Chapter 7 #2
By this time, Cat was nearly level with him at the doorway, and still he hadn’t moved aside. “If you don’t mind, sir.”
Thane looked down at her and seemed about to say something. Cat instinctively raised her chin in preparation to argue whatever point she’d be forced to defend…and realized that they were practically standing chest to chest, close enough to kiss.
Not that she wanted to kiss him, of course.
Just the thought of it sent her into a fit of anger, heralded by the heat in her chest and cheeks, a pounding heartbeat, and the urge to run…
anywhere. That was anger, wasn’t it? Or was it nervousness?
She often felt lightheaded before speaking publicly.
But this was hardly public. It was very, very private. Only her and Thane…
Who was still looking at her, his expression intent but his thoughts obscured. What was he looking at, his gaze practically down to her décolletage?
Oh. Of course. Her necklace. She nearly always wore a tiny pendant that was the twin of a charm Brodie always carried. Thane must have noticed the similarity.
She put her fingers to the pendant. “We got them on our thirteenth birthday. You know Brodie wore his on his watch chain. But I’ve always worn mine as a necklace.”
Thane nodded wordlessly. Then, all at once, he stepped to the side and back into the room, leaving the doorway wide open. “Out you go. Enjoy the afternoon.”
“That’s it? No warnings to look for assassins? Or suspicious crows hired as co-conspirators, perhaps?”
“A group of crows is called a murder, so if you notice a large gathering, be alert.”
Cat refused to laugh. “And what will you do now? Find another place to lurk?”
“I’ll think of something, Miss Ross.” He walked toward the door to the hallway, but then turned back. “Don’t leave the garden.”
“It’s walled.”
“Knowing you, you’d climb over. Promise me you’ll stay on the property.”
“All you demand is my promise?” Now she did laugh, unable to believe he was relying on such a flimsy protection.
“I know you’ll keep any promise you make. Brodie always did.”
The words hit her hard, choking off her mirth. She nodded. “Very well. I’ll stay here in the garden until tea, unless I come back inside the house for some reason.”
“Good enough.” Thane left her feeling more unsettled than ever.
The garden was green, even at this time of year, mostly thanks to the verdant emerald moss that flourished in the shady spots, and the lighter green of lichen clinging to the stone of the house.
Her mother had instructed the staff to not disturb these often-maligned plants.
If they’re strong enough to survive Scottish winters, they deserve their place, she’d said.
Cat took a deep breath, glanced down at the papers in her hands, and then began to recite her speech.
* * * *
Thane allowed Catriona through to the garden, resolving to come back in a quarter hour just to make sure she didn’t try to slip out like the little minx she was. Wait, did minxes slip? What actually was a minx anyway? Was it an animal? And if it was, were there any in Scotland?
Ever since he met Catriona, Thane found himself pondering such daft questions.
The woman could turn any normal, logical man into a complete mess.
Thane sometimes wondered if his brain had turned to oatmeal—arguing with her tended to make him feel like an idiot, and they argued constantly.
Like the stupid discussion about whether he was blocking the door.
He hadn’t meant to block the way, and he surely hadn’t meant to blather about murders of crows.
The idea just popped out, because his damn mind was too focused on the expanse of enticingly soft skin above the edge of her gown.
God, she was far too fair to be so cold.
Thank Christ she’d assumed his attention was snared by her necklace rather than the rise of her breasts. And the reminder of the necklace’s twin charm did work to snap him out of his daze. Christ, Brodie’s sister. This was not a woman he ought to be having such thoughts about.
He paced through the house aimlessly, but he was back in the parlor even before the quarter hour was up. He told himself he was just being careful. He was here to protect her, after all.
When Thane heard Cat’s voice, he almost darted past the doors, certain she was talking to someone. But then he saw her walking alone, in a little circle, speaking to herself.
“…it is an essential fact of Nature that there is virtually no difference between the sexes in matters of survival. Male or female, all beings must eat, and find shelter, and defend themselves from attack. Why should we pretend that it is different in our so-called modern society?” Cat inhaled, then went on, “Women must be free to see to their own needs, whether that need is as minor as a meal, or as significant as the selection of a mate. Women are not appendages to men, but fully independent beings in their own right, and expecting of respect….wait, no, demanding of respect? No, damn and blast, what comes next?”
“A thrashing, if you’d said all that in my father’s hearing,” Thane said, now strolling out to the garden. “He never took it well when anyone upset his view of the world.”
Cat looked up from the sheaf of notepapers in her hands, her eyes wide and her mouth falling open. “Excuse me, but I do not wish an audience!”
“Why the hell not? You’re rehearsing a speech, aren’t you? Not much point in speaking to an empty room…well, garden.”
“I’m not ready yet,” she protested, her cheeks pinking up. “I haven’t even memorized the words.”
“If you don’t mind some advice, you might be able to concentrate on the words better if you’re not treading a hole in the ground.”
“Oh, you’re here to help, are you?” Cat asked, her eyes narrowing as she put her hands on her hips. She looked annoyed, but also frankly somewhat panicked.