THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

shoulder. God’s teeth! “Angus. Now.”
    She smiled. “As you wish, sire.” Too his utter surprise, she placed a kiss on his forehead before leaving.
    ~#~
     
      “Finally, ye wake.” Angus clasped Duncan’s hand. “Ye know ye verra nearly shent my week by almost dying?”
    “Dying?”
    “Aye.” Angus dropped his voice to a whisper. “Had it not been for yonder wife, ye well may have. She’s not left yer side but to relieve herself in the garderobe. And why on earth did ye not say yer shoulder was a pestilence?”
    Duncan shrugged his good shoulder. “I thought it healing.” Angus raised a disbelieving brow and grunted before glancing at Beth who now stood straight backed and staring out the room’s small window.
    “Yer yon ladywife threatened all manner of mayhem when I suggested we bring back the doctor. Said she’d smote the man and then my bonnie self if ‘ the raunchy bastard so much as crossed the threshold! ’ Aye, those were her exact words.”
    “I donna understand raunchy. ” Bastard, he understood just fine.
    “Nor I, but her meaning sat clear as well water.” Angus chuckled. “And here I thought ye’d wed a pious woman.”
    He had. Hadn’t he? She certainly wasn’t reticent about threatening, but swearing in Angus’s presence? No lady born would hazard such.
    “Aye, and how she keened over ye, too, in the wee hours when she thought me asleep at the watch.” Angus shook his head, looking as bemused as Duncan felt. “She didna keen aloud, but silently, tears flowing like a burn, stroking yer brow. And she crooned when she thought herself alone with ye. I didna know her songs, but they were as soft as any lullaby.”
    How odd. Not a moment ago Lady Beth had nearly suffocated him by holding his nose.
    “And my beard?”
    Angus shrugged. “She said ye needed stripping to break yer fever and strip ye, we did, down to the flesh, face and all.”
    Was naught sacred to the woman? With trepidation, Duncan raised a shaking hand to his head and found his hair still attached but braided. Praise the saints.
    Angus chuckled, “She appeared quite satisfied with uncovering ye face and left it at that.”
    “Help me up.”
    Angus rested a hand on Duncan’s good shoulder. “Nay. Yon doctor wife would have my sweeties in her fist within a heartbeat. Ye are fevered still, though not as before. I’ve seen yer back, man. ‘Tis still a long way from healed.”  
    Duncan heaved an exasperated sigh. He had a hundred things he needed to attend to if he’d truly been out like a doused fire for five days. “As yer liege lord, I order ye to help me up.”
    “Nay. I’d rather face yer fury on yer next good day, than deal with yon lady’s ire on this one.” He patted Duncan’s hand. “Oblige me by staying put, do as she asks, and mend.”
    Angus raised his voice and addressed Beth. “My lady, I take my leave, entrusting my lord into yer capable hands.”
    Beth blinked in surprise. Her husband’s second in command was leaving his post? “As you wish—-luste, Sir Angus.” His surprise at her deference registered before he could mask it. “Have a good day, Angus, and thank you for all your help.”
    Looking bemused, he bowed.
    Beth returned to Duncan’s side. “So, now it’s just you and me against the world, huh? Are you hungry?” When his brow remained furrowed she made eating motions with her hands.
    “Aye.”
    “I’ll see what the kitchen has to offer. Hopefully it’s not that dreadful haggis again.” She shuddered, picturing the sheep gut stuffed with oats and Lord knew what all else. She wouldn’t have been the least surprised to learn they packed a pig’s squeak in with its blood.
    A few minutes later she returned with a trencher of diced lamb and porridge. When she finished shoveling the contents of the bread bowl into him, she gently dabbed the corners of his mouth.
       Glory, you’re a handsome man.
       She’d been so pleased to discover a beautifully crafted mouth and square jaw under all the hair. And his lashes were to die for, so long and thick they tangled as he slept. She sighed, reluctant to admit she hovered precariously close to a precipice, one she couldn’t risk falling over, of falling head over heels.
      You’d better stop mooning and start focusing on the hard truth, Beth. Duncan might eventually feel gratitude, but he’ll never feel love. Besides, you’re going to find your way back to coffee, toilet paper—-she still couldn’t get