William’s lips parted in shock, and then his face hardened. “Are ye having one of the men watch me?”
“Aye,” Brodee admitted unapologetically. “Do ye deny ye had my wife in yer arms today? Are ye calling Carrick a liar?” Brodee asked, motioning toward Carrick, who stood to their left still holding Brodee’s sword.
William turned to glare at Carrick. “I’ll deal with ye later,” he said, his tone threatening, and then he focused on Brodee once more. “I gave yer wife a brotherly hug because she was near tears from all ye have done to her!”
“What I have done to her?” Brodee said, his breath coming ragged with his anger.
“Ye ken.” The words were punctuated with a righteous indignation that gave Brodee pause and set off warnings in his head.
“What do ye think I’ve done to Patience?” he asked.
“We saw ye in the courtyard holding hands with Kinsey after the night she wore that revealing gown. Do. Ye. Deny. It?” William asked, throwing Brodee’s words back at him.
Brodee flinched as a flash of memory from that night came back to him. “We were nae holding hands,” he said, his neck suddenly hot. “Kinsey followed me, and she grabbed my hand. I was slow to react because I’d drunk three goblets of wine at dinner, and they had an unusual effect on me.”
“Ye expect me to believe three goblets of wine made ye act that way?”
It sounded ridiculous, but—“It’s true,” Brodee clipped. “I’d nae lie. And I’d nae be untrue to Patience.”
William arched his eyebrows. “I suppose ye’d nae ignore her at supper either and instead talk to Kinsey the entire time? And gape at all the charms she showed in that red gown?” The fiery look William gave Brodee made his uneasiness grow tenfold.
“I dunnae recall any gown that showed any charms of Kinsey’s because I dunnae see her that way.” He only had eyes for his wife, but he refused to admit it aloud. Instead, he scrubbed a hand over his face. “I did ignore Patience that night, but it did nae have anything to do with Kinsey. I drew a line, and I have to stick to it.”
“What line?” William asked, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling. “The one that sent ye down to the shore with Kinsey in the dark on the same night ye ogled her and held her hand?”
“Ye have it all wrong,” Brodee said, suddenly suspicious that he did, too.
“Do I?” William sounded disbelieving. “I suppose I also have it wrong that ye were the one to ask Kinsey to walk to the shore with ye, that ye made comments to her that ye wished to join with her, that ye gave her permission to be in charge of planning the festivities for the tournament?”
The inflamed, belligerent tone William directed at him left no doubt what William thought, and Patience must have too, that he was pursuing Kinsey. That he might have already bedded her. Had he asked Kinsey to the walk to the shore with him? He frowned, trying to recall the events of the night. “I felt unstable that night. She offered to walk with me.”
William snorted. “I have nae ever seen ye unstable, even when ye have been stabbed, but ye are telling me wine made ye so?”
Brodee slid his teeth back and forth, thoughts tumbling quickly now. Something was not right. “I have nae ever hinted to Kinsey that I wanted to join with her. I have made clear I dunnae, if anything. And I did nae even consider anything needed to be planned for the tournament until Kinsey mentioned it, and said Patience would be overwhelmed. I did nae give her Patience’s role.” He curled his hands into fists, recalling his initial wariness of Kinsey. “I think a talk with Kinsey is in order—one for which Patience is present.”
“Likely a good notion if ye wish yer wife to ever speak to ye again,” William said, his tone not nearly as sharp as it had been.
Brodee looked at his friend’s bloody nose and busted lip.Christ.How had he allowed himself to believe William capable of such things? He’d never been a jealous man, but… An image of Patience filled his mind. Her head was thrown back in passion, rosy lips parted, slender legs splayed wide, eyes filled with lust for him. Her husky laugh rang in his ears. The soft lilt in her voice as she had confided in him, then boldly told him she wanted to stay with him but not to sleep, whispered across his mind. He’d been so busy trying to control what he felt that he had not even realized the extent of it.
She had him completely, body and soul—likely since the first moment he saw her in the courtyard spinning in circles. He wanted to know her, to learn her hopes and dreams and make each come true. Fear gripped him, but he shoved it down. Fear of losing her had driven him to almost doing so. Maybe not physically, but emotionally.
“Will, I—” He didn’t know the right words to apologize for thinking his friend would betray him. “I’m a clot-heid.”
“I warned ye that women could make ye that way,” William said with smirk.
Brodee laughed. “Aye, ye did. Come. I think we’ve one more false Kincaide to rid ourselves of.”
