Gregor shot a warning glance to the king not to say anything.
Surprisingly, he heeded it. “I instructed the piper to play nothing but reels tonight after the feast.” With a sly look to Gregor, he added, “I have a special guest who just arrived and has requested to sit next to you for the meal. I don’t believe you’ve ever met my half-sister Isabel’s son, Sir Thomas Randolph?”
Gregor had to bite back a curse, but Bruce must have seen his balled fists—the sadistic bastard grinned. He was making Gregor pay, all right.
Cate shook her head. “I’ve heard of him, of course.”
“Aye, I’m not surprised,” Bruce added. “He’s become quite renowned for his prowess on the battlefield. And off as well—he’s a great favorite among the ladies of court, isn’t that so, MacGregor?”
Gregor smiled through teeth that were grinding together. “I believe I’ve heard something to that effect.”
Bloody hell, Randolph?He was a bigger rogue than Gregor had ever been. Gregor didn’t understand the fascination with the pompous bastard, whose knightly armor was so shiny you could clean your damned teeth in the reflection, but who could account for taste? The fact that Cate was a cousin of sorts wouldn’t stop the young knight from flirting outrageously—and driving Gregor half-crazed in the process.
It was going to be a long night.
“If you don’t mind, Father, there is something I would like to discuss with myoldguardian.”
Gregor didn’t miss the jab at his age. His mouth tightened. Christ, he was one and thirty, not one and eighty. He’d be more than happy to prove just how spry he was, if she would let him.
The king’s smile suggested he was taking far too much pleasure in this, blast him. “Aye, but don’t take too long. There’s Randolph now. Wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”
The sweet smile she gave her father turned frosty when it fell on him. “Don’t worry, I only need a few minutes.”
As soon as Bruce walked away, she wasted no time. “I won’t have any more of this, Gregor. It has to stop. All those menacing looks were bad enough, but how dare you strike Sir David for dancing with me!”
His mouth fell in a hard line. “It wasn’t for dancing.”
She put her hands on her hips, waiting.
He shrugged. “I didn’t like where he was looking at you.”
She made a sound of outrage and looked very much like she wanted to poke him in the chest. If there weren’t people milling around, he suspected she’d be doing just that.
“Are you crazed?” she seethed in a low voice. Aye, he was. But she was obviously not expecting an answer. “You have no right,” she continued, eyes blazing. “I will be the one to object if I don’t like the way a man is looking at me, not you. I don’t need a protector, a guardian, or a bad-tempered, sotted, unkempt, grizzled ruffian with a broken nose who is acting like a spoiled child who didn’t get what he wanted. What do you expect me to do, throw myself at you in gratitude for saying you love me?”
Maybe not gratitude, but acknowledgment would have been nice. He’d never uttered those words to anyone, and having them ignored had stung. Realizing she might not appreciate that honest of an answer, however, he said, “Maybe not, but you don’t need to take so much pleasure in torturing me.”
The flush that rose to her cheeks suggested she wasn’t unaware of how much her flirting bothered him. But she lifted her chin and looked regally down her nose at him. Christ, she was a natural. It must be in the blood.
“What makes you think what I do has anything to do with you at all?”
“Because you love me,” he said simply.
Cate was loyal and steadfast and true. When she gave her heart to someone it would be forever. He’d hurt her deeply—unconscionably—but not irreparably. She was a fighter. He was counting on it. He had faith in them, even if she no longer did.
She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. What he wanted to do was push her into the laird’s solar behind her and kiss her, but she had a few more days. “One month, sweetheart. That’s all I can take. Enjoy what you have left.”
She blinked in confusion as he started to walk away.
After a few steps, he turned back. “You might be right about everything else, but I’m not sotted. I haven’t had more than a glass of wine or watered-down ale to drink in weeks.”
The arrogant beast! How dare he walk away and leave her standing there after saying something so outrageous! Cate was tempted to drag him back and tell him every reason she most certainly didnotlove him. He’d broken her heart, and even if it admittedly didn’t feel quite as broken right now, she wasn’t going to let him hurt her again.
How could she trust him? Just because he said he loved her and was doing his best impersonation of a stalwart, only-have-eyes-for-you swain, how could she be sure it would last? One month wasn’t a lifetime.
But it is a start.
Telling the little voice in the back of her head to be quiet, Cate concentrated on all the things she didn’t like about him. The crooked nose, to start. God knows, it would probably only make the blighter more handsome—as if that were what he needed!
