He stifled a groan, remembering her warm softness as she had slept against his chest. “The children hover around her like bees to a hive.”
“I would be more than willing to hover around her too,” Jasper said. “Seat her at the head table with us, aye? Next to me.”
Gunn stanched the urge to backhand his war chief. “She sits with the children.”
“As ye wish.” Jasper shot a sly look his way. “Perhaps I shall sit with the children as well. To prove that I can be trusted to protect them as she does.”
“Yer place is at the head table on the other side of our guests. Ye ken that well enough.” Gunn glared at Jasper, daring him to challenge the unspoken order.
“What the devil’s got into ye, man?” The war chief cast an incredulous scowl back at him.
Before Gunn could answer, a chill raced down the back of his neck, making every hair stand on end. He turned and discovered why.
Lady Murdina stood framed in the archway with a ridiculous feather sticking out of her auburn curls. He toyed with the idea of ignoring her, but it was too late for that. They had already made eye contact. Yet the infernal woman stood there, waiting for him to come to her.
She best learn early on that their relationship would never take that path.
He made a polite bow and ushered her forward with a wave of his hand. “Welcome to the feast in yer honor, Lady Murdina.”
The hint of a scowl puckered her brow as she paused a half-second longer, then swept into the room with a grand flourish of her full skirts. “Good evening, m’lord. Everything looks delightful.” She extended her hand and coyly tipped her head, waiting for him to take it.
“It is either Gunn or my chieftain. Remember, m’lady?” He took her hand and briefly bowed over it without leaving a kiss behind.
She withdrew it and pressed it to her chest beneath a locket dangling above the twin swells of her ample breasts. “Forgive me. I shall endeavor to do better,my chieftain.”
“Nothing to forgive, m’lady. I was merely reminding ye.” He offered his arm and turned her toward Jasper before the man escaped. “Ye remember Sir Jasper?”
She curtsied low, as if trying to ensure they both had a clear view down into her low-cut neckline. “Indeed I do, and ’tis reassuring to know he fights at my future husband’s side to protect him.”
“Welcome, m’lady.” Jasper offered her a curt nod then slid his gaze back to Lorna and the children. “I must speak with Edmond. Excuse me.”
“Who is Edmond?” Lady Murdina asked, but Jasper had already slipped away.
Gunn glared at the war chieftain’s back, silently damning him. “Edmond is second-in-command to Jasper. He is also Mrs. Thistlewick’s grandson. He saw to the bringing in of yer trunks.”
“Ah yes. I remember. The large, shaggy lad.” She resettled her hand in the crook of his elbow and lightly swished her entirely too elaborate skirts from side to side. With a smile that he could tell was strained, she pointedly scanned the large room, and those already gathered. “I had thought there would be more present to meet yer future wife.”
“It is the dead of winter, m’lady,” he said, tugging her forward. Maybe if they walked, he would find their conversation easier to bear. “Not everyone possesses the means of traveling such as yerself and yer brother. By the way, is he not coming down?”
She made a disgruntled hissing sound. “He is still abed, nursing that infernal ague with Mrs. Thistlewick’s brew. Each time he awakens, he downs more of the stuff, then goes back to sleep.”
“Aye, her brew has that effect. ’Tis the amount of whisky she mixes with the honey and berries.”
“At least it quiets him. I am grateful for that.”
He maneuvered them toward the children’s table, determined to interrupt Jasper’s conversation with Lorna. “Would ye care to see to yer son and how he is settling in?”
She curled her upper lip as though smelling rot, then recovered and assumed another strained smile. “Of course. I would hope he is settling in as well as I am. I shall see to him.” She fluttered a hand at the children. “Frances!”
The lad didn’t even look her way. He was too involved in a conversation between Bella and Hesther.
“Perhaps he nay heard ye,” Gunn said. The bustling of servants and the arrival of more clansmen coming in from their chores had increased the noise level of the hall.
“Frances!” she called more sharply.
The child snapped his head around and immediately paled. Lorna broke off her conversation with Jasper, rounded the table, and placed herself between the lad and his mother. “Good evening, Lady Murdina.”
Gunn noticed the uncontrollable tic in Lady Murdina’s left eye had returned. “Are ye unwell, m’lady?”
