“What the hell are ye starin’ at?”
Brodie didn’t blink. Instead, he rested his elbows on the table, moved slightly forward, and peered at Callum more intently. Graham snickered and pushed his chair away from his friend’s, not wanting to be in the way when Callum started trouncing the poor fool. And by the looks of it, Brodie had been trounced already this day. The bruise around his swollen eye was already turning an interesting shade of purple. Angus most assuredly, Graham decided with another smirk.
“Are ye sufferin’ from some ailment we should know aboot?” Brodie asked him quite seriously and went back to studying him.
Callum turned to Graham, seeking some interpretation. When none came, he slid his gaze back to Brodie. “Do I appear ill to ye?”
“Aye.” Brodie nodded. “Ye do.” The corners of his eyes crinkled from his continued scrutiny. “Yer a bit flushed aroond the ears, and the way ye were howlin’ ootside we figgered ye must be ill . . . or goin’ daft.” He sat back and added a low mumble.
Graham moved farther away in his chair, taking his cup with him. But the reaction he expected never came. Callum did not throw his chair back and yank Brodie to him by the scruff of his neck. He simply sat there, a wry quirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Brodie, where’s yer wife?”
His cousin looked around the great hall, then shrugged. “She’s aroond here somewhere.”
“Ye should be with her.”
“I should?”
Callum nodded, “Aye, ye should.”
“Why?”
“Ye love her, dinna ye?”
“Eh? What the hell has that got to do wi’ anythin’?” Brodie asked him, sincerely confounded.
Before Callum could answer him, or, heaven forbid it, laugh again, Angus threw himself down into the seat nearest Brodie. “I think I broke me finger on yer face.”
Jamie appeared and took his place at Callum’s left. “Speakin’ of faces.” He reached for a hunk of bread on the table. “What happened after ye saved Kate from her attackers?”
Callum scowled at him, then went back to eating, ignoring the lad’s eager eyes.
“He recited a saintly prayer over her bonny head and raced her back here, where he would have nae time alone w’ her.” Brodie shook his head at Jamie. “What the hell do ye think happened after that, ye whiskerless pup?”
Realization finally dawned on the youngest of Callum’s warriors, and he blushed a fresh shade of scarlet. “Are ye claimin’ her, then?”
Callum downed the rest of his ale, then looked up at them. “Aye, I am.”
The smirk Brodie wore on his face vanished suddenly and he dropped his mutton back into his trencher. “That’s why ye asked me if I loved Netta. Christ, Callum, ye dinna love the lass d’ye?”
“Should I send fer Faither Lachlan, then?” Jamie asked eagerly.
“Dinna bother,” Callum said as he stood from his seat. “Our sacraments are no’ recognized by the church. But I dinna need a priest to approve our union. She’s mine, and I’ll protect her from the law.” He swept his gaze over each of them. “Do any of ye take issue with my decision?” His men shook their heads. “Good, then I’ll be goin’ to bed.”
“Bed?” Jamie asked incredulously. “But ’tis still light oot.”
Angus threw his head back and bellowed with laughter, but Callum barely heard as he picked up his pace heading for the stairs. When he was sure he was out of his men’s vision, he took the stairs three at a time. Kate was in his chambers, and he’d been eager to get there since she left him for a bath. She did not need one, he reasoned. She smelled fine already.
He stopped on the stairs, lifted his arm, and took a sniff. No’ too bad, he thought. At least he smelled like a man. Damnation, is this what love did to a man? Was he destined to become a smiling, blithering fool, so concerned with his odor that he would forget how refreshing fighting felt? By the time he reached the second landing his scowl turned into full-blown brooding.
His men had already noticed the change in him. Why, Brodie even thought he looked ill. With that thought souring his mood further, Callum ran his hand over his jaw, feeling for any sign of softness. He cursed under his breath and set his hard gaze on his chamber door. Kate was probably in there neatly arranging pink lilies in delicate little vases. He kicked an empty bucket out of his path. Now that she was his, she’d be staying in his chambers. Hell, he was going to have to get used to having a woman loitering around in his things. He stopped and paled as an even more horrid thought came to him. Mayhap she was polishing his bloodstained swords. God’s blood! He picked up his steps and almost sprinted the rest of the way.
The door to his chambers was slightly ajar when he reached it. He was about to plunge inside and stop Kate from whatever she was doing when he heard her voice.
“Umm, does that not feel good?”
Her silky groan of delight pricked his ears and froze his blood. Heart pounding, he splayed his palms on either side of the doorframe and moved closer to the opening.
“It feels like silk. It is so smooth. I can scarcely wait until it grows.”
