“Chief,” a woman called out from where she was coming down from the walls. “Glad to see ye back before winter sets in.”

  Jasper turned his attention toward the woman. He reached up and tugged on the corner of his cap before he slid off Atlas’s back. He paused to give the animal a pat on its neck before it was led away by a lanky youth.

  Chief?

  Terin watched as several others passed Jasper and reached up to tug on their bonnets.

  Jasper had come home, it seemed.

  A strange jolt of happiness went through her as she watched the way the inhabitants of the tower greeted him.

  As one of their own and as their chief.

  Chief was something different in the Highlands. It was a position a man had to carve out and earn for himself. As Terin watched Jasper, she realized he was worthy of the title.

  A woman appeared, the rest of the people in the yard parting and clearing her path.

  “Aunt Davonna,” Jasper addressed the woman in a respectful tone.

  Terin discovered herself staring at the woman who had so much gossip attached to her name. Davonna wasn’t very large. Her waist was still trim but what caught Terin’s attention as Jasper came around to help her off her horse was the way Davonna watched them. Her gaze was sharp and keen. No one passed too close without inclining their head or reaching up to tug on the corner of their bonnets.

  She wasn’t dressed grandly either.

  No, Davonna had on a well-made dress of sturdy wool, and that was it. No lace or embroidery to set her above the other women. What made it clear that she was the mistress of the house was the way everyone deferred to her.

  “Who are ye?” Davonna asked. “Whose daughter?”

  Terin blinked in surprise as Davonna unmasked her so quickly. Davonna’s lips twitched into a little smile.

  “Ye are hardly the first female arriving at Larks Point in male attire,” Davonna answered Terin.

  “She is Terin Campbell,” Jasper supplied her name.

  “Laird Campbell’s daughter?” Davonna asked.

  Terin nodded.

  A small crowd had gathered around them. Davonna drew in a quick breath as her expression became unreadable.

  “Follow me,” Davonna instructed them.

  Davonna didn’t move toward the main tower. Instead, she crossed the yard and started to go down. Terin marveled at the ingenuity of the construction. Just like the main Chattan stronghold, there was an entire portion of it that was not visible from beyond the walls.

  At the bottom of a set of steps, there were rows of buildings. They were long with numerous windows. Here there were many, many people, and most of them were women. Terin could hear a steady noise coming from the open doors of those buildings, but she had no idea what was being done inside.

  One of the buildings was larger than the others. It was a manor house, although there were no grand gardens in front of it. On the far side, there was a huge garden that had a sprinkling of snow now. Davonna went inside the manor house, and Terin followed with Jasper close on her heels.

  Davonna led them past the great hall, then down a length of a passageway to a small room. One side of the room had pieces of fabric hanging from the wall. More than a dozen swatches were there, with a long worktable that had several bolts of linen sitting on them.

  “Explain why ye are here,” Davonna began without ceremony. “Although I imagine I can guess yer answer, Terin.”

  “My husband was a bastard, and his mother tried to poison me so he could wed again,” Terin spoke the truth. It was harsh, but she didn’t lower her chin.

  “Ye’re certain of that, how?” Davonna asked directly.

  Terin felt something shift inside her. A sense of confidence in her choice. She stared straight at Davonna.

  “Because I dressed as a maid and took the tray she had prepared for me to her room. She died before sunset.” Terin told the tale. “And I heard her maid tell the rest of the maids to stay away from my chambers. The Head of House confessed before the new laird of the Duncan to knowing the plot and doing naught to interfere.”

  Davonna stared straight back at Terin for a long moment. Terin never wavered. Even if she were marched straight to the execution platform, she would not apologize for her actions. Not even when she felt the noose being tightened against the base of her neck.

  “Even with a new laird,” Davonna remarked, “I can see how ye would not feel very comfortable staying there if the staff was involved.”

  Ever steadfast in her position, Terin was still relieved to hear Davonna agree with her.

  Or at least not be shocked by Terin’s actions. For it was clear that Davonna ran Larks Point. A single word from her, and Terin might find herself tossed out into the merciless grip of winter.

  “How long were ye wed?” Davonna asked.

  “Four years,” Terin responded. “I’m widowed now.”

  “Who cut yer hair?” Davonna continued.

  “I did,” Terin answered clearly.

  A woman’s hair was chopped off before she was whipped or burned. The gallows outside the gate were a warning to any convicts to stay away from Larks Point. Terin saw Davonna looking at her hair. Reaching up, Terin pulled off her knitted cap. She turned around to show the length, for a convicted woman would have had her hair cut much shorter so the strands might be sold to a wig maker.

  “Why did ye nae return home?” Davonna continued with her questions.

  Terin turned back to face her. She felt her cheeks heat, but there was only one way to stay at Larks Point, and that was to admit the truth of her circumstances.

  “I am a maiden still,” Terin confessed. “I proved it in order to stay alive when the Duncan were ready to elect a new laird.”

  “That would save ye from being too connected to the old laird,” Davonna agreed. “And yet, me brother would only wed ye again since ye are a maiden if ye return to Campbell land.”

  “I heard there is a place here for women in my circumstances,” Terin said. “And ye are me aunt.”

  “Ye need not belabor that point with me, Terin,” Davonna replied. “I know very well that once a noble daughter is contracted, she is as good as a bowl of water which has been poured out. I am dependent on the Chattan, for my dowry is in their accounts.”

  And lawyers could argue for decades if Davonna had tried to go home. It was the fate of more than one noble daughter. To go home meant to die a spinster. The only other option was a convent, for when the Church was involved, lawyers tended to close their mouths in favor of their immortal souls.

  “I traveled as a boy so no one would know where I went,” Terin said. “I hope ye will not turn me away.”

  “Me mother knows who she is,” Jasper spoke at last.

  “She does?” Terin turned on Jasper to find him standing behind her with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

  “Of course she does,” Davonna answered Terin’s question. “As Lady Chattan, Seana keeps all the correspondence. With three sons, I would guess yer father tried to match ye with a Chattan, which means Seana would have a portrait of ye.”

  Of course.

  It made perfect sense.

  “That is all well into the past now,” Terin answered.

  Davonna looked between Jasper and Terin. She drew in a breath and made a sound in the back of her throat which made it plain she didn’t agree with Terin.

  Well, Jasper is standing right behind ye…

  Terin really didn’t need to ponder why he was there.

  Ye mean ye are too timid to think about him…

  Davonna took only another small moment to contemplate Terin. Her expression tightened as she prepared to make her judgment. Terin felt her belly rumble in anticipation.

  “Everyone works here,” Davonna announced firmly. “Even daughters of lairds. So long as ye do nae have difficulty with that rule, ye are welcome. Ye shall dress as yer gender, for we donae need trouble with the Church.”

  Davonna started to leave. She looked over her shoulder at Terin.

  “Welcome to Larks Point.”

  *

  Larks Point Tower had other rules beyond working, too.

  Jasper followed Terin out of the study only to discover a row of matrons waiting for him. They were grinning and clearly looking forward to what was about to happen.

  “Come now,” Jasper spoke up. “I know the rules. And me men know the rules.”

  “We can’t be ignoring our duties,” one of the women exclaimed gleefully.

  Jasper tried to evade them. But they were simply too great in number. They were looking for sport, and he and Knox were going to provide it.

  “Terin, I would have a word with ye,” Jasper called out.

  “I am faring no better than ye,” Terin answered.

  Jasper turned his head to look toward Terin. Several women had surrounded her as well. Terin had her hands up in surrender, walking along the direction the women indicated.

  His hesitation earned Jasper firm grips on his wrists. He snapped his head around to see several smug expressions as the matrons around him reached for him and began to drag him down the passageway.

  He’d have laughed if he weren’t honest enough to admit they’d brought along sufficient numbers to have their way with him.

  So he went down the passageway and out a side door. A chicken squawked as they startled it on their way to a smaller building. Inside it was slightly smoky because the hearth was full of a blazing fire, in spite of it being full daylight.

  “Sweet bleeding Christ!” Knox declared. “Woman, ye go too far.”

  Jasper might have said something very similar, except that his kilt was falling toward the floor after one of the numerous pairs of hands on him had unbuckled his belt.

  “Here now,” Jasper argued. “I can manage on me own.”

  There was a collective round of laughter.

  The women converged on him, tugging, untying, loosening buttons, and stripping him down to his boots. The bathhouse was their domain, and for the moment, he was their prey.

  “Sit.” One of them pushed him back.

  Jasper landed on a stool as the mob reached for his boots.

  “I’ll get even with the lot of ye,” Jasper exclaimed.

  The women paid him no mind. Every last scrap of clothing he’d arrived in was being carried away and out the door as he was left bare as a newborn with naught but his hands to cover his cock. At least his greater height afforded him a good view. Jasper spied a tub. It was half full of water and even had steam rising from it. He took one long step and jumped over the edge of the tub to sink down where the water would at least grant him a sliver of modesty.

  “Chief!” Knox appealed to Jasper as he was being stripped.

  “Get in the tub, man,” Jasper advised. “Ye only get out of here after a scrubbing.”

  Knox was holding onto his shirt for dear life. His face twisted in an expression of outrage. Jasper pointed at a second tub, and Knox began fighting to get to it. There was a splash as he made it.

  “Give us that shirt now,” a matron demanded.

  “It needs washing,” Knox argued as he hugged himself to maintain his last garment.

  There was a matron who appeared to be in charge. The others turned and looked toward her for direction.

  “Ye think ye have something I have nae seen?” she asked pointedly.

  Knox frowned at her. “I’m rather more accustomed to showing what I have to one woman at a time.”

  “I see. Would ye prefer we were alone?” She softened her voice. The matron leaned over and gripped the edge of the tub. Knox’s expression relaxed as he fought to keep his eyes on her face and avoid looking at her cleavage.

  Knox grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

  The woman looked past Knox’s shoulder to another woman. A moment later, a pitcher full of cold water was dumped over his head.

  “Ye do nae even know my name. So, mind how cheeky ye are,” the woman said once Knox had wiped the water from his eyes.

  But Knox grinned. “What is yer name?”

  “None of yer concern,” she admonished. She straightened up and snapped her fingers. “Scrub him. Right down to his toenails.”

  There was a splash as Knox tried to escape from the woman wielding a brush. But the tub was small, and there were three other women surrounding him, all armed with brushes.

  “I’ll know before sunset,” Knox promised. She scoffed at him before turning to look toward Jasper.

  Jasper swallowed roughly, suddenly feeling like he was seven years old and fresh from fighting in a bog with one of his brothers. The woman in charge looked very much like he recalled his mother looking as she marched him down to the bathhouse because he’d appeared at the supper table wearing enough mud to plant a crop in.

  “I can manage very well, ma’am,” Jasper used a respectful tone in hope of avoiding Knox’s fate.

  “As if any man knows anything about how to clean,” the woman announced to the delight of her teammates.

  The women around him had just been waiting for her word. Now, they came up to the tub side, dipping their brushes and cloths into the water. One was slapping a lump of soap back and forth across her brush as she sent Jasper a menacing grin.

  Jasper stuck his foot out.

  He grinned, though, because he realized courting should be done after a good bath.

  *

  Terin was exhausted.

  She realized it was more than the ride from Duncan land. For four years, she’d fought to stay alert, always thinking before she did anything, so she didn’t fall victim to one of her mother-in-law’s schemes.

  She should have slept deep and soundly.

  What if Jasper was finished with her now that he’d heard her confession?

  Don’t you want him to be done with you?

  Terin stared at the ceiling of the room she was in. It was small but clean, and she had a bed, along with clean clothing and a full belly.

  Yet ye are restless.

  Terin let out a groan and turned over onto her side.

  She’d enjoyed his kiss.

  There in the darkness, she just couldn’t seem to get her mind to stop replaying the moment.

  Had she gone insane after all?

  It was an honest question. The years of marriage had felt endless. Fear had been her constant companion, isolation her most faithful friend.

  She’d often feared she’d not last. Certainly not long enough to see her mother-in-law buried.

  Yet, she had, and it seemed so poor a choice to spend even one more moment unsettled. Sleep should have come easily.

  Ye are not too old to wed again.

  Heat was swirling around her insides. Terin wanted to dismiss it, but she was frankly curious. Was it passion? Was she being foolish to not seek out Jasper and take a taste of it before he tired of chasing her?

  Oh yes, she knew he was chasing her.

  Terin smiled because no one was there to see it. The darkness afforded her the chance to simply be honest.

  Well, being at Larks Point was all about her going forth into the rest of her life honestly instead of having to maintain appearances.

  Maybe she should be more grateful for the ghastly turn of events her marriage had taken. Otherwise, she might have lived a life there on Duncan land as no more than a figurine.

  Now? Well now she had options.

  Aye, but do ye have the courage to be bold?

  She really didn’t know.

  And ye have forgotten the most important point, Jasper might be well done with ye now.

  Not only had she deceived him, she’d confessed to killing her mother-in-law. It wasn’t direct murder, but Terin knew many would argue that she was guilty of a crime no matter her justification.

  It had been justice.

  Terin felt a burn of certainty she’d rarely experienced in life as she contemplated her actions. She’d go to her execution with her chin held high before she ever apologized. Four long years of pent-up fear and rage were still burning brightly inside her.

  Well, it might well cost ye Jasper.

  So be it.

  Yet even as her confidence remained firm, Terin felt a shaft of lament pierce her heart.

  Chapter Four

  Davonna hadn’t been jesting about everyone working at Larks Point Tower.

  First light saw the inhabitants rising. Terin heard steps in the passageway even before the crack in the window shutters lightened. Someone opened their window shutters nearby, and it let in the sound of the chickens in the small yard that Terin had crossed when being shown to her room.

  A bell tolled in the distance—the first prayers of the day being announced at the Church. Terin sat up and rubbed her eyes. She was already awake, curious at what she’d discover. The dress she’d been given was a good wool one. She sat down on a stool to pull on her ankle-high boots first.

  A chicken cried out. Someone was out looking for eggs, and the hens were displeased.

  Terin stood up and reached for a padded hip roll. It was a modest one, and her underskirt fit nicely over it. The underskirt was a simple hemp one but nice and soft. She secured the waistband and pulled her skirt off the hook she’d hung it on for the night. By evening’s light, she’d seen how warm a brown the fabric was. Terin let it drop over her head and used a lace to close the waistband. A quick swing of her hips, and the fabric settled into place nicely.

  She rather liked dressing as a woman again.

  Perhaps Jasper would like it more.

  Terin allowed herself to simply smile with the idea while pulling a bodice on. It had stiff reeds sewn into the lining for support. Once she worked a lace through the eyelets on the front of it, her breasts rose up into the neckline.

  Jasper had never seen her cleavage.

  Ye are being overly bold.

  So what if she was? Terin turned and contemplated her reflection. There was an old brass mirror on the wall. The edges were rusted, but the center was polished.

  Terin admired her breasts; they were not small but not large.

  And Jasper was a large man.

  One thing she already knew for certain about Larks Point, there were many women here.

 

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