Page 88 of Bride of Fire
Unwilling to subject herself to any more of the soft, crooning exchanges taking place in his bedchamber, Jenefer closed the shutters and jabbed at the fire.
There was no point in trying to sleep. She’d only toss and turn and annoy her cousin.
Instead, she paced the nursery in an angry swirl of skirts. She clenched and unclenched her fists. She muttered curses under her breath. She scowled at the wall between the chambers with enough hatred to scorch the plaster.
On one pass, she ventured too near the tub. Striding forward, she caught her bare toe on the hard oak. Sharp pain shot up her foot, wringing a gasp from her.
“Bloody shite!” she hissed, clutching her throbbing toe and hopping on her good foot.
Her oath woke Miles. Which made her utter another.
Cicilia roused to Miles’ whimpers. She sleepily patted him, hoping it was only a bad dream.
But when the young nurse suddenly spied Jenefer in the room, she gave a squeak of surprise, bringing Miles fully awake.
After that, even Cicilia’s cooing and patting couldn’t calm him. His whimpers rose to a high-pitched wail. Feiyan, half-buried in sheepskins, dug her way out to complain.
“Odin’s eye, Jen, can’t you quiet him?”
She bit her lip. Shecouldquiet him. And it was becoming second nature to her to console the crying lad.
But if she didn’t, if she let him cry, Morgan wouldn’t be able to sleep. Neither would his soft-voiced concubine. The philandering Highlander would be forced to come to the nursery to look after his son. And she’d get the chance to show him just what fury a woman scorned could deliver.
Ignoring Miles wasn’t easy. His sobs grew more plaintive and miserable by the moment. Jenefer’s heart ached for him. Cicilia looked over at her with pleading eyes. And if Feiyan’s glares had been daggers, Jenefer would be dead by now.
Finally, just before Jenefer was about to yield to her maternal instincts and comfort the crying babe, the door swung open under Morgan’s hand.
She faced the Highlander with her chin held high and her arms crossed in challenge. Her heart knifed sideways at the sight of him, adorably disheveled from sleep, and her resolve almost crumbled.
But she steeled herself against the heartbreak. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her suffer. By God, she would confront him with his duplicity.
He looked weary, drained, and somewhat startled to see her. “Ye’re here.”
“Aye, I’m here,” she snapped. “Why? Were you hoping Bethac tossed me out on my arse?”
“Nay, but…” He glanced at Miles, screaming in Cicilia’s arms.
“Ah, that’s right,” she said bitterly. “You couldn’t throw me out. Then you’d have no one to keep the babe quiet.”
“Listen, Jenefer…”
She stiffened, hating how the sound of her name on his lips made her heart catch.
“There’s somethin’ I need to tell ye,” he said. “If ye can quiet the bairn…”
Hurt and fuming, she bit out, “If you mean to tell me our tryst meant nothing, don’t waste your breath.”
Shocked at her candor in front of Cicilia and Feiyan, he judiciously closed the door. “Naught could be further—”
“’Tis clear you scarcely waited for the linens to cool ere you sought out another lass’s bed.”
Cicilia gasped and covered Miles’ ears.
“What?” Feiyan exploded, outraged on Jenefer’s behalf.
Morgan gave her a sullen look. His fatigue was gradually diminishing, being replaced by growing ire. “’Tisn’t what it seems.”
She should have known he would make excuses. “Oh, tisn’t?” She raised her voice to a shout. “I wonder how the lady lying in yonder bedchamber feels about that.”
