Falling in Time Read Free

the temptress who haunted his dreams, but if he could locate the man
whose name she cried in passion, he might just find her. Only then would he
know peace.
    He’d make her his, insisting she
wed him.
    And if she refused or – saints
preserve him – for some reason wasn’t able, he’d finally bend to his father’s
will and accept a suitable bride of his family’s choosing.
    He just hoped she wouldn’t be
Euphemia MacNairn, his clan’s current favorite.
    She was such a wee slip o’
womanhood that a man could blink and miss her presence in a room.
    But her tongue was sharper than the
best-honed sword.
    A fault she kept well hidden,
though Rogan had no trouble seeing through her false praise and simpering airs.
Her eyes, when she thought no one saw her, held a chill colder than the
blackest winter night. And – Rogan shuddered - he’d rather guzzle brine than
take her to wife, even if her sire was his father’s staunchest ally.
    At least the thought of her
banished the painful throbbing at his loins.
    Grateful, Rogan hastened from his
bedchamber. But before he reached the stair tower, a dark shape stepped from
the shadows, blocking his way.
    “Ho, Rogan!" His cousin
Gavin’s smile was crooked. “Such a scowl!  Are you on your way belowstairs to
announce that the sun willna be rising on the morrow? Or” – he waggled his
eyebrows – “have you been dreaming of her again?”
    “Her?" Rogan pretended
innocence.
    Gavin laughed. “Unless you cease
blethering about the vixen each time you sink into your cups, you cannae think
I know naught of her!”
    “I ne’er sink into my cups ."
Rogan tried to push past his cousin, but the lout shot out a hand, seizing his
elbow in a viselike grip.
    “Once was enough." Gavin
leaned close and winked, clearly amused. “Truth tell” – he flashed a glance
over his shoulder and then lowered his voice – “if such a lush piece invaded my
dreams, I stay abed all my days.”
    “You’ll hold your tongue is what
you’ll do." Rogan shook free and glared at him. “Lest you wish me to
silence it for you?”
    He reached for the dirk that should
have been tucked beneath his belt, but remembered too late that he’d tossed on
his plaid and nothing else.
    Gavin caught the gesture all the
same.
    Unfortunately, it only drew another
laugh.
    “I but speak the truth." The
lout had the gall to clamp a hand on Rogan’s shoulder.
    “Why are you skulking about in the
shadows?" Rogan changed the subject.
    “I was- … er, ah… visiting Maili."
Gavin released him and brushed at his plaid. “You might be of a better temper,
too, if you’d partake of her services now and then.”
    “I haven’t tumbled a laundress
since I grew my first beard." Rogan stepped away from the cold wind
blowing through an arrow slit in the stair tower’s thick walling. The chill
reminded him of the coldness of his empty bed.
    He did his best to assume an air of
importance. “I have no time for such frivol. Some of us have weightier matters
to attend, see you.”
    “In the middle o’ the night?" Gavin
looked close to laughter again.
    “Snorri’s gone missing,” Rogan
improvised, seizing the first thought that came to his mind.
    His dog was out and about
somewhere.
    And considering the beast’s age and
bad hip, his disappearance from Rogan’s bedchamber was troubling. Snorri rarely
left Rogan’s side. He even shunned his comfortable pallet by the hearth fire to
sneak into Rogan’s bed, often sleeping sprawled across Rogan’s ankles.
    It wasn’t like the dog to be
missing at this late hour.
    Though – Rogan was sure – the
well-loved scamp had no doubt crept down to the kitchens where he was known to
beg meaty bones and other tidbits from Cook and the kitchen laddies.
    Even so, if Snorri hadn’t returned
by morning, he’d launch a search.
    “I was just heading out to look for
Snorri now." Rogan started forward again.
    He wasn’t about to tell Gavin he
was on his way to ask his father’s men