Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“But Lady Catriona, surely the nuns at Pluscarden Priory must have been dull company fer a woman such as yersel’,” Kenneth was saying in a honeyed voice, his words accompanied by a smile.
The look in the man’s eyes made Malcolm grind his teeth.
Catriona, looking like a queen in a gown of willow green that set off her coppery hair to perfection, smiled at Kenneth politely.
“Och, nae at all, me laird. The nuns are wonderful people, and the priory is a very peaceful place tae live.”
“I’m sure it is, but d’ye nae find that peace grows tedious after a while?” Kenneth asked, leaning slightly closer. “I imagine many men would gladly risk a war tae rescue a beauty such as ye from such a place.”
Malcolm’s grip tightened around his goblet as jealousy lanced through him. Glancing across the table, he saw Ewan had noticed his discomfiture and was clearly enjoying it, hiding a grin behind his tankard.
Worse, he realized from her smiling glance his way that Catriona had noticed as well, for he saw a glint of humor in her eyes. He was only very slightly mollified when she dipped her eyes and answered Kenneth’s flirtatious remark with matter-of-factly humility.
“I fear ye overestimate me charms, me laird.”
“Och, I have tae take issue with ye there, Lady Catriona,” Kenneth replied smoothly. “If anythin’, I’d say I underestimate them.”
Malcolm’s jaw flexed.
“Kenneth,” he said evenly, “ye’ll frighten the lass away entirely if ye continue flatterin’ her so relentlessly.”
Kenneth laughed easily and leaned back in his chair. “Forgive me. I‘m only sayin’ what I see.”
Beside him, Sorcha Forbes rolled her bright blue eyes. “Pay him nay mind,” she told Catriona. “He’s an incorrigible flirt.”
Kenneth placed a dramatic hand against his chest in mock offence. “That is a cruel slander, Sister.”
Sorcha ignored him completely and turned back to Catriona with interest. “Catriona, I’ve heard that ye used tae work in the priory infirmary. Is that right?”
Malcolm saw relief in Catriona’s eyes at the change of subject to one she enjoyed talking about. She nodded and smiled at Sorcha, a comely lass with chestnut hair and blue eyes.
“Aye, I did,” she replied.
Sorcha’s face brightened. “Then ye’ve knowledge of healin’ herbs?”
“A fair amount, aye.”
“Och, thank God,” Sorcha sighed theatrically. “At last, someone I can have a proper conversation with. If I havetae endure another endless discussion of cattle and land and fightin’, I think I’ll go mad.”
Catriona laughed, flashing an amused look Malcom’s way. “Well, I’m glad ye feel that way, Sorcha. I’ll happily talk about herbs and healin’ until the cows come home, but I havenae had the chance much lately.”
Sorcha’s face lit up with genuine curiosity as she leaned closer. “Tell me, Catriona, what remedies did the sisters favor fer curin’ a fever?”
Malcolm watched covertly as the two women fell into animated conversation, glad to see Kenneth’s attempts to capture Catriona’s attention stymied, for the moment at least.
Kenneth groaned dramatically as they chattered on. “There they go.”
“Quiet,” Sorcha and Catriona said together, making everyone at the table who heard them burst into laughter, including Kenneth. Even Malcolm had to smile.
And God help him, watching Catriona talking so animatedly and laughing freely beside Sorcha filled him with aching affection. Despite living in fear for so many years as the quarry of a ruthless, relentless hunter, she was radiant and full of life.
Unfortunately, Kenneth was not going to give up so easily it seemed. He took a long drink of wine before asking casually, “How came ye tae healin’ in the first place, Lady Catriona?”
Her expression softened. “Me sister-in-law Elaina taught me much when I was younger,” she said.
“She is skilled with herbs and remedies.” A shadow briefly crossed her lovely features.
“After Sinclair began pursuin’ me, I was sent tae the priory fer safety.
Because I already had some knowledge, the sisters allowed me tae work in the infirmary there. ”
Sorcha’s smooth brow crinkled. “Och, that must have been very difficult fer ye, I mean havin’ tae leave yer home like that.”
“Aye, it was at first,” Catriona replied with her usual understatement. “But the work gave me purpose. I told mesel’ that if I couldnae have me freedom, I was safe and could at least still be useful tae others.”
Malcolm’s chest tightened painfully at the quiet honesty in her voice.
She still thinks her worth depends on earnin’ her place.
To his chagrin, Kenneth was studying her again, his light-blue eyes filled with fresh interest. “And yet ye seem tae have endured it with remarkable grace,” he remarked, the admiration in his tone unmistakable.
Catriona smiled faintly and gave a small shrug. “I was grateful tae the sisters fer takin’ me in, and I felt I owed it tae them and mesel’ tae make the best of it. In difficult situations, ye dae what ye must tae survive.”
“Ye’re too modest, Catriona. Ye did more than just survive, ye thrived,” Malcolm said before he could stop himself.
Her eyes lifted to his, and for one suspended moment, the hall around them seemed to fade.
Then Sorcha spoke again, mercifully breaking the tension.
“Ye must show me yer herb garden while we’re here, Catriona,” she said eagerly. “Kenneth refuses tae listen when I speak of medicinal plants.”
“That’s because they mostly smell and taste foul,” Kenneth informed her.
“Medicine isnae meant tae be pleasant,” Catriona countered laughingly. “In fact, Sister Mairi at the priory used tae say that the nastier it is, the better it is fer ye.”
Kenneth sniffed. “Then I’ll continue avoidin’ it whenever possible.”
With a long-suffering look, Sorcha nudged him with her elbow. Catriona laughed again, the sound warm and genuine. Malcolm found himself staring at her, until Ewan kicked him under the table. Hard.
Though he supposed he ought to be grateful to his brother, Malcolm shot him a glare. It made no difference, for Ewan only smirked back at him shamelessly.
The evening wore on, with music and wine flowing freely. Kenneth and Malcolm eventually turned the talk towards the details of the new alliance between the Gordons and the Forbes. The articles of the agreement had already been drawn up in duplicate and were ready to sign.
But however hard Malcolm tried to keep his mind on business matters, his attention kept drifting helplessly back toward Catriona.
Toward the brightness in her eyes, the curve of her lips, the rich, musical sound of her laugh. Sometimes, he still could not believe she was really here. Safe. With him.
More than once she glanced across the table and caught him watching her. A slow, telltale warmth would spread across her face then, and Malcolm’s pulse would stutter.
He had tried so hard to do the right thing, to stop himself from falling for her. But he knew he was already too far gone. And for the first time since he could remember, the notion no longer terrified him.
The Great Hall slowly emptied around them as the evening drew to a close. Servants moved between the tables collecting goblets and trenchers while the last of the musicians packed away their instruments near the hearth.
Kenneth Forbes had been drawn into another conversation with Ewan beside the fire, while Sorcha lingered nearby speaking animatedly with one of the castle women about herbs that grew along the eastern hills.
Catriona slipped quietly from the hall, grateful for a moment’s peace after the noise and warmth inside.
The corridor beyond was cooler and dimly lit by oil lamps set in sconces fixed to the walls. She had barely taken a few steps when a familiar voice stopped her.
“Cat.”
Her pulse fluttered instantly.
Malcolm stood a little farther down the corridor, half-shadowed against the stone wall.
He had removed his sword belt after supper, though the dark green of his coat and the tartan breacan, worn as a sash across his chest, still suited him unfairly well.
His broad shoulders nearly filled the narrow passage.
He was watching her with that same intense look that had unsettled her all evening.
A smile tugged faintly at her lips as she approached him. “There ye are. I was beginning tae think yer new ally had stolen ye away entirely.”
“Funny. I thought the same about ye,” he muttered dryly, though his mouth twitched.
She stopped before him, close enough to feel the warmth coming off his body, tilting her head back to meet his shadowed eyes.
For a moment neither of them spoke, but the air seemed to thicken around them.
Then Malcolm folded his arms across his chest and asked, with suspicious casualness, “So. Did ye enjoy Kenneth Forbes’s company at supper?”
Catriona blinked once. Then she nearly laughed, only just managing to stifle it.
“Och,” she said softly, a teasing edge to her voice, “is that what’s troubling ye?”
His brows drew together immediately. “Naethin’s troublin’ me.”
“Aye, of course nae.” Her smile widened slightly. “And I suppose ye were glowerin’ across the supper table all evenin’ purely by coincidence?”
“I wasnae glowerin’.”
“Malcolm Gordon,” she said, fighting laughter now, “ye looked ready tae challenge the poor man tae a duel over the roast venison.”
His jaw tightened, which only confirmed her suspicions further.
“He was flirtin’ with ye.”
The blunt honesty of it startled her enough that her amusement softened. “Aye,” she admitted gently. “He was.”
Malcolm looked away briefly, rubbing a hand along his cleanshaven jaw.
“I ken Kenneth,” he muttered. “He enjoys pretty women and hearin’ himself speak.”
Catriona tilted her head to one side. “Is that meant tae reassure me?”
His eyes flicked back to hers. “Nay,” he admitted.
The quiet possessiveness beneath the words sent warmth curling through her chest.
She stepped a little closer. “Well then, if it eases yer mind any, Laird Kenneth seems perfectly pleasant…”
Malcolm’s expression darkened immediately.
“…but he isnae the man I’m interested in impressin’.”
Silence settled between them. Malcolm simply stared at her. And though his expression barely shifted, she saw it nonetheless—that subtle easing around his eyes, the tension loosening slightly from his shoulders.
Relief.
The realization filled her with such tenderness she almost reached for him then and there. Instead she said softly, “Ye hide yer feelings very poorly fer a man who prides himself on his control.”
A rough huff of laughter escaped him. “Only around ye it seems.”
The admission stole her breath for a moment.
Dear Lord, when did this man become capable of unravelin’ me so completely with only a few quiet words?
She lowered her gaze briefly, suddenly shy beneath the weight of his attention. Then she looked back up at him through her lashes. “Truth be told,” she said, “Kenneth’s attention didnae trouble me nearly as much as yer silence did.”
Malcolm frowned slightly. “Me silence?”
“At supper.” She hesitated. “Ye barely looked at me half the evening.”
He stared at her as though she had said something utterly absurd. “Cat,” he said slowly, “if I looked at ye any more than I already was, every person in that hall would have kenned exactly what passed between us last night.”
Heat rushed violently into her cheeks. “Och.”
His mouth curved faintly at her embarrassment. “I was tryin’ tae behave like a respectable laird fer yer benefit.”
“Well, if that’s the truth then I’m sorry tae say it was a poor effort,” she murmured.
“Apparently so.”
They both smiled then, the tension between them easing into something softer. Warmer.
Malcolm stepped closer until only inches separated them. The flickering torchlight caught the flecks of gold in those deep brown of his eyes as he looked down at her.
“It wasnae easy, Cat,” he said quietly.
“What wasnae?”
“Watchin’ another man flirt with ye.” The raw honesty in his voice stole every clever reply from her mind. There was no arrogance in him now. No teasing charm.
Only truth.
Catriona’s heart squeezed painfully. She reached for his hand before she could stop herself, her fingers curling gently around his.
“Malcolm…”
His thumb brushed slowly across her knuckles, sending thrills chasing up and down her skin beneath her gown.
“I ken I’ve little right tae jealousy,” he said softly. “We’ve scarcely spoken of what happens next between us. But Christ, Cat…” He gave a quiet shake of his head. “The thought of another man courtin’ ye makes me half mad.”
“Only half? I’m disappointed,” she murmured as warmth bloomed through her so fiercely it almost frightened her.
She watched his smile widen, thinking of all those years spent hidden away in the priory, living every day in fear of Torcall Sinclair finding her and carrying her off by force, a prize he had decided was his to claim.
And now, here stood a man, the most beautiful man in the world, looking at her as though losing her would wound him deeply.
She squeezed his hand gently. “There’s only one man I want lookin’ at me that way,” she whispered.
His gaze darkened instantly. For a moment, she thought he might kiss her right there in the corridor. Instead, Malcolm exhaled slowly, as though mastering himself was costing him an effort of will.
“We should part before I forget entirely that we’re standin’ in the middle of me castle where anyone could come upon us at any moment.”
A soft laugh escaped her. “A wise idea.”
“Aye.” Though he did not release her hand immediately. “I’ll see ye tomorrow, eh? Fer a whole new day of the pleasure of Kenneth’s company.”
“And Sorcha’s.” she said. “She’s very bonny.”
He shrugged, his gaze locked on hers. “I didnae notice.” He lifted her hand to his lips and, turning it over, placed a soft, lingering kiss on her palm before curling her fingers over the spot. Once again, heat lanced through her.
When he released her hand, she felt bereft.
It was so hard to part from him, and she dearly wished to repeat the previous glorious night they had spent together.
But with visitors in the castle they both knew without speaking the words that it was too risky.
She had already resigned herself to sleeping alone that night. Not that they had done much sleeping.
“Goodnight, Malcolm,” she whispered, her heart aching with love for him.
“Goodnight, lass. Sweet dreams, eh?” He leaned down and whispered, “Of me, I hope.”
“Likewise,” she replied, unable to help smiling.
With a huge effort, she forced herself to turn from him and walk back the way she had come, burningly aware of his gaze following her the entire way.
And though she did not look back, her smile lingered long after she reached the end of the corridor and turned towards the stairs.