“With what?” he asked, puzzled.
“Come with me and I will show you.” She hitched up her dress and ran up the stairs in front of him so that he had a tempting glimpse of her calves and ankles.
She led him into a bedroom, and something about it made him realize it was hers. He groaned inwardly at the sweet temptation before him.
She had opened a drawer and brought out a little crimson velvet box, which she gave to him. “See if this looks familiar,” she said, hugging herself. She was afraid of his disappointment.
He opened it very slowly, took out the locket, then opened it. He gasped in amazement, and stared at it open-mouthed for a moment, then to her astonishment his eyes filled with tears that spilled over and ran unchecked down his face and dripped onto the jewel.
“Oh God, Caitlyn,” he said huskily, “you have no idea how much this means to Ava and me.” He dashed the tears away impatiently with the back of his hands but they kept falling anyway. “This is all we had of our mother, and we thought it was gone forever. Where did you find it?”
“In a shop in Inverness,” she replied, trying not to show how much his tears moved her. “I am having the woman who sold it to me watched in case she makes contact with the robbers. You killed two, but there may be more of them who were not there that day. I could have marched right in with a troop of guards, brought her back to the castle, and interrogated her, but that would have let them know that we were aware of them. I think we need to do this quietly.” She sighed and spread her hands. “Should I give it to Ava tomorrow?”
“Surprise her,” he suggested, smiling.
“Would you not rather do it yourself?” she asked shyly.
“No. It is your gift.” He looked down into her eyes and his own were warm and glowing. “But I forgot to say thank you, and Caitlyn, this time I am not going to apologize for kissing you. You deserve to be kissed.”
Then he bent down, folded his arms around her, and their lips met in the sweetest kiss they had ever shared. He strained her body against him and she gave a moan of pleasure, then Caitlyn realized that she never wanted to leave the circle of his embrace. Their tongues touched and twined around each other, driving them to new heights of desire, a desire Caitlyn knew they would be unable to fulfill, at least for a time. When they drew apart she leaned her head on his shoulder and drew in breath after breath of his body’s natural scent. It was heavenly.
Then, mustering every ounce of her willpower, she pulled away from him, closed the box, and put it away. She turned away to go downstairs again but he stopped her.
“Are you going to marry Robert?” he asked suddenly, surreptitiously crossing his fingers behind his back. Her answer would change the course of his life.
“I am not going to marry anyone,” she answered grimly. “At least not yet. I want that gang of robbers and rapists put away before I do anything else. We need to get rid of them before they do any more damage.”
She did not tell him that she had made this resolution because of the damage they had done to the minds of her friends. How many more had been affected and were suffering like them? It had taken Ava months to recover, and look what had happened to the man Caitlyn loved when she gave him back his lost treasure.
Suddenly she realized the meaning of the thought that had just passed through her mind. The man she loved. It was true—she loved Alastair. She had resisted it and fought against it, and now the battle was over and love had won, but she could not tell him yet. She had a mission to fulfill, and right now she had another: she had to tell Robert that she would never be his wife.
When she went downstairs, she took a deep breath before she went over to see him. He was standing alone, his fair hair catching the light from the chandelier above him.
He is so kind,she thought.Lord, forgive me for what I am about to do.
She went up to stand by his side, and when she spoke, she could not meet his eyes.
“Robert, forgive me, but we must stop seeing each other,” she told him. Her eyes were soft with sadness. “I know that you expected marriage, but I cannot marry anyone—not yet, anyway.”
Robert sighed sorrowfully. “I knew as soon as I saw Alastair Duncan—”
Caitlyn held up a hand for silence. “No, Robert.” She shook her head. “It’s not Alastair. I have something to do first, and I cannot commit to marriage with anyone, neither you nor Alastair, although you are two of the finest men I know.”
He smiled at her sadly. “I am disappointed, of course, but I know that my life will go on, as will yours. Good luck in your venture, Caitie, and with all your future endeavors, and if ever you should need a friend I am here.” He bowed, kissed her hand, and walked away. A moment later she saw him saying goodnight to her mother and father, then her mother turned around to look for her, but she had melted into the shadows.
From the gallery above the Great Hall, Alastair, also standing in the shadows, watched the little drama between Caitlyn and her suitor unfold. Robert looked upset, and he felt a twinge of pity for him.
He saw Caitlyn move away as her mother came looking for her, then smiled; she had made her escape. Suddenly he felt very tired, and the thought of going back to the ceilidh amongst the noise and the crush of people was extremely unappealing.
Accordingly, he went downstairs to say goodnight to his hosts, pleading tiredness and too much to drink. This was not altogether untrue, although the real reason for his departure was simply that he hated crowds of people.
He undressed, lay down on his bed, and relived the kiss over and over again, then he took one of the big pillows on the bed and cuddled it, pretending that it was Caitlyn. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered, and drifted into sleep with a smile on his face.
Only a few of the guests had stayed overnight, and they departed after breakfast, leaving only the Duncans, who had been invited to stay.
After breakfast they began to exchange presents, and Eileen was enchanted with the gold and opal ring from Caitlyn, exclaiming over its beauty and holding it up to the light to examine it better. She had given her father a set of silver and crystal rosary beads because he had broken his ebony ones, but had had to think hard about what to get for Alastair. She had finally decided on a leather-bound diary the exact color of the mahogany panels in his office, with gold trim at each corner and gilt-edged pages. It was a work of art, and his eyes lit up when he saw it.
“How beautiful,” he breathed. “Thank you Caitie.”
