"I had no choice."

"Aye, you did. If you'd chosen Chatsworth, you probably would've been a widow soon."

She shook her head. "I could not abide him, even one night."

"Can you abide me one night?"

"I do not know. Mayhap."

"One night then." At her desk he took out a piece of paper, dipped a quill into the inkpot and started writing.

"What are you doing?"

"Drawing up a contract. If I get my 'member' approved as healthy by a physician, then you must give me a whole night in your bed. Or you can come to mine. And not for sleeping. Is my meaning clear, or do I need to spell it out?"

"If this is part of your seduction, it is sorely lacking."

"Do you want seduction or honesty?"

"Both," she blurted. Merde! She covered her mouth.

"Ah." His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Well then, the lady has made her desires known. Duly noted."

"I spoke in haste. I did not mean it."

"No need to explain." He continued writing and the realization struck her that he must indeed be well-educated if he could scribe with such speed. "I only need your signature here." He presented her with the paper and pointed to the bottom.

She read his scratchy script. I, Angelique, wife of Lachlan, agree to one full night, from nine in the evening until nine in the morning in the same bed with Lachlan for purposes of sexual pleasure, under any name, coupling, swiving, procreation, if he brings signed documentation of his sexual health and absence of any diseases, signed by a physician. And if I spend the night with him as described above, I may accompany him to visit neighboring clan chiefs and their wives. He had signed as a witness.

"Damn you," she muttered, strode to the desk and signed. "Là. C'est fini." She shoved the paper toward him and threw the quill onto the desk.

He smiled like a fox with a hen in its jaws. "Merci, belle ange." Blowing the paper to dry the ink, he approached the door.

"I want a signed and sealed testimony from the physician, the one in the nearby village."

Lachlan bowed. "Anything else, my queen?"

"Hmph."

***

"What the hell is going on at Draughon?" Kormad stood before the fireplace in the drafty, dark great hall of Burnglen.

MacFie, who'd just returned from scouting, strode across the worn out rushes. "I didn't see the men you left there, m'laird."

"Damnation!" Those had been some of his bravest, most canny men. He had few left. Pike was out of his head with fever. Several of the others were witless, good for no more than mucking out stalls. What he needed were the Drummagan men as his own. And if he were their chief it would be so. "Did my men flee the castle like rabbits? Are they dead? In Draughon's dungeon?"

"I don't ken, sir."

"Send out Murray and Rusty to look for them. Keep three men posted to watch Draughon at all times. If they get a chance to kill MacGrath or the wench tell them to do it!"

"Aye, m'laird."

Something thumped off to the side. Kormad turned to find his wee, fair-haired nephew partially hidden behind a chair, wide curious eyes locked on him.

"Timmy." Kormad crossed the room, sat down in the chair and held out his hand. The lad rose and crept to him. He looked so much like Kormad's sister, each glimpse of those innocent blue eyes was like a kick in the gut. "Don't fret, Timmy. I'll put everything to rights. You will inherit the title and lands your father denied you. You will one day be earl of Draughon and chief of Clan Drummagan." But I will be first, so that I can secure it for you.

And the Drummagan wench would pay for her father's sins.

***

Early the next morn, Lachlan passed Dirk, Rebbie and several clansmen breaking their fast in the great hall. Too late, he realized he should've made good his escape through the servants' back entrance so as to not rouse curiosity.

"A good morn to you," Lachlan called when they spotted him, then headed toward the exit.

"Where are you off to with such haste?" Rebbie called, his voice echoing off the high ceiling.

Lachlan paused. They awaited his response, all their eyes upon him.

He refused to let them know he was going to the physician or what rubbish Angelique demanded of him, blast her hide. He was a supreme, shining example of an indulgent husband, and she should be thankful for him and his leniency.

He gave a tight grin. "I shall be back in a trice."

Rebbie rose and followed him to the door, curious eyes locked upon him.

"'Tis naught but an errand for my lady wife," Lachlan said in a low voice. Hell, if Rebbie got wind of this, Lachlan would never live it down.

"What sort of errand?"

"Naught to worry about. Continue with your meal."

Rebbie shrugged and returned to the table. Lachlan hurried to the stables and saddled a horse, while the stable lads scurried about bringing him what he required. He hoisted himself into the saddle, kicked the horse into a gallop and rode away from the castle.

Twenty minutes later, after cursing Angelique the whole way, he dismounted before the physician's cottage in the nearby village. 'Twould be easier to get this over with here than have Doctor Ellis come to the castle where everyone would want to know the purpose of his visit. A light rain misted his hair and he glanced up at the low-hanging gray clouds. Aye, 'twas good to be in Scotland again.

Fast hoof-beats approached on the castle road and he curled a hand around his sword hilt.

Dirk and Rebbie raced around the curve toward him.

Damnation!

They drew up even with him, their mounts snorting and kicking up clumps of black mud. "What the devil are you doing riding out alone?" Dirk asked. "Kormad would like naught better than to ambush you."

"I am always on guard against such. And I don't fear him." Lachlan had two pistols and a sword on his belt.

"What are you doing here, at the physician? Are you ill?" Rebbie asked.

"Nay. Never mind. Just don't tell anyone I came here."

"Only if you tell us the truth."

"Damn you," Lachlan muttered, turning away.

Rebbie laughed. "Come on then, out with it. Are you needing a potion to enhance your virility?"

Dirk snickered.

"After the thorough bedding you gave her in London, I would've never guessed." Rebbie was determined to grind salt into his wound.

"Nay, I have no need of a potion," Lachlan growled. He released a long breath. "Angelique kens of my reputation with the ladies so she wishes assurance I don't have... a disease."

Dirk and Rebbie guffawed and almost toppled to the ground. Their horses stamped and danced about.

"'Tis not funny. Now, don't be telling anyone or I'll no longer associate with the two of you bastards." Lachlan knocked on the door.

***

A half hour later, Lachlan closed the same door behind him on the way out, feeling more violated than he had in his life. He cringed. Doctor Ellis had examined his member beneath a magnifier. And checked every other part of his body while he was at it. The man had inspected the hair on Lachlan's head for thickness and sniffed his breath. With some of the prodding and squeezing he did, if the man hadn't been a professional, Lachlan would've cut off his fingers.

Lachlan stuffed the damnable signed and sealed document into his doublet, glad to see the rain had stopped.