Page 89 of Bride of Fire
“What lady?” Feiyan demanded.
Morgan grimaced, raising his hands to bid them be quiet. “I can explain.”
“Can you?” Jenefer doubted that.
Feiyan skewered him with a glare. “This I’d like to hear.”
“No one can hear anythin’ with…” Morgan gestured in frustration toward the bairn, who was now screaming at the top of his lungs.
Unable to endure any more of Miles’ forlorn crying, Jenefer lifted him from Cicilia’s arms.
Jostling him against her bosom, she confided in the lad, loud enough to be heard over his wailing. “You see, Miles, what a fiend your laird is. Like a fickle bee, stealing nectar from one blossom and hastening on to the next.”
Morgan’s brows collided in aggravation. “’Tisn’t like that at all.”
“And then denying it,” Jenefer added, raising her voice again so the woman in his bedchamber would be sure to hear, “even though his paramour is right next door.”
“Will ye keep your voice down?” he pleaded between clenched teeth.
She took his request as a challenge. “Why? Are you afraid your doxy will hear the truth from me?”
“Damn it! Ye don’t understand,” he growled.
“Oh, I understand. Like all Highland heathens, you simply seize what you want.”
“Not true,” he argued.
She gave him a smoky glare and resumed addressing Miles. “But you’ll be raised in the Lowlands, won’t you, Miles? And Lowlanders are faithful.”
“Now hold on,” Morgan said, indignant.
She wasn’t in the mood to hold on. “Lowlanders don’t flit from bed to bed, stealing lasses’ virtues and breaking lasses’ hearts.”
“Stealing?” He arched a brow.
She ignored his parsing of words, cooing, “And you, sweet Miles, you’d never use a lass as you see fit and cast her aside like offal, would you?”
“Och, for the love o’…” Morgan muttered.
The babe was beginning to settle down. And it seemed as if he were paying heed to her words.
“I know you can’t help being born in the despicable Highlands, but maybe there’s time to save you from your da’s bad habits.”
She knew she was prodding at a dangerous beast. Belittling Morgan’s beloved Highlands was like yanking a tooth from a sleeping wolf.
Morgan straightened to his full, impressive height. Stabbing a finger down at her, he snarled, “Don’t ye ever insult my home and the place o’ Miles’…” He bit out an oath at his mistake. “Allison…Allison’s birth. ’Tis a fine piece o’ land belongin’ to my clan for generations. And as far as my habits, I hope he…”
He broke off, blanching. For a long moment, he only stared at her.
Feiyan’s mouth went round with surprise.
Miles silenced as well, sucking on his fist and gazing at Morgan.
Morgan spoke softly. “How…how did ye know the bairn was…”
“Yours?” She smirked. “’Tis plain to see.”
“How long have ye known?”
