THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

across from her. She had no choice but to come today. Had she missed this rendezvous with the Bruce’s man, she would have been forced to wait almost a fortnight before she could pass along her information, and then ‘twould be too late. The tournament was set for the next full moon.
    She had hoped to get through all this intrigue and keep the broach for herself, but better to lose a pretty than to lose her life. “Thank you.”
    She did have exquisite taste.
    “Our lord and lady will be verra pleased.” Rachael said as she turned the piece in her hand then smiled at the man. “‘Tis truly fine. Yer talent is such, ye should be abiding in a major city, not hiding here where only a few can appreciate ye labors.”
    When Richard blushed and remained mute, Flora mumbled, “He does travel extensively to sell his wares.”
    “Ah.” Rachael handed back the broach. “Have ye been to Edinburgh, sir?”
    Looking uncomfortable, Flora’s hapless partner mumbled, “Aye.”
    “Ye made him shy with ye teasing, Rachael.” Not kenning if he’d been to the capital or not she said, “Richard was just telling me how difficult ‘tis getting his cart up the steep ways of Edinburgh.” When he remained mute, she kicked him under the table and ground out, “Is not that so, sir?”
    “Oh, aye,” Richard agreed. “‘Tis verra steep the streets. The castle sits upon a mountain, ye ken? And the high street runs from the gates to the valley below.”
    When Rachael asked, “Has the great tower started by King David been completed yet?” Flora nearly choked on her brew. Why on earth had she foolishly encouraged talk of Edinburgh? Arriving in Scotland, Edinburgh was the first place the Silversteins had sought refuge, only to discover the city filthy and full of pestilence.
    Flora glared at the Bruce’s man. He had the plan to bring her brother-by-marriage to his bloody knees, so why in hell was he still sitting here tolerating Rachael’s inquisition? She kicked out again to gain his attention.
    This time he kicked back—-hard.
    Ignoring her, he smiled at her companion. “Nay yet, Madame, but the chapel has been restored.”
    Rachael smiled. “How nice.”
    To Flora’s relief the Bruce’s man then emptied his tankard. He had manners enough to wipe the foam from his mouth before saying, “Talking with ye has been most pleasant, ladies, but ‘tis time for my leave taking.” He bowed to her. “’Twas a pleasure doing business with ye, Mistress Campbell.”
    She forced a smile. “Good day, sir.”
    When he disappeared Rachael murmured, “We should be finding our guards. ‘Tis past the appointed hour, non?”
    “Aye.” Flora came to her feet and noticed Richard had neglected to pay for his ale. She reluctantly dropped extra pennies on the table. Revenge was becoming more expensive by the hour. “If we hie home, we may be in time to hear what happens next to Oliver Twist.”
    “Ah, the poor wee lad.” Rachael picked up her basket and frowned at her purchases. “Can ye imagine selling a bairn? And to learn the Sassenach starve poor laddies to keep ‘em wee so they can force them down chimneys and then chase after them with lit brooms should they be slow at their task. Ack! ‘Tis abhorrent.”
    Flora readily agreed as she headed for the door. Not spying the Bruce’s man lingering on the street, she heaved a sigh.
     
     
     
    Chapter 24
     
    Hearing her husband’s call, Beth quickly ducked behind the enormous wicker baskets at Angus’s back. She held her breath and silently cursed her big mouth.
    Duncan MacDougall was a man on a mission, while Beth had never been the brunt of so many jokes in her life.
    It wasn’t that she minded her husband’s attention—Duncan was an incredibly considerate lover—but she’d been spending more time on her back than on her feet of late and things were falling apart in the keep. And Duncan’s time would be better spent at the lists rebuilding his strength readying for the tournament. If she’d explained ovulation once, she done it a dozen times and still she’d not had a moment’s peace or a solid night’s sleep since that fateful evening.
    “Have ye seen my ladywife?” Duncan asked as he approached.
    “Ye ladywife, my lord?”
    “Aye, ye twit!” Duncan paced before her hiding place. “The skinny lass with the fine arse.”
    Angus cleared his throat, no doubt in an effort to cover a chuckle. They’d all seen her carried away over Duncan’s shoulder often