“He cares about you, Caty.”
She could not argue. But was it enough? Could she forgive him?
“What happens after a month?”
“I gave him permission to court you—that is all. And only if you agree.”
Cate felt her chest tighten as the ice around her heart began to crack, and a glimmer of the love she’d once held for Gregor crept back in. “When is the month over?”
“Wednesday.”
Two days. She looked up at her father with despair. “What do I do?”
His eyes were gentle. “What do you want to do?”
Trust him. She didn’t speak the words aloud, but her father must have seen the thought in her face.
“I think you already know what you want to do. I can’t say I’m not pleased. I hope this means I will get my archer back.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
Annoyance crossed his noble features. “My best bowman claims he doesn’t want to fight anymore.”
Twenty-seven
After being pushed to the very edge of his restraint the night before, it wasn’t surprising that Gregor found himself at the practice yard early the next morning. He felt like killing someone and needed an outlet. Nay, not just someone—the smug bastard who’d had his eyes and hands all over Cate last night. Just the memory of the way Randolph’s palm had rested on the small of her back and then slid down one very inappropriate inch made every muscle in Gregor’s body flare.
Gritting his teeth, he swung his sword and let it come down with all the frustration and anger teeming inside him.
He was fortunate his sparring partner was the best swordsman in Scotland and didn’t know the meaning of the word “practice.” With MacLeod it was always full-out, no-holds-barred combat.
MacLeod blocked the blow, albeit with some effort. The Chief of the Highland Guard drew back to take a break, breathing heavily. “Christ, Arrow, keep swinging a sword like this and we might find a new place for you with or without your bow.” He gave him a long look. “I guess I don’t need to ask what has gotten into you? I saw Randolph with your lass last night.”
Suddenly, MacLeod’s gaze shifted past him. Gregor turned just as Cate stomped up beside him.
“I’m not his lass,” she said to MacLeod with gritted teeth. Gregor was so glad to see her, so busy drinking in every sweet inch of her, that he didn’t even mind when she scowled at him. “Why aren’t you practicing with your bow? And what is this my father says about you not rejoining the, uh…” She looked about uncertainly at the men gathered around. “…army?”
Unfortunately, his place in the “army” wasn’t exactly a secret anymore. Gregor sighed, pulled off his helm, and dragged his fingers through his sweat-drenched hair. Damn Bruce for bringing her into this! “Can we talk about this later, Cate?”
“I don’t know, Slick,” MacSorley piped in from his position leaning against the wall of the armory, where he’d been watching the sword practice. “I’m rather interested in what you have to say on the subject as well.” He looked around at the other members of the Guard gathered there: Sutherland, MacKay, MacRuairi, and Campbell. “We all are.”
Feeling more than a little cornered, Gregor might have snapped back angrily, but Cate unexpectedly came to his rescue. She turned to MacSorley. “You know, I think you are going to have to come up with a new name for him. He doesn’t look very slick right now. He looks rather a mess.”
Some rescue. Gregor repressed a groan.
MacSorley grinned. “Ah, you might be right about that, lass. I’ll have to think of something. But don’t worry about that pretty face of his—it will heal up just fine. Did he ever tell you how he was dipped in the River Styx as a child?”
Gregor muttered a not very low “go to hell” under his breath, while Cate laughed.
“Like Achilles with the arrow? How appropriate! Did his mother hold him by the heel as well?”
It was MacRuairi who answered, shaking his head. “We didn’t think he was vulnerable anywhere. But turns out he is.”
Cate searched the faces of the men around them, waiting for an explanation.
Finally, Gregor let out an exasperated sigh. “You, Cate. He means you.”
Their eyes met and for the first time in a long time, she was not looking at him with hatred and anger. She blinked widely. “Oh.”
