THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

addled mind was simply due to injury.
    And speaking of addled, while curled in his arms like a kitten, his ladywife had finally finished her tale. Ack, the poor lass, believing in sky scrapes and in him becoming a ghost, of all things. ‘Twas so sad he wanted to cry for her, for she truly believed her tale to be true. Believed it wholeheartedly, which made it all the more heartbreaking.
    But for not knowing whether or not she could give him an heir, she would make a bonnie wife. Bonnie indeed. She was soft spoken, had a wry sense of humor, lovely breasts, a lilting voice, and liked to tup. What more could a man ask?
      He rolled and reached for her. Finding the bed empty, he opened his eyes and saw her silhouetted in profile against the morning light.
    Tall and slim, draped only in sheeting and with her little breasts reaching for the sky, he thought her a sight to behold. She raised an arm over her head still unaware of his perusal.
    Then light bounced off metal and he saw the blade in her hand.
    “ Naaay! ” His roar echoed in the solar as he vaulted out of bed and knocked the blade away. He’d used such force he’d knocked her to the floor as well.
    “ Why, woman? ” Why would she take her life? His heart pounded a furious beat as he picked her up by the shoulders and shook her. Shook her so hard, she started to cry. And well she should. Christ’s blood!
    He shoved her toward the bed and retrieved the knife. When he discovered who had given it to her, he’d slice their throat with it.
    Why? Had last night meant nothing to her? Had her kisses meant nothing?
      “Ye are Wode , woman!” he roared. “ Wode! Do ye hear me?”
    Had he awakened a moment later, he’d be again standing ankle deep in a ladywife’s blood.
    She cowered against the headboard sobbing as he approached.
    “Duncan? I don’t understand—”
    “Close thy mouth!” His entire body quaked with pent-up rage at her betrayal. He grabbed her arm and yanked her to her knees before him.
    “Why?” she sobbed, “Why are you so upset? I was only—”
    He raised his hand and she screamed.
    “Augh!” He dropped his hand. “Christ’s blood. Ye’re making me as wode as ye be.” He’d never hit a woman in his life. The realization that he’d nearly done so-—coupled with the fear that filled him seeing her trying to slice herself open—made him nauseous.
    Heart aching, blood roaring in his ears, he grabbed his kilt and stormed out. Her plaintive “Why...?” and sobbing followed him like a witch’s curse.
    He stormed into the great hall and all went tomb quiet. God’s teeth! Had everyone heard? He had little doubt everyone in the bailey certainly had, since nothing in the solar windows would have muffled his furious railing. Ack!
    With his face still hot with infused blood, he scanned the hall’s rigid and silent occupants for Angus. Not finding him, he settled on venting his rage on Isaac.
    Pointing to his financial advisor, he hissed, “In the library. NOW. ”
    He crossed the hall with Isaac—now ash gray—following. Passing Flora, Duncan growled, “What the hell are ye grinning about?”
    “Nothing, my lord. Nothing.”
    On the stairs he turned to see her eyes still followed him, her snide, all-knowing grin still gracing her deceptively lovely face, and his anger grew.
    In the relative privacy of the library—the room, like most in the keep, still had no door, Isaac murmured, “My liege, have I done something to offend ye?” He started to pace. “For if I—”
    “Lock yer jaws, Isaac, and heed.” Duncan collapsed into a chair still not believing it could be happening again. He couldn’t believe he’d begun fancying himself in love with Beth. “Just moments ago, I awoke to find my ladywife trying to kill herself.” He threw the blade onto the table. “Do ye ken who owns this blade?” He’d racked his brain and couldn’t picture any of his men carrying the sgian dubh . Made of silver and quality steel, the six-inch knife would have been well beyond the purse of most within the clan. And it was not Beth’s. He’d been present when Beth, still unconscious, had been placed in the solar. She’d not carried it on her person. Nor would a blade of this caliber—of such great value—be left about so she might find it. Nay.
    Someone had given it to her.
    He pushed his hair off his face with both hands. “Isaac, I swear I have never been as frightened nor so furious in my life as when I saw the wee daft lass