She stormed over to the dais to join her father and Sir Thomas. But her mind was still on the conversation with Gregor. What did he mean by one month, anyway? It was just like him to be purposefully vague in order to make her curious. Which she was, blast him.
She did, however, manage to have a thoroughly delightful time with her “cousin.” Sir Thomas truly was an outrageous flirt, and undeniably handsome with his refined features, dark hair, and blue eyes. Had she not vowed to not think about the man who’d resumed his post as her forbidding watchdog, she might have speculated that this was probably how Gregor had been when he was younger.
When she caught Sir Thomas’s gaze dropping down to her bosom during one of the reels (the tight bodice did rather demand attention), she let it linger a full ten seconds before drawing his gaze back up to hers with a question. The whiteness around Gregor’s mouth when she cast a surreptitious glance in his direction proved surprisingly satisfying given his curious “one month” comment.
She was smiling when her gaze met her partner’s again.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Sir Thomas asked, a mischievous sparkle in his deep blue eyes.
“Immensely,” she said with ill-concealed relish.
He laughed. “I don’t think your former guardian is having much fun. Why do I have the feeling I should watch my back as I leave here later? Let me guess—you danced with Lindsay last night?”
Cate instantly sobered. She bit her lip, looking up at him worriedly. “I’m sorry…I wasn’t thinking. I’m afraid you are probably right.”
“I was only jesting. If MacGregor wants a fight he will have one. Besides, I owe him. He and his friends put me through hell when I rejoined my uncle a few years back.” The gleam in his eye turned decidedly wicked. “What’s say we make him suffer?”
Cate thought a minute—well, more like two seconds, really—and grinned back at him. “You don’t mind?”
“Dear cousin, it will be my pleasure. Watching that one squirm with jealousy is worthtwoblack eyes.”
Fortunately, it didn’t come to that. Whatever her father had said to Gregor earlier seemed to have worked. And she did have her month—whatever that meant.
Having her suspicions, the next day she hunted down her father in the laird’s solar to find out. He dismissed the hulking Island chief who never seemed to leave his side, Tor MacLeod, and the handful of other men with whom he’d just finished meeting. She’d heard her father refer to him as Chief a number of times, leading her to suspect that he was the leader of the Phantoms. He was certainly big and intimidating enough. Fierce-looking was putting it mildly.
Leaning back in his chair behind the table, her father watched her pace back and forth a few times, waiting for her to begin.
She stopped and turned to face him. “You were furious with Gregor after I was shot. To what did he agree to make you forgive him?”
He quirked a brow in a way that was vaguely familiar. “What makes you think I’ve forgiven him?”
She bit her lip. “Haven’t you?”
“It depends.” His expression softened. “Have you?”
Cate pursed her mouth. “Of course not—why should I?” Realizing her father didn’t know the details and not wanting to go into them, she added, “Did you force him to agree to stay away from me for a month?”
His mouth quirked mischievously. “Not exactly.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, ‘not exactly’?”
“I did not force him to do anything; it was his idea.”
Her brows drew together. “His idea?”
“Aye, he thought you deserved to have some time as my daughter.” His voice softened. “He wanted you to feel special. To have all of those things that would have been your due had we not been separated.”
Cate’s eyes widened. Of all the things she’d expected him to say, it wasn’t that. Rocked, she swayed on suddenly unsteady legs. Locating a bench behind her, she sat. “He did? Then all this…?”
“Was his idea. I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t think of it. He was right, Caty—you deserved to be treated like a princess.”
They both knew a natural daughter wasn’t a princess, but she understood what he meant. What she couldn’t believe was that Gregor had done something so sweet…so thoughtful…socaring.
“The circlet?”
“He had it designed specially for you in Oban.”
Cate didn’t know what to say.
