Gregor nodded respectfully and reluctantly departed. He returned to the lower level of the keep and found Munn leaning against the gray stone wall beside the closed door of the chief’s study. On Gregor’s approach, the annoying wee man moved in a blur to stand in front of the heavy oak panel blocking the way.
“Cool your heels, lad.” Munn tilted a hip and crossed arms over his chest. “The chief be occupied. Will summon you when ready to hear your report.”
“But—”
“Whist! Chief in conference.”
Damnation. The urge to kick something hard made everything within Gregor tense. Instead of lashing out, he sank against the cool stone of the wall and counted to ten, to one hundred. How long would the chief make him wait? He would have preferred to stay at Emily’s bedside until she woke. Not for any other reason than to learn she was hale.Oh, hell. Who was he fooling? He wanted to gaze into those blue eyes again and see the lass smile. He wanted to kiss her lips. He wanted so much more than he ought.
Deep in the sensual imaginings wandering through his mind, he startled when a man—the castle priest—jostled past while departing from the chief’s study.
“Gregor, did you hear me?” Archibald stood in the threshold sporting an impassive expression. “I am ready to receive your report.”
Gregor pushed away from the wall and followed the chief into the chamber, where Duncan reclined in a chair before the hearth, whisky in hand. How much of the events of the day had the man already divulged to the chief? Had he recounted Gregor’s encounters with fae magic? Would they send him back to Dunadd in disgrace?
“Sit. Make yourself comfortable.” Archibald stepped to a table where a flagon and several cups sat. “Will you join us in a drink?”
“Nae. I thank you just the same, but I have duties to perform before I partake of the eve’n meal and find my pallet.” Gregor chose to remain standing.
Archibald poured the amber liquid—uisge-beatha—into one of the cups and took a swallow. “Will be glad when this unpalatable day is at an end and I can take my rest in my lady-wife’s embrace.”
Gregor’s cheeks heated, and he stared at the floor,discomforted by the chief’s candor.
“Dinnae fash yourself lad. You will understand when you take a wife.”
“Wife?” Emily’s image teased him. He inhaled a sharp breath and choked.
Both men stared at him with an uncomfortable intensity.
“Might be best if you sit.” Archibald nodded to the chair opposite Duncan.
Gregor dropped to the cushioned seat, his gut twisting into a tight knot. This couldn’t be good. “Perhaps a wee taste of thewater of lifewill ease my throat.”
Duncan guffawed.
Archibald cast a rigid glance at the big man. Duncan sobered and gave a slight nod in return. The chief handed Gregor a cup and raised his own. “Shall we drink to your upcoming nuptials?”
CHAPTER FOUR
Emily waded through the cobwebs of sleep, lingering in the fuzzy domain just beyond wakefulness. Something irritated her nose. She scrunched her nostrils trying to ease the prickle.
She sneezed. What on earth was that pungent herbal scent making her nose twitch? She opened her eyes expecting to be in her room at the inn with the window open to the garden.
The strong odor faded as an unfamiliar gray-haired woman stepped away from the bed. Emily wrinkled her brow. “Who are—”
“Em! You’re awake.” Tevin sat on the edge of the mattress beside her, eyes brimming with unshed tears. He lunged, hugging her tight, little fists clutching her sleeves.
“Oh, hi.” Her voice sounded…feeble.
“I was so afraid you would never wake up.”
A feminine chuckle made Emily jerk her gaze to… “Isobell? When did you arrive?”
“Tevin, I told you she would be fine.” The ebony-haired beauty glided closer to the bed.
A velvet curtained, antique bed. Whose bed? Whose room?Not mine. This is all wrong.
“Tevin, give Emily some breathing space.”
