Scandals Bride

"There!" Algaria pointed to a fleeing rider.

Catriona stood in her stirrups to look. "It's that fiend Dougal Douglas!"

"That pestilential man!"

Calmly, Richard sca

They met as Richard had pla

Whether Douglas knew what hit him-either what had brought him from his saddle or who it was that hauled him to his feet by his collar, shook him like a rag, then buried a solid fist in his gut-Richard neither knew nor cared. Having a crossbow bolt fired at him gave him, he considered, a certain license.

They were much of a height, much of a size-it was no wonder the old hermit had thought Douglas was him. Richard had no compunction in treating Douglas to a little home-brewed-the way they brewed it south of the border. That first rush took the edge from his fury; grasping the downed Douglas by his collar yet again, he hauled him once more to his feet.

"Was it you," Richard inquired, recalling several incidents that hadn't, to his mind, been sufficiently explained, "who left the paddock gates opened and broke branches in the orchard?"

Gasping and wheezing, Douglas spat out a tooth. "Damn it, mon-she had to be brought to see she needed a mon about the place."

"Ah, well," Richard said, drawing back his fist. "Now she has me." He steadied Douglas, then knocked him down again.

He gave him a moment, then hauled him to his feet again. And shook him until his teeth-those he still had left-rattled. Closing his fist about Douglas's collar, he lifted him, just a little, and, very gently, inquired, "And the fire?"

Dangling and choking, Dougal Douglas rolled his eyes, flailed his arms weakly, then, forced to it, desperately gasped: "No one was supposed to get hurt."

For one instant, Richard saw red-the red glow of the fire as he'd ridden into the courtyard-the red maw that had roared and gaped as he'd seen his wife, her hair bright as the flames, fling a blanket over her head and dash into the fury. "Catriona nearly got caught in the blaze."

His tone sounded distant, even to him; refocusing on Dougals's face, he saw real fear in the man's eyes.

Douglas paled-he struggled frantically.

Catriona rode up to see Richard bury his fist in Dougal Douglas's stomach. The fiend doubled over; Catriona winced as Richard's fist swung up and, with his full weight behind it, crunched into Douglas's jaw. Dougal Douglas fell backward into the heather. And didn't move.

Richard watched, but saw no sign of returning life. Shaking out his fingers, he turned. To see Catriona. He sighed. "Damn it, woman-didn't I tell you-"

Her eyes flew wide. "Richard!"

Richard whirled-just as Dougal Douglas came to his feet in a lunge, a knife in his fist. Swift as a thought, Richard sidestepped and caught Douglas's wrist.

Snap!

"Aargh!" Dougal Douglas fell to his knees, cradling his broken wrist.

"You fiend!"

Abruptly, Richard found himself thrust aside; hands on her hips, green eyes blazing, Catriona interposed herself between Dougal Douglas and him.

"How dare you?" Green fire and fury poured over Dougal Douglas. "You were once welcomed as a friend of the vale and this is how you repay The Lady's graciousness? You conspire against me and the vale-worse! you attempt to harm my chosen consort-the one The Lady finally sent for me. You're an evil worm-a loathsome toad! I've half a mind to turn you into an eel and leave you here to gasp to death, or better yet, to be picked to death by the birds. That would be a suitable end for you-a just repayment for your unconscionable acts."

She paused for breath; Douglas, on his knees before her, simply stared. "Damn it, ye daft woman-the man's a damned Sassenach!"

"Sassenach? What does that have to do with it? He's a man-far more of one than you'll ever be." She stepped forward; eyes locked on hers, Dougal Douglas cowered back.

Catriona pointed a finger directly at his nose. "Hear me well." Her voice had changed to one of mezmerizing power. "If you ever again act against me, the vale or any of my people-and especially my consort-those jewels you hide beneath your sporran will shrivel, and shrink, until they're the size of apricot kernels. Then they'll fall off. And as for the rest of your apparatus, should you entertain so much as a black thought against any of The Lady's people, it will grow black, too. And wither away. And if you speak ill of anyone from the vale, or even co

She paused for breath; Richard reached out, closed his hands about her shoulders and lifted her aside. Setting her down just behind him, a little to the side, he leaned down so his face was level with hers and whispered: "I think he's got your message. Any more, and he might faint." He glanced at Dougal Douglas, who, aghast and pasty-faced, was watching them both like a trapped rabbit. Richard gri

She humphed, and crossed her arms over her chest, and glowered at Dougal Douglas, but she consented to remain silent and still.

Richard turned back to survey their malefactor. "Might I suggest," he said, "that before my wife further develops her theme, you might care to be on your way?" The relief on Douglas's face was plain; he started to get to his feet. Richard stayed him with one raised finger. "However, do make sure that, henceforth, you stay out of our way, and out of the vale. On pain of The Lady's wrath. Furthermore, just in case you're inclined, once you're well away from here, to forget how potentially violent The Lady can be, you would do well to dwell on this, more mortal threat."

All hint of expression leaching from his face, Richard held Dougals's gaze calmly. "All the details of your recent interference in the vale, all the facts plus witnesses' accounts, will be forwarded to my brother, Devil Cynster, His Grace of St. Ives. Should any inexplicable harm subsequently befall anyone in the Vale of Casphairn, it will be laid at your door. And the Cynsters will come after you." He paused, then added, his voice still even and low: "You should also bear in mind that we've centuries of experience in asking for no permissions, but exacting vengeance swiftly-and looking i

Exactly which one of them Dougal Douglas found more intimidating would have been hard to say. With a dismissive gesture, Richard waved him away. Cradling his wrist, he stumbled to his feet, then lurched off to catch his horse, which was ambling off down the valley.

Richard heard an odd sound from beside him-something between a snort and a cough, crossed with a disgusted humph. He wondered whether his witchy wife was fixing her curse on Dougal Douglas, but decided he didn't need to know-didn't want to know.

He whistled, and Thunderer came ambling up, heartened by his brisk ride. Turning, Richard saw Algaria trotting up, leading Catriona's mare. Draping an arm about Catriona's shoulders, he steered her to the mare.