“At least you’re honest aboot that, but that doesn’t create much hardship, which means not much of a punishment. You can give them an extra score.”
Rab wished he’d kept his thoughts to himself. But they’d enjoyed a good breeding season with both their sheep and their cows. They could survive the loss, but he pictured a great deal more fish in his future. He loathed most fish. As he watched King Robert, he realized that his interview was ending, and the man expected his agreement.
“Thank ye, Yer Majesty. I will inform ma father posthaste, and we will plan to deliver the coin and the animals.”
“You can make those arrangements with Óg before you leave.” King Robert gave Rab a dismissive nod but canted his head as he studied Rab. “It’s a shame you and Lady Catherine never wed. There’d be no feud, and none of this would have happened. It would have bound your clans as allies rather than bent on killing one another.”
Rab took another deep inhale as he struggled to maintain his neutral expression, sensing King Robert tested him. “It shall always be the greatest regret of ma life that I didna seek her hand the year earlier. I waited too long. I should have spoken to Mòr sooner, but I didna ken if Lady Catherine wished to marry so young. More’s the fool am I for nae asking her first.”
“You believe she might have said yes?”
“I ken so. She’d already said aye when ma father and Mòr argued. We were both on our way to tell our lairds that we agreed we wished to marry.”
King Robert’s eyes twitched ever so slightly. “A shame you made no promises. You might be married now.”
Rab bowed as King Robert turned his attention to parchments on his massive table that he sat behind. Rab hurried from the Privy Council chamber, wondering if the monarch had given a hint. Catherine and Rab had promised to marry one another that summer. He wondered if the Bruce thought they could make an argument that they already pre-contracted to marry and were betrothed because they’d said aloud their intention to marry, even if no one witnessed them. He could think about that while he waited to ride to Dunblane with Catherine for their wedding.
Chapter 13
Catherine peered around Dennis’s shoulder, regretting that she’d lingered at the end of Terce to wait for Evina, who wished to say an extra prayer for an ailing family member. It was the first time she’d joined the royal court for anything in the past three days, and Evina now stood behind Dennis’s left shoulder with eyes so wide Catherine feared they might fall from her face. She shifted her gaze back to Dennis, who loomed in front of her, having stalked her until her back was against a wall.
“Don’t bother looking for someone to save you now. She can’t do a thing, and everyone else is breaking their fast. How fortuitous that you should be such a good friend to at least one lady. Now here you are.” Dennis attempted to use his larger size to intimidate Catherine, who was so frightened she felt her knees trembling. She refused to allow Dennis to realize how he terrified her, so she raised an imperious chin and cast her eyes down the length of her nose. “You haughty bitch.”
Catherine caught movement behind Dennis as Evina spun around, looking for someone, anyone. Evina shook her head. When she mouthed “Rab,” Catherine dipped her chin as though she gave Dennis the haughty appraisal of which he accused her. Then she lifted her head again but kept her eyes on Dennis. Evina didn’t wait. She ran from the passageway, leaving Catherine to pray her fellow Highlander found Rab or Óg or anyone quickly. Catherine was certain Evina’s presence wouldn’t temper Dennis’s choices, so it was likely just as well that he would only have one victim now.
“Did you think I’d just forget what you did to my sister?”
Catherine remained silent, keeping her snide response to herself, praying her silence didn’t antagonize him as much as her comment might. She slid her hand up her side, hoping to reach one of her dirks, but Dennis grasped her wrist so tightly she feared it snapping. He wrenched her arm away.
“Carry a knife, do you? Not surprising. Would you like to see what I can do with mine?” Dennis drew a wickedly sharpsgian dubhfrom his belt. Catherine continued to keep her eyes locked with his, but she was hyper aware of the blade. She twisted at the same moment as Dennis attempted to press the blade to her belly. “Uh-uh. You’re not leaving this passageway the way you came in.”
“You’d kill me while Dominic Campbell is at court? More fool are you,” Catherine muttered the last four words.
“Fool? Fool? The only fool between the two of us is you. Like I said, did you think you could touch my sister, and naught comes of it?”
“Did your sister think she could toss around my family’s murders, and naught comes of it?” Catherine felt her temper rise as her fear abated. She reminded herself that either emotion would likely have Dennis pounce. She needed to stall him long enough for either someone to stumble upon them or for Evina to return with help.
“My sister didn’t speak any untruths. Those animals butchered your family, defiling women and leaving their men to bed whores.”
“You will not kill me, and even if you beat me, you won’t dare leave me for dead. I suggest you tread carefully since Óg and Dominic are still here. And while Brodie and the king are not on good terms, the king will always side with the Campbells, and thus their allies—we MacFarlanes—before he sides with your clan. You’ve been at court too long, Dennis. Óg is not long from the battlefield. I hold little hope that you can come out victorious, here or elsewhere.”
“You think to intimidate me, yet I am the one holding the knife.”
“I was thinking to do no such thing, but if that’s how the truth makes you feel, then you’re wise to leave here. We can pretend you never waylaid me.”
“Your family doesn’t frighten me any more than you do.”
“Mayhap.” Catherine shrugged. “With luck, it’ll be Catriona who finds us. She scares the shite out of you. The only mon who runs faster from a woman is one trying not to get married.”
“Bitch.”
“I’m no dog, but I have heard you’re a bastard.” Catherine reproached herself for not keeping a better hold on her temper and her tongue. Dennis raised thesgian dubhto the hollow at the base of Catherine’s throat.
“A bitch in heat is what I hear. As though everyone hasn’t seen how you and MacLaren pretend not to stare at one another. Word is he was your lover once. No wonder Óg can’t find anyone to marry you. How much did he offer Gunn to take you?”
“Nowhere near as much as your father will pay some daft sod to take your sister.” Catherine overcame the temptation to bray like a donkey, knowing that might very well ring her death knell. But she couldn’t think of any way to distract Dennis other than to antagonize him into talking more. She knew she trod a fine line between making him defend himself and pushing him to the point of stabbing her.
“I may not kill you here and now, but we know accidents happen. Neither Mòr nor Óg will live forever. Neither can Rab. How easy it would be to make it look like a MacLaren murdered a MacFarlane, or a MacFarlane murdered a MacLaren. Mayhap you will be left all alone. Then who will protect you?”
