“Watch this!” Broc demanded of her, turning to be sure she was watching. She gave him a smile and nod, and he turned again to watch his dog. Only, Merry Bells had been quicker than Broc had obviously anticipated. Just as he turned to await the animal, Merry Bells leapt high into the air. Behemoth and beast met face-to-face, and Page heard the sickening crack as Broc’s nose was broken by the impact of his dog’s snout against his face. She gasped in alarm as both Broc and his animal fell yelping backward.
She reined in at once to the sound of startled curses, and Angus’s great peal of laughter. Slipping from her mount, she hurried to inspect the fallen pair. Merry Bells, for her part, seemed startled but unharmed. The dog rolled at once from atop Broc and scurried away, tail between her legs. Broc, his face flush with embarrassment, and his nose bleeding, simply lay upon the ground, stupefied.
Page took pity upon him and kept her mirth bridled. Without hesitation, she lifted her gown and ripped a strip from her already tattered hem and then pressed it to Broc’s bleeding nostril. She was scarce aware of the crowd that gathered, some laughing, most suddenly too curious over her presence amongst them to do anything more than stare at the pair of them, Broc sprawled before her upon the ground, and her ministering to his wounds.
“Well, now, damn me to hell!” someone shouted. “Broc’s got himself a woman!”
“Broc’s got himself a woman?” another echoed, and the crowd suddenly began to close in about them.
“I’ll be hanged!” someone decreed, laughter in his voice. “No wonder puir Merry Bells just aboot took your nose off, ye cheatin’ whoreson! Ho! But damned if I can blame ye! She’s a damn sight bonnier than Merry Bells!”
Merry Bells sidled into the circle at that moment, shimmying under legs to reach her master. She came wagging her tail behind her, casting a black-eyed glance in Page’s direction, before scurrying over to Broc. The dog lapped his face hesitantly at first, and then eagerly, whining. Tail perking and wagging, she seemed to forget everything but her precious master in that moment.
“Looks to me like Broc’ll be sharing his bed wi’ two bitches tonight!”
Another round of bawdy laughter followed that remark, and Page’s cheeks flamed.
All of a sudden the gathering parted as Iain MacKinnon came toward her, his look dark and his stride purposeful.
Without a word, he bent low. Casting angry glances at his men, he snatched her up by the waist and tossed her unceremoniously over his shoulders. “She’ll damn well no’ be sharing Broc’s bed!” he declared to one and all, and then marched away, with Page clinging to his shoulders for dear life.
A hush fell over them all.
Openmouthed stares followed them.
Page’s cheeks burned hotter.
“While I certainly am grateful for the deliverance,” she remarked rather flippantly, pounding him once on the back for emphasis, “you might have gone about this with a little more civility!”
Aye, he might have, Iain acknowledged, but he’d lost his composure watching her with Broc. Och, but it wasn’t so much that she’d tended him so solicitously—aye, but it was! And still he might have dealt with it had the talk not turned toward bedding Broc! The image had wholly unsettled him, and he’d found himself handing Malcom into Glenna’s capable arms and marching toward them. He’d be damned if he’d let them mistake who she was.
She was his.
He wasn’t certain, precisely, at which moment he’d decided such a thing—whether it was in the instant after their loving, or after seeing her ride companionably beside Broc all afternoon, speaking low and laughing softly as would two lovers together. Never in his life had he felt such a stab of covetousness. Like some jealous beau, he’d had a difficult time keeping himself from maneuvering his mount betwixt the two, and commanding Broc away from her. Amazing, in such short time she’d managed to win Broc’s favor—the others, as well, with the exception of a few. He could tell by the way they looked upon her, and in the small ways they tried to shield her. He couldn’t believe how vehemently Broc had come to her defense.
Damn, but mayhap it was simply in watching her ride with his son that he came to the decision. He’d watched her smooth the hair back from Malcom’s face as she listened to him speak... like a mother with her beloved child, and his heart had thundered within his breast to see it. In that instant he’d wanted to snatch her up into his arms and love her madly.
Damned if he understood why he felt so.
He only knew that he wanted her.
And this moment, he wanted her badly enough not to care what anyone thought of his manners.