Highlanders Collection. Ann Lethbridge

allow it.’ Laren picked up the piece of cooled glass with her gloved hands and set it upon the stone. From a leather bag she withdrew a cutting implement and began heating it over the fire.

      ‘I would think he’d be proud of this,’ Nairna said. Unable to stop her curiosity, she unwrapped one of the glass panes to reveal a circle fitted with green, crimson and blue bits of glass. ‘Why won’t you tell him?’

      A sad look transformed Laren’s expression. ‘We’ve had some … difficult times these past two years. Alex and I don’t talk often.’

      Nairna didn’t ask what had happened in their marriage. The wrenching pain on Laren’s face made her reluctant to ask. Instead, she wrapped up the glass and exchanged a glance with Marguerite.

      ‘I could arrange for these to be sold, without Alex learning of it,’ Nairna offered. It wouldn’t be difficult to find buyers interested in the glass, particularly the kirks and monasteries nearby.

      But Laren didn’t appear interested at the prospect of selling the pieces. ‘Some of them were my early attempts and I don’t think—’

      ‘They are still fine enough to sell to some of the smaller kirks,’ Nairna interrupted. ‘The larger pieces could go to a cathedral. Perhaps even to Rome.’

      Marguerite moved between them. ‘You have a talent, Lady Laren. It is a gift that should be shared with others.’

      But Laren shook her head. ‘I know that I’m a disappointment as Lady of Glen Arrin.’ Her eyes glittered with unshed tears, even as she turned her attention back to the glass. ‘Alex and I were wed for three years before he became chief.’ A softness came over her face at the memory. ‘He loved me then. And we were happy.’

      Laren’s gaze drifted to the ground. ‘I never wanted to be the wife of a leader. It terrifies me when I see them staring. I’ve heard what they say about me behind my back and I know it hurts Alex.’

      A lonely tear escaped from her blue eyes. ‘Though I might be a failure at everything else, this is something that belongs to me. It’s all I have.’ She lifted the redhot cutting implement from the fire, as though it were a glowing weapon.

      ‘And I’ll break every last piece before I’ll let anyone take this away from me.’

      The rough outline of their house stood at the top of the ridge, nearly completed except for the roof. Bram had stayed behind to work longer than the others, needing the time alone.

      On the walk down to Glen Arrin, his thoughts were as heavy as the stones that lined the hills. He’d lifted thousands of them over the years when he’d been in captivity.

      Bram closed his eyes, stopping near Ross’s house. His shoulders were stiff from exertion, his neck aching. He envisioned Nairna working out the knots in his muscles and the image made him hunger for more than food.

      The scent of her body, the touch of her hands upon him, would be his undoing. Even now, he raged to be close to her, to merge into the comfort of her embrace.

      As he passed Ross’s house, he stopped short at the sound of dogs barking. Mingled with the noise, he heard the unmistakable yipping of puppies.

      Around the gate, he saw the animals playing and tumbling with one another. He started to walk by, but then it occurred to him that Nairna might welcome a dog of her own.

      But as he took a step towards the puppies, he heard the whimper of an older dog lagging in the shadows.

      ‘If you’re wanting a pup, you can have your choice,’ Ross offered, stepping outside, ‘or you can have the cur if you want him. He’ll probably die in a few years, but he’s not bad for herding sheep.’

      The older man opened the door wider in silent welcome. ‘Would you and Nairna like to join us for a meal this night?’

      The scent of lamb stew filled the air and Bram pushed away the hunger. ‘Thank you, but we’ll be eating with Alex and Laren.’

      He eyed the dog, a mixed breed of collie, terrier and who knew what else. The dog rose up on his haunches and trotted over. When he reached Bram’s side, the cur began sniffing his ankle.

      ‘Lift your leg on me and I’m leaving you here,’ Bram warned. In answer, the dog sat and eyed him with deep sorrowful eyes.

      He exchanged a glance with Ross, who only shrugged. ‘If it were me, I’d give Nairna one of the pups.’

      Bram agreed with him, but as soon as he moved, the dog stood up and followed him.

      When he stopped, so did the dog. Bram leaned down to scratch the beast’s ears and was rewarded with a lick to his hand.

      He sighed. It might not be the best form of atonement for what he’d done to Nairna last night, but it was all he could do.

      He only hoped his wife could see past the animal’s unsightly appearance to see the affection beneath the surface. ‘Come on, then, dog. Let’s find Nairna.’

      Nairna and the other women worked to prepare a meal for the men that night. Though Jenny’s hands were too old to slice meat, the woman busied herself with collecting flasks of mead and loaves of bread.

      Nairna was setting aside food for Bram, when her maid came closer and murmured, ‘Has he been good to you, my Nairna?’ A gnarled hand closed over hers, and Jenny gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘Are ye enjoying being a wife?’

      Her face must have revealed her uncertainty, even though she nodded. Jenny came closer to look at her. ‘Now, sweeting, what is it that you’re needing? He hasna hurt you, has he?’

      ‘No, but I don’t know how to be a better wife to him.’

      Jenny patted her arm. ‘Oh, surely that’s not true. Has he pleased you in bed, then?’

      Nairna glanced around and saw that both Marguerite and Laren had found excuses to move closer. Both of them were leaning in, eavesdropping.

      ‘Bram has pleased me a little,’ she admitted, ‘but I worry that he’ll be disappointed when I can’t bear him a child.’

      ‘Nonsense. You were married to an old man with old seed. This young, virile husband of yours will plant a babe in your womb soon enough. And you’ll enjoy the ploughing, see if you don’t.’

      Knowing that Laren and Marguerite were hearing every word was enough to make Nairna’s cheeks flame hotter. She wanted to have a strong marriage with Bram, one where he would look at her the way he used to, when they’d first been betrothed. And perhaps grow to love her.

      ‘But how can I please him?’ she asked. ‘I don’t know what I should do.’

      The older woman reached out and touched her cheek. ‘Sweeting, if you’re wanting to satisfy your husband in bed, there’s nothing easier.’

      Now that the other women made no effort to hide their prying, Nairna supposed there was no point in trying to whisper.

      ‘Nairna, you simply don’t know the power you hold, as a woman.’ Jenny’s wrinkled face split into a wide smile. ‘There’s not a man alive who would turn down a naked woman who asked him to make love with her.’ The old woman patted her hand again, adding, ‘You’ll bring him to his knees.’

      Marguerite and Laren leaned in, their faces fully interested, though neither would admit it.

      Jenny sent them a conspiratorial smile. ‘And there’s a great deal more I can tell you.’

      Nairna worked alongside the other women, giving orders for the trestle tables and benches to be set out for the clansmen. When she’d finished, she spied Bram walking inside the keep.

      Her husband didn’t smile, but there was an intensity in his expression that made her nervous—as if she were about to become his conquest. Her hands started shaking, and when he drew nearer, all the physical memories of last night came flooding back.

      She remembered