Page 51 of A Scot to Wed

“Ach, sorry. I was watching the game.” He glanced briefly at Katie, then returned his attention to the game. Katie shook her head and straightened.

“Gavin.” Evan’s deep voice drew the boy’s notice.

“Aye?” Abruptly the lad shifted his position and looked at Evan, his shoulders straight.

“Yer sister is speaking with ye, lad. ’Tis not a monly thing to do to ignore a lady when she speaks with ye.”

He ignored the snort that came from his wife.

“Aye. ’Tis sorry I am, Katie.” He looked directly at his sister, but his eyes kept returning to the game.

“Ach. ’Tis fine, Gavin. Enjoy yerself. We will see ye in the morning.” Katie kissed the top of the boy’s head and took Evan’s outstretched hand. “Will Alasdair be watching him?”

“Aye. I reminded him earlier that he’s to keep a watch on the lad. ’Twill be a good thing when we’re on our way.” They made their way across the room, ignoring the calls for them to have a bedding ceremony. Most of the men were drunk, and if they attempted to carry him up the stairs, as was the tradition, he would probably land on his head and have no wedding night at all.

Once they reached the top of the stairs, Evan bent and scooped Katie into his arms. He strode to his bedchamber and kicked the door open, shutting it with his foot. The short walk to the bed was long enough for him to enjoy a taste of Katie’s sweet, warm mouth. He dumped her on the bed, and she bounced a few times, giggling like a wee lass.

Evan grinned as he began to unbutton his shirt, staring at her as she raised herself up on her elbows to study him. “Now ’tis time formycelebration, lass.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Katie snuggled closer to the warmth at her back. As she slowly came out of her slumber, she felt sore between her legs and realized she was naked. Her eyes snapped open. Except for the night in the cottage, she’d never slept without a nightgown before. Confused for a moment, she frowned and turned toward the source of the warmth.

Evan.

Her husband.

He slowly opened his eyes and smiled. She smiled back and felt happy and content for the first time in years. She now had someone to help her, someone to take part in the burdens that she’d carried since her mum’s death.

“Good morning, lass.” Evan’s morning voice was raspy and low and did strange things to her insides.

“Good morning.” Her voice didn’t sound much better.

He reached out and took a strand of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “I’d like more than anything to have another romp with ye, but we have much to do in order to leave in a few days.”

Katie shifted to prop her head up on her hand. “That soon?”

“Aye. I’ve already hired a land steward, Ian MacDuff and his wife. Before we leave, I’ll oversee the moving of many of yer clansmen from the castle to the cottages we found.”

Katie stiffened. “I thought I would take care of that since they are my people?” For truth, she was a bit put out that Evan would even make these decisions without consulting her first. Theywereher people. She’d brought them here, and she should be the one to oversee their move.

“Nay.” Evan waved her off. “Ye will be busy packing and speaking with Ian’s wife—if I remember, her name is Fiona. Introduce her to the servants and give her a tour so she kens what’s what.” Evan moved to rise from the bed, but Katie clamped her hand around his arm.

“Wait.”

“What?” He turned toward her, but ’twas obvious his mind was not focused on her. He looked in her direction, but his expression was blank and his thoughts were miles away.

Katie sat up and leaned against the headboard, dragging the blanket with her to cover herself. Even though they’d made love twice the night before, and once in the cottage, she was not comfortable with her nakedness. Seeing as how Evan was ready to jump up, minus his clothes, he apparently did not have that problem.

“I’m not too happy with ye making all these plans and decisions without asking me.” She hoped her words came out forcefully and not whiny, like some insipid lass.

His only response was raised eyebrows.

She straightened her shoulders, her annoyance growing. “Aye. ’Tis something I wanted to discuss with ye before we wed. But ye were in such a great hurry that we never had time.”

Now he looked as though she had grown another head while she sat there. “’Tis nothing to discuss. I am yer laird.”

She counted to ten, attempting to quell her growing irritation. She did not want to start off a marriage with bickering. She calmly said, in a verra soft voice, “That’s it? That is yer response?”