Gregor lifted a brow at the note of confidence in his friend’s voice, but he didn’t question him. Campbell had an eerie way of seeing things that other people didn’t. Maybe that Gregor didn’t even see himself.
His partner frowned. “It’s funny. She reminds me of someone, but I can’t think who.”
Gregor felt a cold shiver race down his back. He looked at his friend. “Aye, I’ve thought the same thing.”
They exchanged a glance, and Gregor tried not to be bothered by the troubled look in Campbell’s eyes. But it stayed with him. And he would recall it later.
But by then it would be too late.
Nineteen
Cate was pleased when Gregor rode out with the three other Phantoms on the morning of the Hogmanay feast.
She was surprised that they’d managed to keep their identities hidden for this long. All anyone had to do was look for the most terrifying, intimidating, fierce-looking men around, and the search would be over. Had she not been about to marry the most handsome man in Scotland, she also might have noticed that they were all uncommonly attractive. And tall. And muscular. It made sense, given their reputed prowess on the battlefield, but it was rather awe-inspiring all the same seeing them together.
What made Cate happy, however, was not this discovery, but that Gregor had taken his bow with him and intended to use it this time. She’d been more worried by its absence across his back than she’d realized. She couldn’t recall a time when Gregor had gone weeks without practicing. But it seemed the unusual break was at an end. Probably because he would be going back to the war soon. Her chest squeezed, recalling what he’d told her last night after the evening meal.
The day after their wedding? It wasn’t fair!
Not for the first time, she cursed the man who’d fathered her, albeit this time not for leaving her, but for taking the man she loved away from her.
You have to tell him. She knew she could not keep it from him forever. It might not have made a difference were he just another soldier in the king’s army, but he was more than that. Far more.
She would tell him. As soon as she had the opportunity. With all the guests and festivities, it had been difficult—almost impossible—to find time alone. But before Gregor had left, he’d leaned over and whispered “tonight” in her ear. That one word, that one taunting word filled with husky promise, had sent a shiver of anticipation racing through her.
A shiver of anticipation that had tormented her all day. The wretch! Did he know what he did to her? Probably. Definitely.
She found herself flushing at the oddest moments throughout the day. Such as when she was in the kitchens with Ete overseeing the roasting of the pig, and one of the kitchen maids had mentioned how excited she was for tonight. When the girl had asked Cate if she was, too, it wasn’t the feast Cate had been thinking about that caused her cheeks to turn red.
Cate’s torment had only increased when the long-awaited feast finally began. Though Gregor’s hosting duties as laird left little time for conversation between them, she was seated next to him on the dais, and more than once, his hand had “accidentally” brushed hers, his arm had grazed her breast, and his thigh had pressed up against hers, the contact making her jump. His uncle Malcolm, Chief of the MacGregors, who was seated on her other side, had given her more than one odd look and finally asked her if something was wrong. With a chastising look in Gregor’s direction, she’d scooted a few inches away from him on the bench.
But putting distance between them didn’t help. Every time their eyes met, she’d see that knowing look in his and flush to her roots. She’d lost her train of thought more than once, which left her stumbling embarrassingly through her conversations with the steady stream of people who came forward to offer their congratulations.
The dancing after the meal was even worse. Gregor didn’t miss any excuse to touch her. A hand held too long…a touch on the waist as he guided her through the steps. By the end of the first reel she was flushed, breathless, and so aroused, she was sure everyone could see how eager she was to strip off that fine dark blue velvet tunic he was wearing and swive the tormenting blighter senseless. The scary-looking pirate Lachlan MacRuairi had caught her eye once and lifted one very dark eyebrow at her with what she swore was almost amusement. She’d been so mortified, she’d wanted to crawl under the table and hide.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one looking at her betrothed as if he were a sweet she couldn’t wait to gobble up. The usual gaggle of women had dropped around his feet. But Gregor gave her no reason for jealousy. Though he was his usual effortlessly charming self, and polite to all the ladies with whom he danced, the flirtatious glances and touches were reserved for her. Only when she saw him dance with Seonaid did she feel a prickle of something resembling jealousy. Maybe she hadn’t forgotten about that kiss as much as she thought she had.
But she quickly realized she had no cause. The shield of untouchability that separated him from the rest of the world had been erected again. It had been gone for so long, she’d almost forgotten what it was like. But he didn’t use it with her. She alone had broken through.
By the time the candelabra were lit, she couldn’t wait for the feast to be over and the night to begin. She intended to make him pay for his teasing.
But Gregor didn’t make her wait. Not long after she’d seen him dancing with Seonaid, he came up behind her when she was talking to John and murmured “wine” in her ear.
She didn’t need to ask what he meant. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him slip past the partition to the corridor that led to the small room where the wine was stored.
Her pulse raced with anticipation. She could almost smell the pungent, musty smell of the casks now. She could practically feel his lips on her neck, his skin against hers, the heat and hardness of his body…
They would have to be quick if they didn’t want anyone to miss them. But somehow the hurriedness only heightened the anticipation.
She waited what she hoped was a sufficient amount of time before slipping out after him.
She’d gone only a few feet, however, before she heard someone behind her and turned. She tensed, her body instinctively bracing her for what was sure to be an unpleasant confrontation.
“There you are, Caitrina,” Seonaid said innocently, as if the meeting were by chance.
Cate looked behind her, surprised to see that she was without her trusty handmaidens. “Were you looking for me, Seonaid?” She smiled sweetly. “I’m surprised you did not see me. I was seated at the head table next to the laird.”
Cate had to admit, seeing the flush of anger on the face of the woman whose jeers and cruel barbs had tormented her over the years gave her a distinct moment of girlish satisfaction. But it was soon replaced by regret. She couldn’t let Seonaid get to her like this. Cate wasn’t mean-spirited and petty.
