"Her heart?"

"Her heart is as pure as an angel's, and so is her smile, but it's her mind, you see, that's giving me trouble. I'm thinking there's something wrong with it, but I'm not coming right out and saying there is. Mi'lady isn't like all the other ladies hereabouts. She thinks like a man, a clever man, and how was I to know? She never once lied to me. No, Laird, she didn't."

"Then why did you allow her to take the black?"

"Her smile."

"You'll go around and around again the more you ask Davis. It always comes back to mi'lady's smile," Quinlan said.

"And her heart, of course, because when she smiles, I can see she's as pure as an angel…"

Connor cut him off. "Davis, I suggest you leave the stables immediately. Come back after I've left, not before."

The old man didn't have to be told more than once. He moved with the speed of a man who had just noticed the back of his pants were on fire.

"Am I supposed to order my wife to stop smiling?"

"It might help," Quinlan suggested with a straight face. "You'll also have to order her to stop thinking like a man."

"What in God's name does that mean?"

"She's more intelligent than Davis."

"Is she more intelligent than you, Quinlan?"

The soldier let out a sigh. "I'm not certain. She is definitely cleverer, however."

"She scared the hell out of me."

"I'm familiar with the feeling."

Neither man knew who started laughing first, but within seconds, they were overcome with amusement. Connor thought he was laughing because he was so relieved his wife hadn't killed herself. Quinlan knew exactly why he was laughing. Crispin was going to get stuck with their mistress the next time their laird left the holding, and he couldn't wait to find out what she would do under his watch.

Brenna and Crispin both heard the noise. She couldn't help but think she was the cause of their amusement, yet just as soon as Crispin noticed how crushed she looked, he casually said, "Don't be concerned, mi'lady. Neither Connor nor Quinlan would laugh at Davis, or anyone else for that matter. It would be beneath them."

"Were you worried I thought they were laughing at me? I was," she admitted before he had time to answer her. "But, it would be beneath me to think my husband or his friend would behave in such a fashion. I think I know why they're having such a fine time," she added.

"And what might that be, mi'lady?"

"Even though Connor won't admit it to me, I think he enjoyed my surprise. Just wait until he sees the other ones."

"The other ones?" Crispin asked in a hoarse whisper.

"The other surprises, of course."

For some reason she didn't understand, Crispin found her comment hilarious. She patted his arm to let him know she didn't mind and then decided that perhaps it was all the laughter coming from inside that tickled his bones so and got him started.

Of all the men, Connor was the first to gain control of himself. "I'll have a word with my wife later," he promised his friend. "Answer one last question for me before we go outside. Are there any more?"

"Any more what?"

"Surprises."

"Only one that I know of."

Connor looked as if he was going to drop to his knees. Quinlan quickly explained. "It's nothing to worry about. She made a few minor improvements in the great hall that are harmless. I saw the room this morning," he added with a nod.

"You'd better be right," his laird muttered before he reached for the door latch.

"It's going to take me a week to get over seeing my wife on the black. Every time I think about it, I shake like an old man. I keep picturing her flying across the meadow…"

He couldn't go on. He shook his head as if to rid himself of the thought, realized his hand was shaking even now, and let out a loud sigh in frustration.

Quinlan also pictured his mistress riding the stallion, and though he also knew it would take him a long time to recover, he also recognized the skill she'd shown.

Connor was just pulling the door open when he whispered to Quinlan, "She's good, isn't she."

She was in for it now.

The very first words out of her husband's mouth when he came outside the stables indicated she had crossed that imaginary line inside his mind that separated what could be touched and what couldn't. Apparently he believed the black stallion belonged to him, and only him.

She would, of course, beg to differ, but she was intelligent enough to wait until he'd gotten over his fury.

"I would like to have a word with you in private, Brenna."

"Certainly," she replied, trying her best to look mildly interested and curious, and not at all concerned. She realized almost immediately she hadn't taken the right approach, and changed her attitude to one of indignation.

"I'm glad of it, Connor. It's about time you gave your wife a private moment. When exactly would it be convenient for you to speak to me?"

Her ploy didn't work. "If you don't want me to know you're nervous, you shouldn't back away from me. I would also suggest you stop looking over your shoulder for a means of escape."

She glanced at Crispin to see how he was reacting to his laird's intimidating tactics and was thankful the soldier didn't seem to be paying any attention at all. His gaze was directed at the bottom of the hill as if he were absolutely fascinated by something he was watching there.

Quinlan, however, was hanging on Connor's every word. He still looked a little too complacent to suit her. Not only did he know she was about to catch Connor's thunder, he was glad of it. Didn't the man have anything better to do than follow her around and report her every action to her husband? Apparently he didn't. Although it was probably unkind of her, she made note of the similarity between the soldier and her old nursemaid, Elspeth, who also took delight in telling on Brenna.

"I want this private moment alone with you now," Connor announced.

He waited for her agreement before instructing Crispin and Quinlan to join him for the evening meal, then started back up the hill toward the keep with Brenna at his side.

"My surprise didn't make you happy, did it?"

His snort was all the answer she required. "Are you upset because Willie belongs to you and you don't want anyone else riding him?"

"How many times did you fall?"

Since she was almost certain Quinlan gave him a detailed accounting of her activities, she decided to be completely honest. "So many times I lost count."

"What do you think would have happened if you had been carrying my son?"

She looked thunderstruck, for the possibility had apparently never entered her mind.

"I'm not. I only just finished… I'm not."

"Finished what?"

"Finished realizing I can't be carrying your child yet. I would never deliberately put our baby in jeopardy."

"And you will never ride the black again, will you?"

"Not even with a saddle?"

"The horse has never had a saddle on his back, and I assure you, he wouldn't like it. It's out of the question."

"All right then. Was there anything else you wanted to mention…or do?"

"Don't ever call him Willie again."

She could tell he wasn't going to change his mind. "I won't," she promised before blurting out, "Do you know you haven't kissed me once since you've been back? I cannot help but wonder if you've even thought of it."

He hadn't thought about much else, but he wasn't about to admit it. "We haven't been alone. Remind me tonight, and I'll kiss you then."

She didn't realize he was teasing her. "I'll probably forget," she assured him. "It really doesn't matter to me one way or another."

"Yes, it does. Watch where you're going. Some of the holes haven't been filled yet."