Morganna (The Brocade Collection, Book 4) Read Online Free PDF Page B

“It is truth. What reason would I have to lie?”
    “The same you use when lying to me about your other talents.”
    Morgan tried to pierce the fog he was hiding behind. Then, she shrugged. “I’ve not lied about them, either.”
    “ My quiver is short an arrow, and yonder roasting hare didn’t receive it. Beside which, it wouldn’t settle your puny belly’s hunger. You knew that, and you bagged bigger game. You took just one arrow to do it with because that’s all you’d need. Tell me I’m wrong.”
    He wasn ’t just bright. He was very bright, she thought. She’d better take care to remember that, most of all. She cleared her throat and tossed out an insult to change the subject. “You thinking to stay in there until you shrivel to walnuts? Although as small as you must be, it wouldn’t be far, would it?”
    “You saying something with that statement?” he asked, his voice just a bit lower than it had been. She smiled.
    “I am,” she replied. “And not without cause. I aimed well and accurately with my last blade. I hit nothing. You must have nothing.”
    There was the sound of laughter, a splash and Morgan waited.
    “ Have it your way, lad. The lasses have no complaints.”
    She rolled her eyes. He was the FitzHugh. Of course they had no complaints about bedding such a rich prize! She was going to take back what she’d thought about his being bright at this rate. “Perhaps you should take more educated lasses to your bed, then. They’d not be so easy to please, I think.”
    “ Why would I do such a stupid thing? When I take a lass to my bed, it’s to learn them. I don’t want some other man’s incompetence spoiling my fun. Besides, I like educating my own women. Give me a maiden any day, I’ll return her a courtesan.”
    “ You must have a problem finding, and keeping, servants to warm your bed with such a requirement,” she replied snidely.
    “Nay. They find my bed warm and inviting. Nary a complaint have I heard. I keep them until they’ve outlived their usefulness. Or until they whelp a bastard.”
    “You’ve sired bastards?” she asked, the shock filling her voice.
    “ Not yet. I’m careful with my seed.”
    Morgan hadn’t one reply she could voice. She didn’t even know what he was talking about, although she had a very good guess.
    “ Never you worry, lad, there’s lasses a-plenty in the world. There’ll even be a share for you, although you’ll not have first pick ’til your voice changes and you grow some hair on that bony chest of yours.”
    She was choking, but thanked God it didn’t make sound.
    “ Enough of this. There’s a response to such talk, and no woman handy to use it on. You’d best tell all, lad. I’m short on patience, lost most of my whiskey, have a head that wants to lift itself from my neck, and thistles that need pulled. You wish to keep your talents hidden? Fair enough. I’ll find out sooner or later, although I wouldn’t test it on me again, if I were you.”
    T he apparition-like body didn’t look like it had substance, let alone the threatening voice he was using. Morgan gulped.
    “I was na’ testing you,” she replied in a stiff tone that didn’t sound at all like her. She whipped the length of plaid cloth out, eyed a starting point and placed it against her waist. The cloth folded and draped as richly as she’d suspected it would. Morgan tucked it about her belt, double-folding the cloth at her front. Then, she bunched it into pleats all along the back, before bringing it forward again to pull the long end through her belt. She had enough to toss over her left shoulder, secure it through the back of the belt and make a short cape down her legs. She twisted her head to check the length, and noted with satisfaction that it brushed the backs of her calves, exactly where it should.
    “You was na’ just testing, you was showing it off. Had to be. Otherwise, you would ha’ killed me. Hand me a drying cloth.”
    She frowned at that,