But the anger surging through his veins grew darker and more heated. This was allherfault. Cate had done this to him. Messed with his head. Messed with other parts of him as well. But he wasn’t going to let her turn him into a damned eunuch.
He wanted other women. Of course he did.
Maggie hadn’t lied to him. Maggie hadn’t tried to trap him. Maggie hadn’t turned him into a blind, besotted fool.
He had nothing to feel guilty about, damn it. Cate had practically thrown a gauntlet down at his feet. Should she be surprised that he’d picked it up?
He drained another tankard of ale before one of his brethren could do it for him.
“I must admit, I’m surprised to see you in here with the wedding and all,” Maggie said.
He stiffened, but the lass didn’t seem to notice, as she was too busy trying to covertly—or not so covertly—brush her fingertip along the ridge of his cock.
“Some people were surprised when you chose Cate, but I wasn’t.” She waited for a response from him. Not picking up on his simmering rage, she continued. “She might be a little odd with her sword fighting and all, but she’s a real lady. Not judgmental like some of the village women, I’ll tell you that.” Maggie’s mouth pursed with distaste. “Nay, Cate is kindhearted and always has a nice word for me whenever our paths cross.”
She frowned, suddenly seeming to realize that what she was doing right now might not be viewed as graciously by Cate.
Gregor’s mouth fell in a hard line. He’d had enough. He wasn’t going to listen to Cate’s finer points from her. He stood suddenly, and barely managed to snag Maggie’s wrist to prevent her from falling to the ground. He swayed a little at the sudden movement, his head thick with drink.
But not thick enough. He took a jug from the table and tucked it under his arm. “Come, it’s a little too crowded in here. Let’s go find someplace a little more private.”
Whatever qualms Maggie had vanished. She nodded eagerly and started to drag him away.
But Campbell caught his arm and held him back. “Don’t do this, Arrow,” he said softly. “I don’t know what is going on with you and the lass, but you will regret it.”
Campbell didn’t know a damned thing. None of them did.
“Go ahead and prove me wrong…if you can.”That was exactly what he would do, damn it.
“Don’t wait for me,” Gregor said, ignoring the unsolicited and unwanted advice. “I don’t anticipate I’ll be making it back to the castle anytime soon.”
Determined, Gregor followed Maggie through the crowd to the stairs. He was so focused, he didn’t notice the small hooded form sitting quietly in the corner.
Twenty-two
Heartbreaker. Gregor’s reputation was well earned. But with all the times she’d heard it, in her arrogant belief that they were meant to be together, not once did Cate think it would be her heart that would be the one broken.
She had been seated at the table for only a few moments before Gregor walked by with Maggie, but it was long enough to see him—reallysee him. The too-handsome heartbreaker in all his roguish glory, drinking, cavorting, and looking every bit like a man without a care in the world.
One tear slid out of the tight tether she had wrapped around her shredded emotions. Furiously, she wiped it away. She couldn’t break down yet. She had to do this. She had to finish it so there would never be a doubt. Never again would she be able to delude herself that she meant something to him.
Keeping her head down and doing her best to fade into the background of the crowded, smoke-filled room, Cate wound her way around the perimeter to the door where she’d seen them exit. She was glad she’d taken the time to change her clothing. Dressed in her practice garb, with the hood of her cloak pulled low over her face, no one paid her any mind. She looked like a lad who’d just come in out of the cold.
Itwascold outside. Bitterly cold. But the chill inside her that had turned her skin and bones to ice had nothing to do with the weather.
She stepped through the doorway and saw the stairs. Her chest twisted. She’d suspected what she would find, but part of her had still held out hope that she was wrong.
Although Cate had never been in this part of the alehouse, she knew what went on here. She knew there were a few solars above where travelers might spend a night, or lonely men might find a companion from one of the women who frequented Annie’s.
Normally, Cate did not begrudge women like Maggie who’d lost their husbands to war a way of making a few extra coins. But seeing the lovely black-haired, blue-eyed woman with her generous breasts crushed against Gregor’s chest and her hands all over him had changed Cate’s mind. She’d felt very grudging indeed and wanted nothing more than to toss the brazen harlot right off his lap.
But she didn’t. She’d waited for Gregor to do it. Waited for him to realize that he couldn’t do this. That he couldn’t make love to another woman because he loved her.
He hadn’t, though. Instead, she’d watched in stricken pain as the man she loved—the man she thought she would spend her life with—let another woman put her hands on him.
Now, Cate would see the rest.
Stonily, like a woman condemned to hang climbing the scaffold, she walked up the wooden stairs. Old and rickety, they creaked as she moved, but with all the noise below, she doubted anyone above would notice.
