Catherine screamed as Rab launched himself at Dennis, sending them both crashing to the floor. She hadn’t seen or heard him approach. He growled, “Me,” as his fist landed against Dennis’s mouth. Blood trickled from the corner as Dennis stared up, stunned.
“Catherine!” Andrew called as he ran to her, Dominic beside him. He pulled her from where Rab had his hand wrapped around Dennis’s throat.
“I have enough trouble without having yer death on ma head. Ye live today, but if we meet outside these castle walls, ken that ye’ve seen yer last day.” Rab drove his fist into Dennis’s nose, blood spurting everywhere. Dennis’s head lolled to the side. Rab rose to his feet in one fluid motion as Catherine tore away from Andrew’s hold. Rab pulled her close as he glared above her head, daring Andrew or Dominic to interfere. When neither stepped forward, Rab kissed the top of Catherine’s head and rubbed her back. “Wheest,mo piseag. We’re here.”
“Ye’re here,” Catherine muttered as she tightened her hold around Rab’s waist.
“Catherine, are ye hurt?” Andrew’s concern was evident in his tone and his burr. “What did he do?”
“Naught but insult and threaten me.”
“I saw thesgian dubh, Catherine.” Andrew pointed to the small but deadly blade that lay on the floor beside the unconscious Dennis.
“Like I said, he threatened me.” Catherine didn’t turn to her cousin, her face still buried against Rab’s chest. “He said ye, Rab, or Mòr might have an accident, and that he could make it seem like Rab killed ye or Mòr, or like ye or Mòr killed Rab. He wants to create more trouble between our clans. The way he said it.” Catherine shook her head as her forehead rested against Rab’s chest. “It wasna an empty threat. It felt more like a warning.”
“It suits his father and him if there were more strife between your clans,” Dominic mused. The three men and one lady stared at the supine body. “Mayhap they’ve already had a hand in that.”
“Do ye think the Buchanans have something to do with the raids?” Andrew asked. Catherine finally focused her gaze on her cousin, who watched her. Her heart ached at the pain she glimpsed in his eyes. She pulled away from Rab with a tap on his chest. She accepted Andrew’s embrace until she playfully coughed.
“Ye shall suffocate me, Óg.”
“Or mayhap I shall never let ye get farther than arm’s reach.”
“I’m all right,” Catherine whispered as she met her cousin’s gaze as she leaned back. “Truly. He scared me, but he didna harm me. I promise.”
Andrew nodded, looking only mildly pacified. Catherine kissed his cheek and tugged his beard as she often did. When his hold slackened further, she stepped from his embrace and turned back to Rab. She ignored the guttural sound of disgust Andrew made.
“How did ye all come to be here? I dinna think ye were breaking bread together,” Catherine wondered.
“Evina raced into the Great Hall and ran to me,” Rab explained. “I could barely understand more than yer name, Dennis’s, chapel, and dirk.”
“We saw them talking. When Rab bolted toward the doors and burst through them without waiting for the guards to open them, we followed,” Andrew elaborated. “There’s only one person here who can make Rab react that way.”
Catherine and Rab exchanged a look. They knew they thought the same thing: they wished they could tell Andrew, and inevitably Dominic, too, that they already handfasted and were set to marry that night. But they both understood it would be disastrous for their plans.
“Aye, well. Ye already ken I dinna take threats to Kitty well.”
“Ye can see she’s well. I’ll take ma cousin to her chamber,” Andrew said as he held out his arm.
“Dinna dismiss him like a servant. And I’m nae interested in going to ma chamber unless it’s for several drams of whisky. I was starving during Mass, and I’m even hungrier now.” Catherine caught herself before she reached into Rab’s sporran. “Do ye have yer flask?”
“Aye.” Rab pulled the whisky container from his sporran and pulled out the stopper. The potent fumes threatened to burn Catherine’s nose, but she relished it. “Ay-up! Dinna be drinking all of it, lass. I could use a little fortification too.”
Rab playfully tugged the flask from Catherine, who pretended not to let go. Another grumble from Andrew made Catherine grin. She handed the flask to Rab, who took a long draw. It was the only hint to how rattled the situation left him. Catherine peered up at Rab and offered a soft smile.
“I’m really all right,” Catherine assured him. She lowered her voice, hoping only Rab could hear. “I’d tell ye if I werenae.”
Rab nodded before returning the flask to his sporran. “If ye’re hungry and up to it, let’s go to the Great Hall. Ye might still find some porridge left or at least some bread and cheese.”
“I will take ma cousin to the Great Hall.” Andrew stood to his full height and thrust forward his hand. He held it there as Rab examined it, then cautiously grasped Andrew’s forearm in a warrior handshake. “Thank ye. I ken the restraint it took to only hit him twice.”
“Óg—” Catherine shook her head when Andrew extended his arm to her again.
“Kitty, Óg is right. I canna take ye to the Great Hall.” Rab shifted his gaze to Dominic, then Andrew. “I spoke to the Bruce this morn. He isnae stripping us of any land only because he kens that’ll make the MacGregors yer problem. We’re to send seventy-five percent of our wheat profits to ye. If ye prefer it, we can send the equivalent amount of grain sacks. We’re also to send a score of livestock to ye.”
“Seventy-five percent?” Catherine asked, aghast. “Is he trying to bankrupt ye?”
“Nay. He kens we can manage for this year. If he leaves us to starve, he merely makes more trouble for himself. But it will undoubtedly take us several years to recover. That’s his goal.” Rab turned his attention back to Andrew. “Ma father doesnae ken of this yet, of course. But it willna surprise him. If yer father can accept the terms, I’ll plan with ye today before I leave for Edinample.”
