Neither brother said another word until they were well away from the keep. Then Patrick repeated what he'd heard. Iain wasn't surprised. "It's a hell of a mess," Patrick muttered.

Iain agreed. It was one hell of a mess.

It took Judith almost an hour to clean up. The topic of Iain kept coming up. Frances Catherine was determined to make Judith admit she was already in love with Iain, and Judith was just as determined not to admit any such thing.

"You should be helping me get over this attraction," Judith insisted. "Do you realize how painful it's going to be for me to leave? I have to go back, Frances Catherine. It doesn't matter if I want to or not. This topic is most distressing for me. I don't wish to talk about it any longer."

Frances Catherine was immediately contrite. She could tell her friend was close to tears. She patted Judith's shoulder. "All right," she said, her voice a soothing whisper. "We won't talk about it. Now then, help me change my gown. I'm going up to the keep with you. Heaven only knows what the council's wanting. There has to be trouble brewing."

Judith stood up. "You're staying home. I'll go by myself. I promise to tell you everything that happens."

Frances Catherine was having none of that. She was determined to stand beside Judith in the event of trouble.

Judith was just as determined to make her friend stay put. Patrick came inside in the middle of their disagreement. He tried to get their attention with a word of greeting, and when that didn't work, he arrogantly raised his hand for silence.

They ignored him. "You always were as stubborn as a mule," Frances Catherine told her friend.

Patrick was appalled. "You mustn't talk to our guest like that," he ordered.

"Why not? She just called me worse."

Judith smiled. " 'Tis the truth, I did," she admitted sheepishly.

"Do stay out of this, Patrick," his wife suggested. "I'm just warming to this argument. I'm going to win. It's my turn."

Judith shook her head. "No, you're not going to win," she countered. "Patrick, please make her stay here. I have to go up to the keep. I won't be gone long."

She hurried out of the cottage before her friend could continue the argument. It would be up to Patrick to keep her home.

Judith knew she was probably late and Iain would surely be irritated, but she really wasn't worried about his temper. On the way up the steep hill she thought about that amazing fact. Iain was such a big, fierce-looking warrior, and his gigantic size alone should have turned her hair gray by now. She remembered feeling a little nervous the very first time she had seen him crossing the drawbridge to her uncle Tekel's home. The feeling had quickly vanished, however, and she had never, ever felt trapped or helpless when she was with him. Iain's manner was as gruff as a bear's, yet each time he touched her, he was very gentle.

Uncle Tekel frightened her. The realization popped into her mind all at once. She didn't understand why she was afraid of him. Her uncle was an invalid who had to be carried about on a litter from place to place. As long as she stayed out of striking distance, he couldn't hurt her. Yet whenever she had been forced to sit beside him, she had always been afraid.

His cruel words still had the power to hurt her, she admitted. She wished she was stronger and not so vulnerable. Then he couldn't hurt her. If she could learn how to protect her feelings, if she could learn to separate her mind from her heart, she wouldn't care what her uncle Tekel said to her. Nor would she care if she ever saw Iain again… if she were stronger.

Oh, what did it matter? She was going to have to go home, and Iain was certainly going to marry someone else. He would probably be very happy, too, as long as he could order his wife around for the rest of his life.

She let out a groan of disgust. Thinking about Iain kissing any other woman made her stomach hurt.

God help her, she was acting like a woman in love. She shook her head. She was far too intelligent to allow her heart to be crushed. She wasn't that ignorant, was she?

She burst into tears. She was racked with heart-wrenching sobs in a matter of seconds. She couldn't make herself stop. She blamed Frances Catherine for her shameful condition because she had prodded and prodded until Judith had finally been forced to confront the truth.

Judith moved off the path as a precaution against someone coming along and seeing her distress, and even hid behind a fat pine.

"Good Lord, Judith, what happened?"

Patrick's voice made her groan. She took a step back.

He followed her. "Did you injure yourself?" he asked, his concern obvious.

She shook her head. "You weren't supposed to see me," she whispered. She wiped her face dry with the backs of her hands and took several deep breaths to calm herself.

"I didn't see you," Patrick explained. "I heard you."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What are you sorry for?"

"For being loud," she answered. "I only wanted a few minutes of privacy, but that isn't possible here, is it?"

She sounded downright pitiful. Patrick wanted to comfort her. She was his wife's dearest friend, and he felt it was his duty to try to make her feel better. He put his arm around her shoulders and gently turned her back to the path.

"Tell me what's wrong, Judith. No matter how terrible this problem seems to be, I'm certain I can correct it for you."

It was an extremely arrogant thing to say, but then, he was Iain's brother, after all, and some of his arrogance would surely dribble down to his sibling, she supposed. He was trying to be good-hearted, and for that reason alone she wasn't irritated.

"You cannot correct this," she told him. "But I thank you for offering."

"You can't know what I can do until you explain."

"All right," she agreed. "I've only just realized how ignorant I am. Can you correct that?"

His smile was gentle. "You aren't ignorant, Judith."

"Oh yes I am," she cried out. "I should have protected myself." She didn't go on.

"Judith?"

"Never mind. I don't wish to discuss this."

"You shouldn't be weeping, not today of all days," Patrick told her.

She mopped at the corners of her eyes again. "Yes, it is a beautiful day, and I shouldn't be crying." She took another deep breath. "You can let go of me now. I've recovered."

He removed his arm from her shoulder and walked by her side up to the crest of the hill and across the courtyard. Patrick had one more errand to complete before he went inside. He bowed to Judith and started to turn away.

"Do I look like I've been weeping?" she asked him in a worried tone.

"No," he lied.

She smiled. "Thank you for helping me sort through this problem," she said.

"But I didn't-"

He quit his protest when she turned and ran up the steps to the keep. He shook his head in confusion and turned back toward the hill.

Judith didn't knock. She took a deep breath before pulling the heavy door wide and hurrying on inside.

The interior of the keep was just as cold and ugly as the exterior. The entrance was wide, with gray stone floors, and a staircase built against the wall to the right of the double doors. The great hall was on her left. It was huge in size and as drafty as an open meadow. A stone hearth took up a fair portion of the wall opposite the entrance. There was a fire blazing away, but it didn't warm the room. There was more smoke than heat circulating in the hall.

There weren't any of the aromas usual in a home, like the smell of bread baking or meat sizzling over a flame, nor was there any clutter of personal possessions to indicate someone actually lived here. The hall was as stark as a monastery.

Five steps led down into the room. Judith waited at the top for Iain to notice her. He was sitting with his back to her at the head of a long narrow table. Five older men Judith assumed were the members of the council were huddled together at the opposite end.