He supposed it was the novelty that was drawing him. But he was surprisingly eager for the second part of his night to begin. He couldn’t wait to see whether the glimpse of raw sensuality was as hot as it appeared.
He’d blocked out the simpering and giggling of the maidservant who’d been given the task of bathing him, but heard it now as she began to help him into his braies. He didn’t encourage her obvious interest, however, and quickly donned his breeches, tunic, and plaid, wincing when he had to lift his hands over his shoulders. He allowed her to help him pull on his boots to avoid bending over, but buckled the dirk that he was never without around his waist himself.
His hair was still damp as he made his way across the courtyard from the makeshift bathhouse in a small corner of the kitchens, where the fire had not only kept him warm but had proved efficient at heating the water as well.
There weren’t many people milling about as the feast had already gotten underway, but he greeted a few of the guardsmen who were posted around thebarmkin. Even before he climbed the stairs and entered the East Range of the castle, he could hear the raucous sounds of celebrating coming from the open windows of the Great Hall. He was glad to see that he wasn’t the last to arrive, as the corridor to his left was still filled with people making their way into the celebration. Before he could follow them, MacKay blocked his path.
“You’re late,” he snapped.
Kenneth’s jaw locked in what had become almost a reflex when it came to his interactions with his future brother-in-law. “You have the fine makings of a nursemaid if you ever get tired of warfare. I didn’t realize my comings and goings were so important to you.”
MacKay returned his glare. “They aren’t. The king sent me to see what was taking you so long.”
“I had something to attend to.”
MacKay smiled. “Helen told me you were injured. I hope it isn’t serious.” He shook his head in mock disappointment. “It would be a shame if you lost tomorrow.”
“Helen exaggerates. I’ll be fine to fight tomorrow, and just like all the other events, I’ll win. I hope you are ready for a new partner.”
MacKay’s eyes flared. “If you win tomorrow, you’ll deserve to be my partner. But I wouldn’t count my victories too soon; it’s not over yet.”
Kenneth wasn’t listening; he barely registered MacKay’s half-smile before turning away. Out of the corner of his eye, something had caught his attention. Or should he saysomeonehad caught his attention?
“You’re fortunate Lady Mary hasn’t arrived yet,” MacKay said.
Another Mary. Kenneth had forgotten Atholl’s widow’s given name was Mary. His mind was on the Mary at the other end of the corridor, near the donjon. At least he thought it was her. He couldn’t see her face, but the clothes were dark and plain enough to stand out.
Except this woman seemed to belaughing. She was looking up at the man opposite her—
Kenneth stopped.Bloody hell.
Without realizing it, his fists clenched at his sides and his mouth fell in a hard line.
Why was she talking to Gregor MacGregor?
He started toward them.
“Where in Hades are you going?” MacKay called after him. “The king is waiting for you.”
But Kenneth was too angry to heed him. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”
He heard MacKay mumble something along the lines of “it better be important” behind him, but he was already striding—stalking was probably more accurate—down the corridor.
As he drew nearer, his instincts were confirmed. It was his nun. She’d changed for the feast into a gown of deep emerald silk and a matching veil, albeit without the ghastly wimple. He could actually see her neck. It was a pretty one, long and slender, with creamy-smooth, milky-white skin. His eyes narrowed. What else was she hiding? The cut of the gown was still shapeless and the embellishments still plain, but he supposed green was a marginal improvement over black. The color, however, was too dark and harsh against her fair skin—
He stopped himself. Bloody hell, he sounded like a lady’s maid. He couldn’t recall ever noticing a lady’s attire before—except perhaps to figure out how to get it off.
His steps fell a little harder and his mouth grew a little flatter as he drew closer. He didn’t know why he was so irritated. But when she put her hand on MacGregor’s arm, looked up at him, and smiled, Kenneth felt a spike of something hotter and edgier than mere irritation.
MacGregor saw him first and nodded. “Sutherland.”
Kenneth could tell by the tone in his voice that he’d sensed something was wrong, though damned if he knew what it was any better than MacGregor did.
Lady Mary turned on hearing his name. The smile immediately slipped from her face. Why that reaction bothered him, he didn’t know, but it damn well did.
His jaw clenched. “The feast has started,” he bit out.
The lady ignored him. “Thank you, my lord,” she said to MacGregor. “I fear I would have been looking for hours without your help.”
