THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

Vespers?”
    “Vespers?”
    “Prayers.”
    “Ah. I’m not Catholic.”
    He frowned then tipped up the book in her hands to read the cover. “A good tale.”
    “I hope so.”
    “Ye dinna choose a religious tomb?”
    She wrinkled her nose. “I prefer escapism.” When his frown deepened, she clarified, “I like legends and tales. Love stories with happy endings.”
    “Ah. And yer first husband, dame? His passion?”
    She felt a blush rise. “I’ve never been married.” Seeing his eyes widen, she added, “Until now...to Duncan.”
    “But non, madame . You were married in France, oui ?”
    “No. I’ve never been to France, and I’ve certainly never been married before.” She spun the gold band on her finger. How could something so beautiful—that should hold such promise—make her feel so empty? “This is the very first time.”   
    Scowling, he studied her for a moment then asked, “ Madame , may I ask ye full Christian name?”
    “Katherine Elizabeth MacDougall Pudding...ah, MacDougall.” She grinned. “Hmmm, I have two MacDougall’s now.”
    “Hmm, indeed.” He chewed his lower lip for a moment. “ Excusez moi, madame , I have something I must attend.”
    She stood. “It was a pleasure speaking with you. Rachael has been such ...”
      Isaac raced out the door like the hounds of hell were on his tail, which left her saying, “...a big help,” to an empty room.
    ~#~
     
    “Dearest, we must talk.” Isaac put his hand on Rachael’s bottom and pushed her into the distillery and closed the door.
    “Husband, as much as I’d like to play, I’m much too busy for nonsense right now.”
    “Hush!” He quickly scanned the small room to be sure a lad wasn’t napping beneath a bench. “I just had a most distressing conversation with the MacDougall’s new wife.”
    “And?”
    “I can not take the time to explain now, but trust I’m asking this boon with purpose. I need you to find out all you can about our new lady’s past.”
    “Ask her yourself. I have wool to dye, clothing to mend—”
    “Rachael, I fear our Duncan has married an imposter.”
    She blanched. “But this can not be! If this is so, we loose everything.”
    Isaac, sweating profusely, nodded.
    ~#~
     
    Duncan glanced over the parapet to see Beth, her skirts tucked up between her exposed legs, crawling in crab fashion across the boulders at the keep’s footing. “What in the name of all ‘tis holy is she doing now?”
    Angus looked down. “I hazard to guess, my friend, but we’d best capture her before she slides into the sea.”
    Duncan tore down the stairs. “She’s daft, I tell ye.” He shouldered his way past two men entering the keep’s doorway. ‘Twas a damn shame, too. She had lovely legs. “I would most willingly let her drown but for fashing over Albany’s retribution should she, too, die under my protection.”
    “Aye,” Angus agreed, “there is that.” They jogged across the bailey and through the arched portcullis. “Think drowning be her intent?”
    “I neither ken nor care, just so long as she doesna succeed.”
    They raced around the castle’s rocky face, repeatedly slipping on the jagged boulders, only to find the area they had last spotted Lady Beth now empty of all but lichen and barnacles.
    “Do ye think she fell?” Angus scanned the water for her body.
    “Nay. Look.” Duncan jumped a puddle and pointed to wet footprints just above the waterline heading toward the opposite side of the keep. Heart bounding with relief, he said, “Come.”
    They circumnavigated the entire keep without catching site of his wode wife. Going through the portcullis, Duncan growled to the guard, “Have ye seen Lady Beth?”
    “Aye, my lord. She just entered the keep looking like a drown cat whilst carrying kelp.”
    “Kelp?” He stormed across the bailey, rubbing blood from the stinging cuts on his palms. “I tell ye, Angus, the woman will be the death of me.”
    He strode into the great hall, ready to breathe fire. “Where is she?” he demanded of everyone in the room.
    Flora cocked her head to the side. “By she, do ye mean your bonnie wife, my lord?”
    Only haste kept a civil tongue in his head. “Aye.”
    Flora’s pouty lips curled at the corners as she pointed to the stairs. “She passed just a moment ago.”
    He stomped across the hall.
    At his heels, Angus asked, “What will ye do when ye find her?”
    “I’m trussing her for now, and then—as soon as I am able—I am