Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Catrìona came to him. Smiling coyly, she took his arm and led him to the curved stone stairs. “Come with me, Lachann. The men will bring up the bags.”
Lachann felt some satisfaction when Macauley objected to the woman giving her attention to him. “Catrìona, do you not think the servants can see to—”
“No, Cullen,” she said, and when she laughed, her countenance was not so dour. “ ’Tis a lady’s duty to see to her guests.”
Her words and laughter did not agree entirely with her attitude. Lachann thought Catrìona seemed more than just a wee bit put out by his request to retreat to their chambers.
But what did the lass think? That they would not prefer to settle themselves before sitting down to table? That Lachann would think naught of a rival for his position when all had been as good as settled mere weeks ago?
As Duncan and Kieran followed behind, Lachann glanced down at Catrìona surreptitiously, taking stock of his future wife, because this time, Macauley would not win. ’Twould be Lachann standing before a priest with the woman of his choosing.
And Macauley could go hang.
Catrìona’s features were unremarkable, though her skin was good. Her hair was a light shade of brown, and was twisted into a complex knot at her nape with a few loose curls teasing her ears. Her eyes were a darker brown, with thick, black lashes—most definitely her best feature, especially when she turned her rapt attention upon him.
She was hardly the kind of woman a man would lose his head over, but neither was she a beastie. She seemed adequately built for childbearing, and Lachann was confident he could rouse some enthusiasm in her over that prospect. ’Twould be a chore to bed a woman who possessed no passion.
They climbed to the top of the steps, coming to a long, old-fashioned gallery much like the one at Braemore Keep, but longer and wider.
“Your chamber is down at the end, Lachann, beside the stairs to the solar,” Catrìona said. “Your cousins have the rooms directly across from yours.”
She moved to walk ahead of him, and Lachann followed, with Kieran and Duncan behind him. He watched Catrìona and the exaggerated sway of her hips. When she turned to smile at him over her shoulder, Lachann felt naught.
The lack of any reaction was a double-edged sword, at best.
“I hope you will not be long,” Catrìona said. She gazed up at him with blatant interest, and Lachann decided Macauley must not have won her yet. “The meal is ready, and you must be—”
“Aye, famished.” He gave her a smile, hoping to forge the beginnings of a short and pleasing courtship. “We’ll take only a few minutes.”
He knew Duncan would be pleased by the amiable exchange, and stood watching as Catrìona left them to their chambers.
“What in hell is Cullen Macauley doing here?” Kieran hissed once Catrìona was gone.
“Same thing I am,” Lachann said.
“Do you think he knew you were coming here, Lachann?”
“How could he?” Lachann replied. “Though our communications were not secret ... I suppose word could have reached him early in the summer.”
“Gesu. The man’s a—”
“I wonder how far he’s gotten with a Kilgorran army,” Lachann said. Much as he would like to grouse about Macauley’s presence, ’twould do him no good.
“Well, certainly not far enough to provide guards at the pier when we docked,” Kieran quipped.
“I do not understand Laird MacDuffie allowing Macauley such favored status,” Duncan said.
“I wonder what the Kilgorrans think of him,” Lachann remarked.
“It does not matter what they think, Lachann,” Duncan retorted. “The man who marries Catrìona will have legitimacy.”
Aye, but so would the man who established and commanded Kilgorra’s army.
Lachann gave a quick shake of his head. If Macauley had begun to build an army, Lachann’s arrival could well divide the isle into warring factions. He knew what an underhanded bastard Macauley was, and he’d seen enough feuding in the highlands to last a lifetime.
’Twas not what he wanted. For even if he won, he would lose something exceedingly important—the unity of the isle.
“You believe that if Macauley marries Catrìona, he will become laird?” Lachann asked. “Because she seems to favor him. As does her father.”
“Macauley has come to Kilgorra to do what he failed to do on Skye,” Kieran said.
“Become laird,” Lachann said quietly.
“Aye,” Kieran replied.
Duncan gave a slow nod. “There is a long tradition here: Catrìona’s grandfather became laird when the prior laird chose him—his son-in-law. The same was done even before that. MacDuffie will choose his daughter’s husband to become laird after him.”
“You will marry the lass, will you not, Lachann?” Kieran asked. “Braemore needs Kilgorra.”
“Aye. I’ll marry her.”
“We should get back to the hall as soon as possible, Lachann,” Duncan said, glancing toward the staircase. “ ’Twill not do to keep the laird waiting.”
“Lady Catrìona seemed anxious for our return,” Kieran added.
Lachann rubbed a hand across his face. He’d never thought much of diplomacy before. Now he was in the thick of it. “She can wait while I wash my face and get the lay of the place.”
Kieran stood still with his hands on his hips, looking toward the staircase.
“What?” Lachann asked.
“She is just as they said—as drab as an oatcake.”
Duncan visibly clenched his teeth at Kieran’s unseemly remark.
Lachann shook his head. “She’ll do.”
Kieran and Duncan went into their chambers, and when Lachann opened the door to his bedchamber, he discovered the maid Anna, half lying across his bed.