THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

tempted to tell him if he needed something to do, he should chase down her philandering husband.
    She raced through all she could downstairs to prepare for the Bruce’s arrival, and then climbed the stairs to the solar, where she found a beautiful starfish on the bed.
    Despite her refusal to talk with him, Duncan had been leaving little gifts in the solar all week. She turned the perfect, prickly peace offering in her hand. Where did her husband sleep now? He’d given over the solar to her without so much as a grumble, so she hadn’t a clue. When Flora’s face came to mind and Beth’s stomach clenched, she dropped the starfish onto the mantel next to the bird nest.
    Feeling maudlin and hating herself for it, she picked up her latest project, her boar bristle makeup brush. The donating boar now slowly turned on the roasting spit.
    As she wrapped thread around a few course hairs, she hoped the chalices she’d found in one of the storage rooms had taken a polish. Too, she hoped the women had been able to gather enough greens.
    Beth put down the bristles, too agitated to concentrate. She stood and the singular key hanging from a ribbon around her neck thumped at her waist. She fingered the wrought iron symbol of her power. Duncan had left the key on the bed along with a nosegay of wild flowers. Rachael had to explain its import, that as chatelaine—-mistress of the keep—she had the honor of carrying the keys. Since Duncan only had one lock, she had only one key. The fact that it belonged to the dungeon didn’t detract from the sentiment. He wanted peace between them.
    But the peace he sought was a long way from being won. To Beth’s great annoyance, Flora, though never at meals now, still remained within the keep. Beth had no way of knowing if he went to her at night, but suspected he did, given his appetites and the woman’s blatant sensuality. Thinking about them together, making love, turned her stomach and caused a tightening in her throat. She pushed the thought aside. No easy task since Flora would be joining them for dinner tonight.
      According to Rachael, Miss I’m Too Sexy would serve as a gentle reminder to the Bruce that Blackstone also had close ties to the powerful Campbell clan. Why this was necessary Beth had no clue.
      Beth examined her night’s wardrobe and groaned. Much to her chagrin—and Rachael’s delight-—her ensemble included a gold-and-pearl-encrusted headband with requisite rear veil and two jeweled cauls—-nets—-for holding her hair on either side of her face. Her strapless gown with its row of ornamental amber buttons down the front and back laces had been altered through the bust. It was made of deep blue and green vertical silk panels. She was to wear a jeweled girdle and a three-foot-long golden link necklace with a dangling reliquary. The locket she could have done without after learning the enameled doodad was a priceless heirloom of wife number two and held a relic—-a few hairs or pieces of bone from some dead saint. Just the thought of touching it made her skin crawl.
      To complete her ensemble she had to wear a bliant—-a full-length, highly-prized blue squirrel-fur-lined coat with billowing sleeves. Taken together it had to be the ugliest getup she’d ever seen.
    Struggling into the under dress she fervently hoped she wouldn’t expire from heat prostration before the night was through, but if she did, she’d look good doing it. She now had mascara, shadow, blush, and lip gloss thanks to beeswax, soot, charcoal, wild raspberries and umpteen hours of experimentation.
    As she dropped the gown over her head, someone knocked on the solar door. Thinking it Rachael, she called, “Come in.”
    Duncan cautiously pushed the door open to find his ladywife wiggling frantically within a mound of silk.
    “Rachael, can you please help me get into this before I suffocate?”
    He grinned as he strode to Beth’s side. The woman was a wonder. He silently eased the gown’s opening forward so she could extricate herself.
    As soon as her head popped out she gasped. “Duncan!”
    “My lady, pardon the intrusion. I’d not kenned you’d still be at yer toilet.” Had he, he would have remained below, but then tonight was too important for both of them. As she backed away, her arms finally finding their way out of the gown, he asked, “Will ye come with me? I’ve something of great import to show ye.”
      “Oh?” Her eyes grew wide with apprehension. “Is the