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The Highlander's Touch

Page 41

   



Duncan gazed at the king admiringly. “You clever bastard.”
“Duncan!” Galan roared. “You doona address the king as such!”
Robert raised his hand and grinned. “Your brother has called me worse, as I have him, besotted with whisky and wenches. He and I understand each other well, Galan. In fact, it was while wenching with your brother at Edinburgh that we discussed this very concern. It is no longer a concern, is it? I fixed what most of your clan has not been able to fix for years.” Robert looked enormously pleased with himself.
Galan glared at Duncan. “That’s where you went when you said you were getting supplies? Wenching and drinking with the king? Have you no sense of responsibility?”
Duncan smiled innocently. “Robert needed to alleviate some tension, and I know of no better way. And while we were being entertained most grandly by a few lasses, we discussed the fact that Circenn was getting no closer to making sons for Scotland. As Robert pointed out—he has managed to fix what none of us could. I, for one, am grateful.”
Galan shook his head. “Circenn would kill us all if he suspected this wasn’t a vast misunderstanding.”
“But he’ll never know, will he?” Robert said calmly.
Duncan burst into laughter again, and after a brief, startled look, Galan joined him.
* * *
“I am not marrying you,” Circenn rumbled behind a flawless smile.
“I didn’t ask you to,” Lisa hissed back, a smile of spun glass bowing her lips.
With brittle displays of teeth, they glared at each other, while accepting congratulations from the various men standing in the hall. Each time they had a moment of near privacy, or their mouths and ears were pressed close together, one of them hissed at the other. To the room at large, they looked like a happily whispering couple.
“Doona think this changes a thing,” he snapped, lips tautly stretched over his teeth.
“I’m not the one who told him a lie,” Lisa snapped back, certain she appeared to be snarling. She smiled with effort.
“Congratulations, milord.” Armand Berard clapped Circenn’s shoulder.
“Thank you,” Circenn said, beaming as he forcefully pounded Armand on the shoulder.
Armand’s brows dipped. “Why did you not tell us this morn, Circenn, when you told us who she was?”
Circenn didn’t even pause before spilling another lie. Och, but they were coming fast and furious, with shocking ease. He managed a self-effacing smile. “I wasn’t certain the king wished it announced, but it seems he was eager.”
“Milady.” Armand bowed low over her hand and kissed it. “We are pleased Circenn has chosen to settle down and begin a family. Although those of our order do not wed, we believe if a man is not going to take an oath of celibacy, he should take a wife. It keeps him humble and inclined toward sobriety.”
Lisa smiled brightly at Armand. Humble indeed, she thought. There wasn’t a humble bone in Circenn Brodie’s body. Although, dislike him as she may, she wouldn’t have minded searching for one.
“Where did he go?” Circenn growled, the moment Armand melted into the crowd.
“Armand?” Lisa asked blankly. “He’s right there.” She pointed to his retreating back.
“Rrroberrrt! That traitorous bastard.” His burr was so thick on the name that that the rs were a growl with a weak t at the end.
“How should I know where the king went?” Lisa rolled her eyes. “I’m the last person who ever knows what’s going on around here.”
“This entire fiasco is your fault for leaving your chamber! Did I not tell you to remain in your chamber? How many times did I tell you to remain in your chamber? Did I tell you at least a dozen times in the past two days not to leave your chamber?”
“Repeating the same question three times, in slightly different ways, does not make me more inclined to answer you. Don’t talk to me as if I’m a child. And don’t even think you’re going to blame this one on me.” Lisa sniffed and averted her face. “I certainly would never have told anyone I was marrying you. Leaving my chamber didn’t get us betrothed. You did that all by yourself.”
Circenn studied her through narrowed eyes, then lowered his head menacingly near hers. “Perhaps I will wed you, lass. Do you know that a wife must obey her husband in all things?” he purred against her ear. He stopped scowling abruptly. “Renaud!” He clapped another Templar on the shoulder and smiled painfully.
“We are pleased, milord,” Renaud de Vichiers said formally.