A rueful quirk of Alasdair’s lips signaled his agreement. “’Tis well we were schooled, as things turned out. Aye, much has changed.” He shifted forward in his seat and set the knife aside. “Tell me, then, ye just spent the journey in my future betrothed’s company. What is yer impression of the lass?”
His sudden eagerness for information about Caitrin put Jamie on guard. What difference would his opinion make in the MacGregor’s assessment of his prospective bride? He smiled, not wanting hesitation to indicate reservation or indecision on his part, but he knew he had to choose his words carefully.
“Caitrin Fletcher has grown into a lovely young woman,” he told the laird before him, choosing the most obvious course for the moment.
“Fletcher told me she spent several years at the Lathan keep after her mother died.”
“She did, poor lass.”
“And ye were acquainted with her during that time?”
“Aye, of course. Lathan children spend a great deal of time together, either in studies or training.” Or play. Jamie bit his tongue on that phrase, not sure what it would imply to the man before him. Had Caitrin told her father how close she had been to him and Toran? Had Fletcher said something to MacGregor? They’d been children, and little more than children, by the time she left, but one never knew how such friendship would be interpreted.
The MacGregor leaned back in his chair and leveled a stare at Jamie. “Fletcher tells me she is a most capable chatelaine, well-practiced in the womanly arts of running a keep.”
“On that, I canna offer an opinion.” Years ago, Jamie had mastered the art of schooling his expression, which served him in good stead as the change of subject eased some of the tension from his jaw. “Caitrin prepared for the journey before our arrival. I had nay cause to linger at Fletcher.”
“And ye renewed yer acquaintance on the way here?”
That was no question. Jamie’s hackles rose, though after a moment, he realized MacGregor’s tone had not betrayed any anger. “What are ye asking?” Surely, Uilleam’s suspicions had not been reported to the MacGregor already. They’d only just arrived. The steward had shown Jamie and the others to their chambers then informed him the the laird would see him immediately.
MacGregor cocked a speculative eyebrow and drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. But is tone remained unaccusing. “Only that I ken little about the lass except what Fletcher has related to me. I canna count his opinion of his only daughter unbiased. To his eyes, she is the most extraordinary and beautiful creature in Scotland.”
Jamie had to laugh at that, not just to acknowledge the truth of it, but to relieve his sudden tension. “Of course. But ye will soon meet the goddess in question and form yer own opinion. I think it better for ye both to allow ye to make up yer own minds.” At MacGregor’s frown, he felt compelled to add, “But I’m confident ye will be pleased.”
MacGregor stood. Jamie took that for the signal it was and got to his feet.
“Very well. I understand yer reasons. I recall ye were sensible as a lad at St. Andrews, and I see that hasna changed. I will contain my impatient curiosity for the next hour or two.”
Jamie nodded. Before he could speak to take his leave, someone knocked at the door.
“Come.” MacGregor’s brusque tone told Jamie he little liked the interruption.
Fletcher entered and nodded to both men. “MacGregor. Lathan.”
He seemed unsurprised to find them together, though Jamie doubted Fletcher knew of their shared history.
“My daughter is resting from her journey and preparing to meet ye.”
MacGregor nodded. “I’ll greet her before the evening meal, as we discussed. Privately. Bring her here.”
“Aye, MacGregor, I will.” Fletcher nodded to Jamie. “I’ll leave ye to it, then.”
“The Lathan emissary was just leaving,” MacGregor announced. “I’ve work to do before meeting my future betrothed. Ye will sit with me at table, of course.” The comment was directed at Jamie, not at Fletcher, whom, Jamie suspected, already enjoyed that honor.
“I’ll look forward to it.” Jamie took his cue and walked to the door with Fletcher. As they exited the solar, he glanced back. The expression on MacGregor’s face did not reassure him. Something coldly speculative glinted in his eyes.
Chapter Six
She couldn’t put off the introduction much longer. Nan had finished arranging her hair. Sighing, Caitrin stood, smoothed her skirt, and reached for the baubles she’d chosen to wear. Just in time. As she finished with the last clasp, a knock sounded at the door, and Nan admitted her father into the sitting room. Caitrin went to greet him as the young maid slipped inside the bed chamber. Caitrin supposed she would eavesdrop while giving the appearance of allowing them to speak in private.
“Caitrin, lass. Are ye rested?”
“Aye. I’m pleased to be here and off the back of a horse.”
“Glad I am to hear ye say that. I believe the MacGregor is almost ready to sign the betrothal agreement. All he lacks is to meet ye and be charmed by yer wit and beauty.”
Her pulse kicked up. Nerves, of course. She had reason to be nervous, with all her father’s aspirations sitting on her shoulders. And Jamie present to witness the betrothal on behalf of the Lathan. She nearly frowned, but schooled her features. No sense alerting her father she had doubts about the match. Not yet.
