“It appears your new wife has come for a visit to see her brother,” Argyll said, taking up the slack in the conversation.
“I see,” Jamie said tightly, his instincts confirmed. Disappointment curdled in his stomach. He wanted to get the hell out of here and ride as far from her as possible.
“I told her she was too late,” Argyll said, giving him a meaningful glance. “That Niall was already gone.”
Jamie shot his cousin a look. Argyll obviously had wanted Caitrina to think Niall dead, but her face bore no signs of grief. He turned back to his cousin, giving no hint of his impatience. He knew his cousin well enough to know he would not be rushed. What game did he play?
“Naturally, I expected her to assume him dead.”
Jamie’s gaze flickered to Caitrina, but she betrayed no reaction to Argyll’s words. “Naturally,” Jamie said wryly, his cousin’s purpose having become suddenly clear to him. The betrayals of Argyll’s youth had left its mark on his cousin—loyalty was of utmost importance to him. Obviously, Caitrina’s sudden appearance had made him question hers. Jamie appreciated his cousin’s sentiment, but he could fight his own damn battles.
Argyll gave him a look that said he knew exactly what Jamie was thinking and thought he was doing a piss poor job of it.
Caitrina finally spoke. “But I didn’t believe him.”
Jamie felt a dim ray of hope and looked to his cousin for confirmation.
“She seems to have a rather high opinion of you.” Argyll’s expression changed to one of barely concealed annoyance. “And assumes I share that opinion.”
“I see,” Jamie repeated. The sudden show of faith was something, he supposed, but not enough—and too late. He hardened himself against the soft pleading in her eyes and looked away.
“I was about to explain my recent disappointment when you came in.” Argyll turned his attention back to Caitrina. “It seems my normally diligent captain made a careless mistake on his way to Dunoon.”
“He did?” Caitrina asked warily.
“Yes,” his cousin said. “It seems your brother slipped away when they stopped to water the horses. Jamie and his men gave chase, but he disappeared.” Argyll gave Jamie a sharp look. It was a look that said he knew exactly what Jamie had done but would never voice his suspicions—not when Jamie’s actions in effect had made it easier on him. Argyll would not be held accountable. There was only one person Colin would blame.
“Niall escaped?” She turned to Jamie, incredulity written on her face. He could see the questions form, but wisely she kept them to herself—for now, at least. “And the others?”
“Free to return to Rothesay,” Jamie said. “I was seeing to their release when you arrived.”
Caitrina looked stunned. “I don’t know what to say.” Her eyes fell on Argyll. “Thank you.”
“Thank him,” Argyll said with a wave of his hand toward Jamie. “ ’Twas he who paid the gold to see their crimes atoned.”
“Jamie, I . . .”
Before she could say anything more, Jamie took her arm and steered her toward the door. “If you’ll excuse us, I’ll see my wife settled in her chamber.”
“If you need anything else,” Argyll said dryly, “just let me know.”
Jamie threw him a quelling glance, but the amusement in Argyll’s eyes only annoyed him further. Oh yes, his grim cousin was a regular court jester at times. Argyll might be satisfied by the display of loyalty, but Jamie wasn’t.
The chamberlain had readied the third-floor chamber in the south tower—the one Lizzie used when she stayed at Dunoon. Fresh water had been brought up, and the few items that Caitrina had brought with her were laid out on the bed for night.
He quickly looked away from the bed and stood stiffly near the fireplace as the chamberlain closed the door behind him.
As soon as the man had gone, Caitrina moved to stand before him, her soft feminine scent clouding his senses. Would it always be like this—this clawing need for her? The inability to think when she was near? The feeling that if he didn’t take her in his arms and kiss her, he would surely die?
“Jamie, I’m so sorr—”
“My men will see to your return to Rothesay in the morning,” he clipped, cutting off her apology.
“Are you not coming with me?”
He heard the quiver in her voice but kept his eyes fixed on the wall behind her head, refusing to meet her gaze. The steel vise enclosing his chest tightened. “I believe you made your wishes quite clear. I will return to Castleswene. You need not fear that I will interfere with anything you wish to do.” His meaning was obvious: They would lead separate lives. His gut twisted. The thought of her with another man . . .
“But . . .”
