Anger Cate would have known how to fight. But this seeming acceptance of her guilt and sentencing to a purgatory of the unknown—where she couldn’t appeal her conviction or know her punishment—was far harder to combat. If she’d thought him untouchable before, it was nothing to the air of remoteness and indifference that had gone up like an icy shield around him now.
Still, she tried. She tried throughout the meal to talk to him, but he either brushed her off or included the people around them in the conversation to forestall the discussion of anything personal. As soon as the meal was concluded, he excused himself and joined the other Phantoms at their table. A few minutes later, they departed. To hunt, she would learn from John later.
She was left to entertain their guests and pretend nothing was wrong. Pretend that she wasn’t deeply hurt by his behavior. Pretend that she didn’t see the pitying glances sent in her direction.
Pretend that she wasn’t worried.
What if he refused to believe her?
By the end of the day, Cate had had enough. She’d hoped that she wouldn’t need to defend herself, but she couldn’t let it go on like this any longer. If Gregor wouldn’t talk to her, then he could very well listen.
After saying good night to the children, she went back down to the second level, but not to her room. Instead, she took up a post at the window in the room where Gregor had slept before he’d removed himself to the barracks. Unlike her room, his overlooked the bailey and gate.
As the chamber was temporarily empty, no one had lit the brazier, and the drafty room was about as cold and desolate as she was feeling. Though far from spacious and modern, the old tower house was a palace compared to the small cottage she’d grown up in, and she loved it. It was comfortable. It was home. Removing the fur-lined coverlet from the bed, she wrapped it around her shoulders, sat on the wooden bench, and waited, watching the gate for any sign of riders.
Surely he would return soon? Though it was only seven or eight o’clock, it had been dark for some time.
But an hour passed, and then another. The number of people moving about the bailey dwindled until only the warriors on the night watch remained.
The castle grew silent. The candle she’d brought with her burned low. Her lids grew heavy.
Reality set in. Gregor wasn’t coming back. At least not tonight. Maybe not…
She wouldn’t let herself finish the thought. With a feeling akin to despair, she curled up on the same bed where they’d made love and tried not to let her mind wander in terrifying directions.
He would come back, and she would talk to him when he did. It had only been a day. Nothing horrible could happen in a day. It would be all right.
But it was a long time before she slept.
Cate startled awake from what felt like a posset-induced slumber.Jangle. Clop. Clop. The sounds penetrated her hazy consciousness. She sat up. They were the sounds she’d waited hours to hear the night before…horses!
A barrage of yapping followed as she hopped out of bed and raced to the window.
Grasping the wooden frame with white-knuckled fingers, she peered out. Her heart fell with disappointment. It wasn’t riders coming in; it was men leaving. She recognized Bryan as he rode through the gate.
Good gracious, what was the matter with Pip’s pup? It was tearing back and forth in front of the gate, barking frantically. Finally, one of the men picked him up and started to carry him back toward the stables.
Pip had better keep watch over the poor little mite if he didn’t want it to get hurt. The lad was going to have to find a name for it, too. The pup was thriving and well past any danger—assuming it didn’t get trampled by horses, that is.
A glance at the sun already high on the horizon told her she had slept late and had better hurry if she didn’t want to miss the morning meal.
Maybe Gregor had returned sometime during the night? If not, she would find John and see if he could tell her anything.
Gregor couldn’t just leave. Not with all these guests. Not with their wedding only days away. At least that was what she kept telling herself.
Returning to her own chamber, she quickly washed, tugged a comb through her tangled hair, and changed her gown before racing down the stairs. When she entered the hall, she realized it must be later than she’d thought. The servants were already clearing the trays, and most of the guests and clansmen were gone.
She caught sight of Ete with her head down and darting out the back entrance—probably chasing after Maddy—and would have gone after her if she hadn’t seen John talking with Aonghus near the fireplace. Snatching a crust of bread and piece of cheese from one of the trays, Cate managed a few bites while she waited for the men to finish their conversation.
Every now and then she glanced out the window, but the man she was looking for didn’t appear. Her gaze kept being drawn back to the two men on the other side of the room. It was clear something was wrong. John looked upset and Aonghus appeared very uncomfortable, as he responded to what appeared to be a barrage of questions from John.
Questions that stopped dramatically the moment John looked up and caught her eye. Something in his expression set the hair at the back of her neck on edge. It was half apologetic and half pitying. He looked like he felt sorry for her, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know why.
God, had he left her?
Her heart thumped in her chest. He said a few more curt words to Aonghus and sent him away.
Cate approached cautiously, having the distinct impression that the conversation had been about her.
