THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

He’d forgotten she’d read part of his diary. He sighed. ‘Twas odd, knowing his writings were of such import they’d been translated. Twice. When she settled on his chest again, he wrapped his arms around her.
    “Ye ken I dinna like it, but will do it again if need be to keep what is mine.”
    He felt something warm and wet on his chest and lifted her chin to see her tears. “Hush, ‘twould not be so bad. Ye’d have a free hand here and nay need to fret over me chasing ye with a gleam in my eye.”
    She slapped his stomach. “Do not joke about war, Duncan Angus MacDougall. You could die or be maimed—”
    He pressed a finger to her lips. “I’ll not do it again if it upsets ye.”
    She settled onto his chest again. “Damn straight, it upsets me.”
    It came as a bit of a shock to realize his wife truly cared for him. Mayhap she’d not leave him after all, even if she couldn’t have a child.
    “Beth, what do ye want most in the world?”
    She studied his face for a long moment as fresh tears filled her eyes. In answer she kissed him gently on the lips but said no more. 
    ~
    The next morning, unlike the rest of the clan who cheered and hooted as Duncan and Angus went at each other on the lists, sending the sounds of crashing wood on steel echoing around the bailey, Beth grimaced and silently bit her nails. She sorely regretted suggesting Duncan practice for the tournament. How the men could still laugh and call out obscene taunts as they tried to decapitate each other was beyond her.
    “Dinna fash, my lady,” Flora whispered at her elbow. “Yer man is well-skilled at this. See, he has not been unseated, and Angus is verra strong and wily.”
    Making room for Flora at her side, Beth smiled for the first time in hours. “Good morn, Flora.”
    “Good morn.”
    Beth’s smile faded into a cringe as Angus’s lance struck her husband’s shield with an ungodly thud and the wood shattered. “Just the thought of him falling and getting trampled by that enormous beast...”
    The massive white Percheron Duncan rode weighed a ton.
    Flora shook her head. “Ransom is fond of his master so he willna stomp upon our liege should he be unseated.”
    “I pray you’re right.”
    Duncan had told her he’d acquired the animal in France six years ago and swore the stallion was intelligent and the best he’d ever had.
    “I see ye wear thy broach,” Flora whispered.
    “Yes, it’s lovely, Flora. I thank ye again.”
    “Ye are most welcome. I’ve come to ask if ye would like to see the new woolens Sean’s wife has been weaving. So soft and fine, ‘tis wondrous.”
    “I would love to see it.” Beth had been dying to see what home industries Duncan had at his disposal. Surely, with her twenty-first century perspective, she could come up with something lucrative that would keep him home, keep him from becoming a mercenary again.
    “Then let us go after the men are finished here, my lady. Sean’s wife and the loom are just above the village, there.” Flora pointed toward the hill just to the right of Drasmoor.
    “Yes, and thank you.”
    Flora’s attitude toward her had changed since the banquet. This last week, she’d been pleasant and the first in the hall to assist in readying the mid-day meals. Pleased that Flora had extended her hand in friendship in yet another way, Beth said, “I’ve always wanted to see how a loom works.”
    “Grand. We can cross to Drasmoor with one of the fishermen and be back by mid-day meal.”
    As she watched her husband dismount, Beth said, “Thank you for offering to take me.”
    “‘Tis my pleasure.”
    “Ah, my ladywife!” Duncan pulled his helmet off. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat. “What say ye? Am I fit enough to carry yer token into battle?”
    He was obviously so pleased with his performance she answered, “Aye, my lord. You are a splendiferous example of manhood, if ever I saw one.” And he truly was, gleaming and clanking in armor as he bore down on her in the morning sunlight.
    He pulled off his gauntlets and scooped her into his arms.
    In a whisper, he asked, “Have I allayed yer fears, woman mine?”
    “Aye.” She kissed him soundly, knowing he wouldn’t mind her confirming his prowess before one and all. The clan’s very livelihood and security depended on his ability. Yet she worried. As strong an opponent as Angus was, the Bruce was bigger still.
    Lowering her to the ground, he called to Rachael’s son, “Squire, fetch yer