Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Later that afternoon, before dusk fell, the rain finally eased. Craving time alone to think about Sorcha’s words, Catriona excused herself on the grounds that she needed some fresh air. Politeness made her ask Sorcha if she would like to accompany her, and was secretly grateful when she declined.
“Go on and get some fresh air. I’ll catch up on me readin’ until ’tis time tae dress fer supper. I’ll see ye there, and we can talk again,” Sorcha told her with a smile, picking up the discarded book and opening it at the marker.
Relieved at being so understood, Catriona thanked her sincerely then went to don her boots and cloak before finally making her way outside.
She looked around the courtyard, hoping to catch sight of Malcolm.
Disappointingly, she did not and wondered what he was doing at that moment.
She reminded herself how busy he was with fortifying the castle, but it did nothing to ease the hollow ache she felt inside at his absence.
Ach, stop yer mopin’.
With a sigh of resolve, she straightened her spine and set off across the courtyard, planning to take her usual route to the gardens.
Overhead, a pale lemon sun peeped out from behind scudding clouds.
A chilly upstart of a breeze tossed leaves and straw about the cobblestones in her path and snatched at her cloak.
“Brrr,” she murmured, wrapping it more tightly around her shoulders, whilst breathing deeply of the air, which smelled washed clean. On she walked, her boots whispering against the wet ground as she gazed about her, enjoying the rare brightness after two days of storms.
She was partway to the archway which led into the gardens when the sound of childish laughter caught her attention.
The cheerful sound made her pause, and she cast about her for its source.
She soon spied a small cluster of boys who were gathered beside an old wooden post hammered into the ground, each taking turns to try to toss a carved wooden ring over it.
Amused by how badly most of them missed their target yet admiring their undiminished enthusiasm at the same time, she drew closer.
She stood watching them, smiling at one of the boys when he noticed her. At least, that was what she thought, until his eyes snagged on something behind her and widened into saucers.
“’Tis the laird!” the boy giggled warningly to his fellows. The game ended immediately as the children scattered in every direction like startled rabbits.
Malcolm appeared at Catriona’s side, hands resting on his belt. He smelled delicious, of fresh air, soap, and a hint of sandalwood. She breathed him in, chuckling at his puzzled frown as he looked after the scampering children.
“What in God’s name was that all about?”
“They are bashful around ye,” Catriona smiled.
He snorted softly.
Smiling, she bent and picked up one of the abandoned rings. “What’s this game called?” she asked curiously, holding it up.
“Ring toss,” Malcolm replied, hands on hips. “A fiercely competitive sport amongst ten-year-olds.”
“Och, then surely ye can manage it,” Catriona taunted playfully, and was rewarded by the twitching of his lips. Before he could make a comeback, she aimed and tossed the ring. It spun through the air… and struck the edge of the post before bouncing off into the mud.
“Ach, missed,” she muttered under her breath, disappointed with herself.
Malcolm’s brows rose slightly. “Ye almost got it. It takes practice.”
“Obviously,” she said, brushing dirt from her hands.
“Go on and try again.”
A spark of challenge warmed Catriona’s blood, as it had when they had raced. She picked up another ring and held it out toward him.
“Nay. ’Tis yer turn.”
Malcolm glanced toward the keep, hesitating to take the ring. “I’ve more serious duties tae see tae than standing about playin’ bairn’s games,” he protested gruffly, obviously worried about being seen.
“Afraid ye’ll lose?” she asked with quiet provocation, eyes wide with innocence. She bit back a smile when his eyes flashed immediately at her challenge, as she knew they would.
With a long-suffering sigh that made it a struggle to hold back her laughter, Malcolm took the ring from her. “One throw, that’s all,” he said.
She nodded. “One throw.”
He weighed the wooden ring once in his palm before tossing it carelessly. It missed the post entirely.
“Dammit,” he muttered. Catriona’s suppressed laughter burst out, helpless and impossible to stop.
“Stop lookin’ at me like that,” she begged him as he stared at her indignantly. “Ye’re only makin’ it worse.”
With difficulty, she managed to control herself, though her fragile composure almost shattered again when he scowled at the ring lying in the mud.
“That throw daesnae count,” he stated.
“Och, but it absolutely does,” Catriona insisted, enjoying herself immensely.
He shot her another of his warning looks before retrieving another ring from the ground and preparing to toss it at the post. This time, she saw his expression sharpen with concentration.
The ring spun through the air—and landed cleanly around the post.
Malcolm’s brows rose. “Och, I’ve surprised even mesel’,” he admitted, brushing off his palms.
Catriona clapped her hands together delightedly. “Well done, me laird. I’m impressed. Yer talents are truly endless.”
His mouth curved slowly into that devastating half-smile that always set her pulse cantering like a runaway horse.
“I’ll add it tae me long list of accomplishments.”
“Aye, I bet ye will.” She shook her head, laughing softly again.
Their gazes remained locked on one another as the sound faded gradually into a comfortable silence. Within the spell that fell over them, the chill breeze stirred Malcolm’s dark curls wildly about. She ached to stroke them.
Then his expression shifted slightly, growing more serious. “Cat?”
Something in his voice made her heartbeat slow. “Aye?”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice, though no one stood near enough to overhear.
“Once Duncan arrives… I want ye tae ken... I intend tae speak tae him properly and ask fer yer hand immediately.”
Catriona stilled. For a moment she simply studied him, able to detect the tension beneath his calm expression—the faint tightness in his jaw, the careful restraint in his posture.
He was worried. And somehow she knew that this time, it was not about Sinclair. It was about Duncan.
Love bloomed in her chest as she wondered at him in silence. Did he truly not understand yet how impossible it would be for her brother to reject him? Duncan trusted few men in this world, but he had trusted Malcolm Gordon with her life.
She herself had no doubt of the happy outcome. But she knew that nothing she said would change his mind on the subject. Only Duncan’s approval really mattered. And she adored Malcolm for it.
She smiled. “Well,” she said lightly, “I can only hope ye manage that conversation better than this bairns’ game.”
For one startled moment Malcolm simply stared at her. Then a low laugh escaped him. He reached out as though intending to touch her cheek, but stopped himself at the last moment, apparently remembering they were as good as standing on a stage.
His hand fell to his belt instead.
“I must go. There’s much tae dae. Be careful if ye intend tae take a walk. Remember, the castle is on alert and there’s danger abroad.” He spoke the warning with his usual sternness.
But the heated look in his eyes as he walked away towards the keep lingered in Catriona’s mind for a long time as she continued on her way.
The following morning, Catriona was abruptly shaken from sleep by the sound of raised, masculine voices echoing from the hallway outside her chamber.
Something about the tone of one of them made her heart jolt in her chest. Propelled by equal parts hope and excitement, she threw aside the blankets and climbed from the bed.
Pausing only to throw on a robe, she hurried toward the door, her pulse racing as she opened it and stepped into the hallway.
Immediately, she stepped back onto the threshold, to avoid colliding with any of the fleet of servants who were hurrying along the hall, carrying trunks and various bundles past her door and into the neighboring chamber. They greeted her with respectful nods and smiles as they passed.
She turned her head to the left... and then she saw him.
Her brother was standing as large as life at the end of the hallway, near the landing, directing the servants in the same commanding voice she remembered. For one suspended heartbeat she could not move and simply stared at him.
He looks older, but then he would.
Tall and powerfully built, with the same dark auburn hair and piercing green eyes as her own, Duncan’s features were strong and sharply carved.
But at that moment, she saw they were also deeply shadowed by exhaustion.
Rain had darkened his heavy traveling cloak, and mud streaked his boots after the long ride across country from his keep.
But it was the strain in his face that pierced Catriona’s heart most painfully. Five years had changed him, marked him.
“Duncan,” she whispered, her hands at her mouth.
His head snapped toward her. And then he was moving, striding down the hallway towards her, his face lit up with joy.
Catriona barely had time to breathe before his arms crushed around her.
“Och, Cat,” he rasped, holding her so tightly she thought he might never let go. “Christ, lass…”
Tears sprang instantly to her eyes as she buried her face against his shoulder and hugged him back as hard as she could, breathing in the smell of damp wool and the strong whiff of horse.
Her heart raced as her mind struggled to take it in.
After five long years of separation, they were finally reunited!
“Ye’re all right, eh?” he asked roughly, pulling back only far enough to have a proper look at her. His hands framed her face, tilting it upwards, and he peered anxiously into her eyes. “Tell me ye’re unharmed.”
“I’m well,” she assured him quickly, tears slipping free despite her smile. “Truly.”
Emotion flickered fiercely across his tired features. “God be praised. And Malcolm as well, of course,” he added.
She beamed. “Aye, Malcolm had a lot tae dae with it. I’d nae be here but fer him. He saved me life more than once.”
Duncan nodded and looked at her thoughtfully for a moment before his expression softened again. He fell to studying her once more, almost as though reassuring himself she was truly standing before him.
Just as she was doing with him, for despite her inability to stop smiling, she could not help noticing scars and lines of care marking her brother’s features that had not been there five years before.
Like Malcolm, since they had last seen each other, Duncan’s handsome looks and powerful physique had been hardened by years of violence and war.
She realized she must look older to him too. And what of Elaina? Five long years!
“Did Sinclair hurt ye?” Duncan asked.
“Nay.” She shook her head quickly. “Malcolm got me safely away from the priory before Sinclair’s men could reach me.
” Warmth touched her voice instinctively as certain memories of the escape flickered through her mind.
“He protected me the entire journey here. And he’s been a wonderful host besides. ”
Relief flooded Duncan’s face. “Och, I wouldnae have asked him tae fetch ye if I thought otherwise, lass. I’m sorry I couldnae come mesel’ tae the priory, but I was too far away tae guarantee gettin’ there in time, and I couldnae take the risk.
Malcolm’s keep is nearer, and I kenned I could trust him tae get ye away safely. ”
Something tender tightened in her chest at the absolute certainty in his voice when he spoke of his best friend. The man she loved.
Homesickness and the desire to be with her family tugged at her heartstrings. The need to protect Malcolm and his clan from Sinclair in the only way she could, by leaving castle Gordon as soon as possible, strengthened the pull.
But her love for Malcolm tore her in the opposite direction, leaving her in a whirl of bitter confusion. Despite all, the thought of leaving him now was like knives twisting in her heart.
Duncan broke into her thoughts, patting her back affectionately before releasing her. Catriona watched him rub a tired hand over his eyes, a boyish gesture that made her heart clench and brought their shared past back into vivid focus.
She was about to ask him if they were leaving soon when he spoke first, smiling down at her.
“We’ll nae be goin’ home immediately. I’ll be stayin’ here with me men tae help Malcolm until Sinclair’s been dealt with. So, we’ll have plenty of time tae catch up, eh?”
Sinclair! Always Sinclair!
Emotion clogged her throat as she gazed up at Duncan, her eyes swimming once more. She had missed him so desperately, but now he was here, the thought of him getting hurt in her defense if fighting broke out was almost unbearable. Just as unbearable as it was whenever she worried for Malcolm.
The people I love most in the world are at risk because of me, she thought, the familiar guilt biting at her.
“Aye, we have five years tae catch up on,” she said shakily, taking out her hanky and dabbing at her wet eyes even as she smiled.
Duncan smiled back at her, the first genuine smile of his she had seen in years. For an instant, he was the younger, more carefree brother of old. Warmth exploded in her chest, and more tears slid from her eyes.
“Och, Duncan, I’m so happy tae see ye,” she murmured, impulsively hugging him again.
“I’ve missed ye too, wee sister, and so has Elaina,” he told her in soothing tones before detaching her and holding her away from him gently by the arms. His eyes danced as he gazed into hers and added, “But we’re taegether again, and that means nay more tears, eh?
Now, give me half an hour tae wash the road off me, and then ye and I are goin’ tae take breakfast taegether. I’m starvin’.”
Delighted, she laughed softly and snuffled into her hanky. “Aye, agreed.”