“Ye should be, aye. But yer laird has more to answer for.”
Jamie had to chuckle at that. “More than ye can imagine. But I thought ye always liked him, the way ye chased after him.”
“Nay. Ye were my friend, Jamie. Toran never was. No’ really.” She paused, staring off into the darkness for a moment. “I owe ye both a lot.”
Her tone made it clear she didn’t mean in retribution.
“Nay, lass.”
“Aye. Ye made me stronger than I wouldha been. I learned woodcraft, how to fight, to be a good marksman with a bow, skills most girls, most women, never imagine making their own. It made me more confident. I was ripped away from my home after my ma died. Alone and afraid. Without the two of ye, I wouldna survived the grief.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. Jamie clenched his fist against the urge to reach out and wipe it away with his thumb. He must not touch her. Not tenderly. Never with the hunger that filled him and stole his breath. He could barely speak around the lump that had formed in his throat. “I kent it must be hard for a lass, but ye never seemed distraught. Ye were always game to get involved in anything. Ye nearly drove Toran daft.”
“But no’ ye.”
“Nay.” Jamie hesitated. Should he say it? Aye, the wee lass within her needed to hear it. “I always liked ye. Ye werena like the other lasses.”
She choked back a laugh. “I wasna that, for sure.” Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, but she wiped them away. “If this is what reminiscing does to ye, I dinna recommend it.”
“Ye need sleep, Caitrin. Ye are worn out. We’ll talk again when ye’re rested. Between us, I’m sure we can skewer Toran well and thoroughly.”
She stood and rested a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “Ye should rest, too, my old friend.”
He nodded, but his pulse kicked up at her touch. Caitrin left him and settled herself on her pallet. Jamie sat by the fire until her eyes closed and her breathing evened out in sleep. It was going to be a long night.
****
They rose with the sun. Despite Caitrin’s growing reluctance to face the future her father intended to arrange for her, she was glad when they got back on the trail shortly afterward. The sooner they reached MacGregor, the sooner she’d have answers.
The conversation she’d had with Jamie the previous evening left her questioning how she felt about him, about the idea of the marriage her father wanted for her, even her memories of the time she’d spent at the Aerie. Had Toran teased her as much as she remembered? Had Jamie been so kind? In her mind, she’d painted them as two sides of the same coin—dark and light, bad and good. Now she was mature enough to recognize that nothing was ever so clear cut. Toran had teased her, but he’d included her in their outings. Jamie had been her friend and protector, but he’d gone along with Toran, too.
Two nights ago in the Fletcher’s solar, Jamie’s reaction to her demand that he tell her about Alasdair MacGregor had bemused her, despite the sense he made in refusing. But the more she thought about it, the more it worried her. The sooner they got to MacGregor, the sooner she would see what had caused Jamie’s disquiet. His insistence that she be allowed to make up her own mind, uninfluenced by his opinions, hadn’t been a lie, exactly, but he’d certainly evaded giving her an answer.
When they arrived at MacGregor, along with her intended betrothed, she expected her father would be there to receive them, and he would give her the first clue. She could read him like a book, and might know, simply by the way he greeted her, how the negotiations had gone before her arrival. If he was tense and anxious, she’d know that things weren’t going his way. Fletcher was always happiest when he got what he wanted. But too much joviality would not be a good sign, either. If things were bad enough for him to hide his fears behind false laughter, she could expect they’d be back on the trail to Fletcher in no time. And that might be for the best, if it meant spending more time with Jamie without the confusion that the impending betrothal caused both of them.
The MacGregor keep came into sight just after midday. Caitrin could only compare it to Fletcher and to the Lathan’s Aerie. It appeared to be about the same size as the Aerie, larger than Fletcher, though less imposing than her girlish imaginings had led her to picture in her mind. It commanded the top of a wide, gently sloped hill. A burn ran at its base before it, bridged by a wooden structure the width of three horses. A village sprawled across the burn off to one side. All in all, it was impressive, and that made her blood run cold.
Will, riding beside her, caught Caitrin’s gaze and grinned.
She doubted he shared her father’s ambitions, but she could almost hear him thinking,This could be yers. She fought back a nervous grimace and looked away. She had to be strong. Her father’s hopes rested on her shoulders.
Jamie rode in his usual place at the head of their group. She could not see his face, and she wanted to. What did he think of their destination? Imposing, or just another in a long list of keeps and castles he had visited?
Would Jamie think her worthy of such a place?Did she? Now they’d arrived, doubts she’d ignored since her father had announced his plans caused her skin to prickle.
As expected, Fletcher met them at the inner gate. He looked well and strong as he helped her alight from her horse. His appearance relieved her mind, though she could not say why she would have expected him to look any differently. She knew he had earned MacGregor’s displeasure, which was one reason Fletcher proposed this marriage. Had she feared seeing her father’s head on a pike at the gate, or thought he’d be awaiting her arrival in the dungeon? Nay, nerves made her imagination run rampant.
But a frisson of unease disrupted her pleasure at seeing her father. What would Will tell him about their trip?
“’Tis good to see ye, lass. How was the journey?”
“As well as could be, Father.” She glanced around at the bustle of activity in the bailey. “But where is the MacGregor?”
“He will see ye before dinner. He wished to allow ye to refresh yerself from the journey before meeting ye.”
Did he? Or had her father insisted? First impressions carried weight, and the Fletcher knew that. He didn’t seem overly concerned, which made Caitrin think nothing had been decided, but negotiations continued. Which meant she still had an opportunity to influence the outcome.
Will greeted her father, but a stablehand interrupted them before he could say anything to cause trouble for Caitrin.
