“What?” Andrew demanded.
“Kitty and Agnes had some kind of disagreement. One bad enough that she slapped Agnes. Hard. Ma mon Cullen heard talk that ye’re leaving for Inveruglas tomorrow. Take Kitty with ye.” Rab hated the suggestion, but he hated Dennis Buchanan and the man’s perverted sense of justice more.
“Ye think Buchanan will seek her out.”
“I dinna doubt it for a moment. At best, he’ll trap her into marriage by making it appear that he compromised her. But either way, he will make her pay. Ye and I ken the mon he is. He’s just like…” Rab raised his chin and met Andrew’s gaze. “I canna do to him what I did to them. But I can ask ye to protect her. Take her home with ye.”
“I would if I could. The king and queen are hosting some royal emissary from France. Queen Elizabeth will put her ladies on display, and she will want to present the largest entourage she can. She won’t let Catherine miss it.” Andrew jaw set and his lips pursed and pressed together. “I can’t delay my trip either. I do not loathe your clan any less and have found no more respect for you, but Catherine and ma father are all I have left. I have enough humility and enough sense to know no one will protect her better than you while I’m away. Do not take advantage of this. It isn’t an invitation to woo her. Keep her out of harm’s way.”
“Óg, ye ken I love her. I told ye before, I willna do aught to harm her. What I wish for will never be more important than keeping Kitty safe.” Rab shook his head. “I ken ye hate it when I call her that, but I canna help it. It’s how I think of her.”
“If only you weren’t a MacLaren.”
“If only she wasna a MacFarlane.” When Andrew bristled, Rab chuckled. “Settle, Óg.”
“I’m trusting you when everything that’s happened says I shouldn’t. But I also trust Catherine’s judgment. You’re who she will turn to if aught happens. Be sure you’re there if she does.” Andrew moved to step away, but Rab grabbed his arm. Before Andrew could yank it away, Rab released him.
“Always.”
The two men stared at one another before they went their separate directions.
* * *
“MacLaren.”
Rab was quickly becoming sick of hearing his own name. If every head didn’t turn in his direction when people heard it too, he might not mind. But it was impossible to remain inconspicuous within the pit of vipers when people kept announcing his presence.
“Douglas.” Rab nodded and tried to continue walking past Maxwell, but the man stepped into Rab’s path.
“I’ve gotten word back from your father.”
This gave Rab pause. He hadn’t realized Maxwell Douglas was in touch with his father. It boded poorly for Rab. “And?”
“He agrees a match with Catriona is advantageous to both clans.”
“Catriona? She’ll never have me.” Rab attempted to keep the surprise and fear from his voice. He knew his father viewed a chance to ally with the Douglases as a boon, and he already knew why Maxwell took an interest in him and the MacLarens.
“She knows she hasn’t a say.”
Rab crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels. He knew he didn’t intimidate Maxwell since they were still the same size, but he made sure the man knew he wasn’t some sapling that bent to Maxwell’s will. “She’ll have plenty to say at the altar, and it willna be vows and pledges of love.”
“She doesn’t have a problem with you or your clan. You’ve known each other for years. Your mothers are friends.”
“Were friends. And that’s why she willna have me. She will argue I’m too much like a brother to be a lover. Besides, she willna want to come to such a small clan as ours. She kens her duty here is to find a far more useful match than me.”
“Her duty is to do as she is told.”
Rab snorted. “When has she ever? As savvy as ye believe ye are, Catriona is a far better politician than any mon here. It will take naught but the right whispered words in her father’s ear or yer other brother’s to undo what ye’re trying to arrange. Save yer time and yer energy. Find her a match she will agree to.”
Rab wasn’t lying. He’d described Catriona accurately, and he hoped that his childhood friend held true to her past disposition. He didn’t wish to find himself walking down the aisle to meet one of Catherine’s friends as his bride.
“Don’t be so quick to discount what this can do for your clan. One day you will be laird. You won’t care who warms your bed if she came with a healthy dowry and a clan willing to fight alongside you.”
“Be sure to include that in our wedding toast. I’m certain Catriona will appreciate that sage advice.” Rab shook his head and clapped Maxwell on the shoulder. “If she already kens of yer plans, post guards at her door. She’ll run home before ye can even saddle yer horse to chase her.”
Rab walked past Maxwell, praying he’d been dismissive enough for the man to believe pursuing a match between Rab and Catriona was futile. When he glanced up, he spotted Catherine and Catriona watching him. Catriona’s annoyed expression confirmed what Rab warned, but Catherine’s stricken one made him want to run to her and assure her that he never intended to marry Catriona. He might have laughed at Maxwell’s suggestion, but Rab knew, from a distance, it likely appeared as though he agreed with Maxwell.
Catriona wrapped her arm around Catherine’s and nearly dragged her into the keep. The glare she shot Rab spoke louder than if she’d screamed for him to follow them. Catriona steered Catherine toward a flight of stairs while tugging her sleeve before urging her into a music room. Only moments later, Rab appeared, closing the door softly behind him.
