gently against his chest as Oletha and Ola fussed with the coverlets. He could smell Josephine’s hair; it smelled like flowers. Roses, he thought, a fragrance of delight, like the joy of a warm spring day. And her face; it was upturned to him and her lips parted softly in sleep. Inviting, full lips. He wondered what it would be like to taste them.
The temptation was almost too much to bear. He had to put her down before he did something foolish.
“Are you finished yet?” he snapped impatiently. How many women did it take to prepare one bed, anyway? “I cannot stand here all night.”
Under him, the women worked swiftly, but there was evidently a need for clean linen, so they bolted from the room and left him standing there with the temptation still in his arms. They even pulled Thane with them, and Andrew was left alone with the unconscious lady. It would have been an enticing situation had it not been such a serious one. Josephine was quite a lovely creature, though, and he found himself staring at her, if only for a moment. But that was the last peaceful moment between them as a fist he was most familiar with came flying up at him again, this time catching him in the throat.
After that, the fight was on.
*
Josephine heard a voice in her warm, dark world.
It was a man’s voice; deep, rich, and melodic. She tried to shut it out and ignore it, but it seemed to reach forward and grab her, pulling her into the light. She couldn’t resist the soothing tones. They caressed her sensually, gently coaxing her from the haven of sleep. Unable to fight the voice any longer, she followed it willingly.
Then, she awoke in someone’s arms. Her left cheek was pressed against something very warm and firm and, upon opening her eyes, she realized it was a chest. A man’s chest. Looking up, she saw the face of a man she didn’t recognize, sending panic into her heart. But after a terror-filled second, she realized it was the mercenary leader.
Andrew d’Vant was holding her.
God’s Toes! What was she doing lying cradled in his arms? The last thing Josephine remembered was drinking a cup of wine Justine gave her and laying upon her bed. Now, she found herself in Andrew d’Vant’s arms. Surely, he must have abducted her from Torridon and was planning some sort of horrible fate for her. What else could it be?
Well, the bastard wasn’t going to take her without a fight!
In his arms, Andrew felt Josephine twitch but he had no time or opportunity to defend himself as a balled fist came swinging up and caught him squarely on the throat. She dropped from his arms as he staggered back, coughing and sputtering, clutching his neck with one hand.
Josephine missed the bed entirely and landed on the floor, scrambling away from him as fast as she could. Then, she leapt onto her bed in a panic, her hand shooting under her pillow in search of her bejeweled dagger.
Terror was causing her breaths to come in short gasps, and her hair hung about her wildly in her struggle. She was positive that any second Andrew was going to jump on her and try to squeeze the life from her. After a hysteria-filled moment, her hand closed over the hilt of the blade, and she swiftly drew it forth.
As Andrew struggled with the blow to his throat, he saw Josephine struggle onto her bed and thrust her hand beneath the pillow, and he guessed what she was searching for. Most fine women slept armed. It was simply the way of things, and he suspected Lady Josephine was no different. Still rubbing his throat, he staggered over to the bed just as Josephine drew forth a rather large dagger with a nasty-looking blade. As she brought it up, he grabbed her right hand and flipped her easily onto her back, pinning her down with his body weight while one hand grasped both wrists and deliberately removed the dagger with his other hand.
The dagger ended up on the floor, several feet away.
“Now,” Andrew said with an exhale. “Please tell me what this display was all about?”
Josephine was still very groggy. As he watched, frightened tears welled in her eyes and started to course down her temples.
“What are you doing in my room?” she demanded.
“Believe me, my lady, it was not by choice,” he assured her coolly. “I was summoned here by Sir Sully. It seems your sister gave you a sleeping potion that she claimed contained hemlock and no one could rouse you.”
That brought Josephine’s struggles to a halt. Her eyes widened. “I do not believe you,” she said flatly. “Justine would never do that. She knows the properties of hemlock.”
“That may be, but it was apparently impossible to awaken you.” He looked at her curiously. “What finally roused you?”
Josephine blinked, trying to process his question in her foggy mind. “I do not know,” she replied. “I… I heard a voice. A man’s voice. That’s all I remember, then I awoke in your arms. Why were you holding me so?”
She didn’t seem so apt to fight him now and Andrew released her, pushing himself off of her. Josephine watched him for a moment as he moved away from the bed before propping herself up on her elbows, still watching him intently. She assumed that if he was going to attack her, he would have done so by now. Instead, he was eyeing her with some amusement.
“I was not holding you for my pleasure,” he said. “The women were preparing to change the linen on your bed, though why they picked this moment, I do not know. They asked me to lift you from the bed and that was exactly what I was doing.”
“What women?”
“Your sister and my healer.”
She looked around the room but there were no women to be found. In fact, somehow, his casual statement disappointed her and she had no idea why. His attitude was very detached, as if he were performing a service for any village wench. It didn’t seem to matter to him that he had been intimately touching the Lady of Torridon.
Wasn’t she worth holding?
She was only being foolish now. Idiotic, even. Whatever Justine gave her was clearly still affecting her thought processes. Glancing to the chair beside her bed, she spied her red silk robe and modestly snatched it up as Andrew pretended to busy himself by pulling tight the leather gloves on his big hands.
Josephine rose quickly and put the robe on, tying it lightly about her waist. When Andrew turned around at the appropriate moment, having been fully aware of what she was doing, a wave of pleasure rolled through him at the sight of her. God, the woman was all shades of lovely, even when she wasn’t feeling particularly well. But he made sure she was unaware of what was going through his head; his expression was completely neutral.
“Well,” he said finally. “It would seem that I am no longer needed here now that you are clearly no longer in danger. I shall bid you a good evening.”
As he headed for the door, she followed him with her eyes. “You were never needed in the first place,” she said coolly. “I am not paying you five thousand marks to spend time in my chamber. Where you are needed is on the walls of Torridon, protecting my castle.”
He stopped and turned, looking her over with haughty amusement. God’s Bones, the woman was as changeable as a chameleon. As he opened his mouth to reply, Justine rushed into the room and almost ran into him in the process. But when her gaze fell on her conscious sister, her eyes widened in surprise.
“Josephine!” she gasped. “You are awake! Praise God!”
Josephine’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean ‘praise God’?” she asked. “Why is it so amazing that I am awake?”
Justine took a couple of steps towards her, wringing her hands. “Because I gave you a sleeping potion with what I thought was hemlock in it, and…”
Josephine flew at her, outraged. “Hemlock?” she gasped. “I knew you were angry with me for not listening to your cards, but to actually try and kill me?”
Justine was flabbergasted. “Kill you?” she repeated. “Never! I merely laced your wine with a little too much…”
Josephine cut her off. “Justine, you know nothing of the powers you so freely profess to be well-versed in,” she snarled. “How dare you try to experiment on me with your feigned-witch powers? Never again feed me your boiled weeds!”
“Boiled weeds?” Justine choked, forgetting the fear she had experienced when she thought she had killed her sister. “I know the powers of herbs and potions, and they are anything but boiled weeds. You should take heed of who you are speaking to, Josephine.”
“Nay, you should take heed!”
“You are not nearly as grand as you think you are!”
“And you are a fool!”
“And you are a reeky harlot! I really should have poisoned you!”
That was all it took for Josephine to fly at her sister, knocking over her tapestry loom as the two girls fell together with grunts and cries. After that, the slaps began to fly.
Andrew knew he was forgotten in that singular act. He was amazed to see the two of them writhing on the ground, apparently very intent on bruising each other. But in that realization, a smile came to his lips. It was actually quite funny. He contemplated, for a split second, as to whether or not to intervene, but he quickly decided he should. Both girls were not holding back as they punched each other with hard-clenched fists and he feared someone might truly get hurt.
Ah, what a shame, he thought as he took the steps necessary to reach the squabble. He did so enjoy watching women fight.
It was great entertainment.
“Ladies,” he admonished sternly. “Cease this instant.”
Josephine was on top of the pile, and he reached down effortlessly to pull her off by the collar of her robe. She struggled and twisted, still shrieking obscenities at her sister as he held her far enough away that he was able to pull Justine up by her sleeve.
But they were still yelling at each other and he found it took every ounce of his willpower to keep from laughing. Instead, he informed Justine it might be a wise choice for her to leave and was thoroughly surprised when both women turned on him like wild dogs, in essence telling him to mind his own business.
Andrew grimaced in confusion, praying that Thane and the women would return soon. He wasn’t sure how he would deal with the two of them physically turning on him. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt them. But, God’s Bones, he could not think with all of the screaming going on.
It was no longer the humorous situation he had been enjoying.
Swiftly, he pulled Josephine against him and clamped a gloved hand over her mouth. A half-second later, Justine was in the same vise-like grip; silent but breathing heavily through his splayed fingers. Andrew sighed heavily.
“Now,” he said quietly. “That is much better. You two sound more like a couple of she-dogs fighting over a bit of meat rather than the mistresses of Torridon.”
Josephine uttered a sound and put her hands up against his side, but he only gripped her tighter to silence her.
“Now,” he continued, “I believe the best thing for both of you is to retire to your respective chambers and prepare to deal with this calmly come the morning. Lady Justine, if I release you, you will promise to leave this room and not fight any longer. Agreed?”
Justine rolled her eyes but she didn’t try to nod or even shake her head, and Andrew was momentarily unsure as to how to proceed. She just stood there, stubbornly, and Andrew began to feel foolish. He was a man who handled a thousand men with ease, yet now he was befuddled by two small women. This was uncertain territory for him, not something he ran into every day. But he had to show that he was in command here or he was certain these women would run all over him. He knew for a fact that Lady Josephine would. But he had to be honest with himself – he was afraid that if he released one or both of them, the fight would start up again.
But he couldn’t show that concern. He had to trust that the ladies would at least be sensible and was preparing to release Justine when Thane and the two women came back into the chamber.
“Thane,” Andrew said with relief. “Attend me.”
Thane was at his side instantly, his face a mirror of confusion. “Lady Josephine has awoken?” he asked with surprise, but it was more than that. He was looking at Andrew with Justine and Josephine clutched in each arm, his hands over their mouths. This wasn’t how he had left them. “What has happened?”
Andrew gave him a lopsided smile. “Just a little sibling rivalry,” he said. “Please escort Lady Justine back to her room and see that she stays there.”
Andrew removed his hand from Justine’s mouth and Thane took firm hold of the girl’s arm as he led her from the room. Then, with the younger sister safely out, he turned to Oletha and Ola.
“Out,” he said quietly.
The women fled. When the door shut softly behind them, he released Josephine.
Rubbing her face where he’d clamped a hand over her mouth, Josephine stepped away from Andrew, her expression wary. He saw her expression but it had no impact; he crossed his massive arms over his chest and set his jaw, looking disapprovingly at her. Still, Josephine was uncomfortable under his gaze. Uncomfortable… but strangely intrigued.
“You should not be in here with me, alone,” she said after a moment. “Please leave.”
He suddenly grinned and Josephine’s heart jumped at the sight of the big smile across his face. Straight, white teeth and a large dimple in his left cheek made him unexpectedly appealing.
Handsome, even.
“I am pleased that you find compromising my reputation so humorous,” she said defensively.
Andrew sobered, knowing she was serious about the two of them alone in her room with the door closed. To compromise her was not his intention, at least not at this point.
But that lovely woman had possibilities.
“Forgive me, Lady Josephine,” he said apologetically. “I was not laughing at the possibility of damaging your reputation. I was laughing at your idea that I would wait until now to attempt to ravish you, considering how long I have actually been alone with you. If I was going to do it, I should have done it while you slept. To do it now would guarantee me, at the very least, a blackened eye. You are not the least bit reserved in the use of your fists.”
Josephine considered his statement. Since he had arrived three hours earlier, she had hit him twice and had fought with her sister in his presence. To him, she most certainly was a bit of a ruffian and a hesitant grin crept over her lips.
“You must believe me quite the brute,” she said, perhaps with a bit of embarrassment.
“Quite,” he replied, rubbing his throat. “But I truly believe you defend Torridon, mayhap singlehandedly.”
A chuckle escaped her. “Nay, not singlehandedly. I do have some help.” She paused and looked up at him, perhaps allowing herself to openly inspect him for the first time. Perhaps, it was time. “I… I fear we got off to a bad start and I apologize for striking you – both times. When my emotions run high, which they do on occasion, I become very… demonstrative.”
Andrew could see her guard go down, as if someone had lowered a curtain. The change in her manner was dramatic. Pleasant, even. Now, he thought he might be seeing the real Lady Josephine – the intelligent, caring, and sensitive side. He had already seen the no-nonsense, feisty side, and he liked this new side just as well. Well, almost.
He liked a woman with fire.
“There is no need to apologize,” he said. “No harm done, although you have a powerful punch. I rather enjoyed it.”
Her eyebrows flew up in surprised amusement and she snorted. He was either flirting with her or simply being humorous; she couldn’t tell which. Either way, he was causing her to blush, something she was quite uncomfortable with.
But it was rather fun.
“You are a fool, Andrew d’Vant, jesting with me as such,” she said. “Now, get out before I enjoy you to death!”
Andrew had to chuckle at the woman. He could see her red cheeks, appreciating that he had put that color there. He’d seen it creep in. He rather liked teasing her because she was quick to respond. He realized very quickly that he liked to get a rise out of her. But he dutifully moved for the door, intent on obeying her command. With a gloved hand on the latch, he turned one last time to the figure in red silk standing in the center of the room.
God’s Bones, she was lovely.
Josephine saw his gaze as he stood by the door, a rather appraising expression on his face. There was such heat in his eyes that she could feel her limbs tingling at the mere look – it was saucy, cocky, and seething with mischief. She wanted to run, melt, or slap him all at the same time.
She’d never known anything like it.
“Now, get to bed and go to sleep,” Andrew commanded with mock seriousness. “I expect a full tour of Torridon on the morrow.”
Josephine lifted an eyebrow. “Then be sure to inform Sully,” she said. “I would not want you wandering Torridon alone.”
So she was not going to fall for his charm. That was something that amused Andrew greatly. He was used to women falling at his feet. But it was of little consequence; there would still be time for him to put her under his spell. Therefore, he cast her a rather bold wink as he exited the chamber and closed the door quietly behind him.
With Andrew gone, the chamber was abruptly still and quiet. Josephine stood a moment, looking at the closed door, lingering on the memory of that bold wink. Oh, but he was a devil and he knew it. She could see it in his face. He was a scoundrel and he didn’t care. But none of that seemed to matter; somehow, she couldn’t fight off a grin as she removed the red robe and crawled into bed.
The clean linen bedding that Ola and Oletha brought in lay folded carefully at the foot of the bed, but she ignored it as she snuggled down under her coverlet and closed her eyes. It couldn’t have been an hour or two at most before dawn, and she was exhausted. It had been a very busy night.
Sleep claimed Josephine almost in an instant, a sleep so deep that she didn’t even hear Ola come back in the room and glance timidly at her mistress before retiring herself.
Ola went to sleep wondering why Lady Josephine had a smile on her face.