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No one answered her. Then Gowrie turned the topic. "If you retaliate each time you think someone dislikes you, you'll be throwing apples all day long once we reach the Highlands."
"Superior Scottish apples," Alex teased.
Judith turned to frown at the warrior. "I don't care if I'm liked or not," she said. "Frances Catherine needs me. That's all that really matters. My feelings certainly aren't important."
"Why does she need you?"
Brod.i.c.k called out that question. Judith was so surprised the man had spoken to her, she turned and smiled at him.
Before she could form an answer, he said, "She has Patrick."
"And all of us," Alex said. "We're her relatives."
She turned around again. "I'm certain she's comforted by such loyalty, but you are men, after all."
Iain raised an eyebrow over that statement. He obviously didn't understand what she was talking about. He wasn't alone in his confusion, either. Gowrie and Alex looked just as puzzled.
"Frances Catherine has relatives who are women, too," Gowrie said.
"I would imagine she does," Judith agreed.
"Then why does she need you?" Gowrie asked. He reached down to take a third helping of the pork strips, but kept his gaze on her while he waited for her answer.
"For the birthing," Iain guessed aloud.
"Then she thinks she's going to have trouble?" Gowrie asked his laird.
Iain nodded. "It appears so."
Alex snorted. Judith took exception to that response. "Frances Catherine has every right to be worried. She isn't a coward, if that's what you're thinking. Why, she's one of the most courageous women I've ever known. She's strong and-"
"Now don't get yourself all worked up," Alex interrupted with a grin. "We are all aware of Frances Catherine's many fine qualities. You don't have to defend her to us."
"Does she think she's going to die?" Gowrie asked. He looked startled, as if he'd only just worked out that possibility in his mind.
Before Judith could answer him, Brod.i.c.k called out, "If Patrick's woman thinks she's going to die, why did she send for you, English?"
She turned around to glare at the plaid coc.o.o.n. Then she turned around again. She decided to ignore the rude man. He could shout a hundred questions at her, but she wasn't going to answer any of them.
Everyone waited a long minute for Judith to explain. She occupied herself by once again gathering up the containers of food to put away.
Brod.i.c.k's curiosity proved to be greater than his dislike for her. The rude man didn't just join the group, either. Nay, he elbowed his way in next to her, shoving Alex out of his way. She moved over to make room for the big man, but his arm still rubbed against hers when he was finally settled. He didn't recoil away. She looked at Iain to judge his reaction. His expression didn't tell her anything, though. He picked up the apple and tossed it to Brod.i.c.k. She still refused to look at the warrior, guessing he was still scowling, but she heard him take a loud bite of the offering.
Then Iain winked at her. She smiled back.
"Are you going to make me ask you again, English?" Brod.i.c.k muttered around a mouthful of apple.
She decided she was. "Ask me what, Brod.i.c.k?" she asked, trying to sound sincere.
His sigh was fierce enough to knock over the containers. Judith bit her lower lip to keep herself from laughing.
"Are you p.r.i.c.king my temper on purpose?" he asked.
She nodded.
Alex and Gowrie both laughed. Brod.i.c.k glared. "Just answer my question," he commanded. "If Frances Catherine thinks she's going to die, why in thunder did she send for you?"
"You won't understand."
"Because I'm Scots?''
She let him see her exasperation. "Do you know, I was always told the Scots could be mule-headed. I never believed such nonsense, of course, but now that I've met you, I believe I'll have to rethink my position on that issue."
"Don't get him riled," Alex warned with a chuckle.
"Aye, Brod.i.c.k gets downright surly when he isn't in a good mood," Gowrie told her.
Her eyes widened. "Do you mean to say he's happy now?"
Both Gowrie and Alex nodded at the same time. Judith burst into laughter. She was certain they were jesting with her.
They were just as certain she'd lost her mind.
"We're all curious as to why Frances Catherine sent for you," Alex said once she'd controlled herself.
She nodded. "Since you don't know me at all well, I'll have to confess to a few of my considerable flaws so you'll understand. I'm extremely stubborn, arrogant too, though in truth I have absolutely nothing to be arrogant about. I'm sinfully possessive... did I mention that flaw?"
Everyone but Iain shook his head at her. Judith stared at their leader, though. His eyes had taken on such a warm glint. It was a little unnerving to have such a handsome man give her his full attention. She had to force herself to turn her gaze away so she could concentrate on what she was saying.
She stared at her lap. "Well, I am possessive," she whispered. "Frances Catherine is well aware of my many imperfections, too. 'Tis the truth she's counting on them."
"Why?" Brod.i.c.k asked.
"Because she thinks she's going to die," Judith explained. She let out a little sigh before adding, "And I'm too stubborn to let her."
Chapter 3.
They didn't laugh at her. Iain smiled, but none of the others showed any reaction to her sinful boast. She could still feel herself blushing. She hid that telling show of embarra.s.sment by turning her attention to repacking the containers.
There wasn't any food left to put away. Once Brod.i.c.k started eating, he didn't stop until the last morsel was gone.
Judith excused herself and went back to the stream to wash the sticky apple juice off her fingers. She sat down on the gra.s.sy slope near the water and brushed her hair until her scalp tingled. She was exhausted, yet was enjoying the beauty and the peaceful solitude of her surroundings too much to move.
When the sun had almost disappeared from the sky, and only streaks of golden-orange shadows remained, Iain came to fetch her.
Her smile of greeting took him by surprise. He reacted by being a bit more gruff than usual. "You should get some sleep, Judith. Tomorrow will be a difficult day for you."
"Will it be difficult for you, too?" she asked. She stood up, patted the wrinkles out of her gown, and then started down the slope. In her haste she forgot about her brush. It got caught up in her feet, tripping her, and she went flying toward the ground. Iain moved with amazing speed for such a giant of a man. He grabbed her before she could pitch forward.