Page 8 of In Bed with her Highland Foe

“Nay. I dinnae believe we have,” Captain Gilchrist’s answer came without hesitation.

Kyven attempted to catch his eye, even going so far as to stand on her tiptoes, but his eyes remained firmly fixed on Laird Shay, never once glancing away or even blinking.

“Nay? How odd.” Laird Shay raised a hand in his direction as if he was waving it across Captain Gilchrist’s body, the better to take on the view. “Nay, ye are right. The man I kenned before was a little different tae ye. Had more… presence.”

A muscle twitched in Gilchrist’s cheek.

What does that mean?

Kyven exchanged a confused glance with Helen behind her.

Aaden cleared his throat and Kyven took the helpful hint. They had done enough standing about as Laird Shay and Gilchrist looked at one another with such chilly stares.

“Now that that is settled, would ye come inside, me laird? I shall give ye the tour and later this evening, we have made arrangements for a supper tae welcome ye tae the castle,” Kyven said hurriedly. Laird Shay turned toward her, but Gilchrist did not abandon his stare.

“Aye, that would be most kind, thank ye.” He stepped up to her side, moving into the castle and giving Kyven the second she needed to step in front of Gilchrist and click her fingers at him.

“What is wrong with ye?” she hissed, at last earning his attention.

“Ye are nae walking about this castle alone with him.”

“Alone with me betrothed, ye mean?” she reminded Gilchrist in a hiss. He looked away once again, and neither of them had a chance to discuss the matter any further as Shay was now walking across the vast entrance hall, admiring everything around him.

“What architecture! Baroque, if I am nae mistaken? Built by yer father, Lady Kyven, if I understand correctly?” He didn’t wait for her answer but swept an admiring gaze across the grand staircase and the stone pillars which held the vaulted rooftop aloft. “Aye, finely made indeed. It is a pleasant home ye have here.”

“Aye, it has its cozy corners,” she murmured, placing the carved box into Helen’s hands to look after. “If ye will follow me, I shall show ye around.” She walked through the nearest door, aware that the council members were fussing over the other men in Laird Shay’s entourage, all except one, a mousy-looking man with auburn hair who shuffled behind Shay, as if he was the Laird’s shadow.

“Ye dinnae mind if me advisor accompanies us, dae ye? Larry, stand straight and greet the lady of the clan.”

Larry did as he was told, seeming more like a boy than a man until he did so. His face stiffened and Kyven suddenly saw why he was part of a laird’s entourage, given such a formidable countenance.

“Aye, of course ye may accompany us.” Kyven gestured for him to follow too as they entered the feasting chamber. Laird Shay and Larry followed. Gilchrist walked around the table and came close to Kyven, so near in fact that at one point, he was in danger of stepping on the hem of her gown. “This is the oldest part of the castle, dating back two hundred years or more.”

“A fine feasting room,” Laird Shay complimented, wandering along the other side of the table, though he didn’t seem to be looking so much at the chamber as at Kyven. “It would make a fine room fer a wedding feast, dae ye nae think, me lady?”

Kyven abruptly stopped walking and behind her, Gilchrist walked straight into her. They stumbled and he laid a hand on her waist to stop them from falling over. Such heat passed through her at his touch that she didn’t imagine she was sitting at this table with Laird Shay for a wedding feast, but rather with him. Hastily, she brushed him off and stepped away from him.

“We shall see,” she said coolly.

Deciding not to make eye contact with either Laird Shay or Captain Gilchrist for the rest of the tour, she walked on at a pace.

“This way. There is a lot tae see.”

Time tae say goodbye.

Gilchrist watched Kyven like a falcon, his arms folded, as they stood in the garden, looking out over the training grounds at the soldiers to their left and the fine borders of the formal garden to their right. She and Laird Shay were standing close together, and though on this tour Shay had done a very good job of pretending Gilchrist did not exist, Larry was not such an adept actor.

Larry stood but a yard from Gilchrist, watching him the same way Gilchrist watched Kyven – unrelenting fixedness.

“Ye give a fine tour, me lady,” Laird Shay said with cool charm.

Ye disgust me.

Gilchrist couldn’t fathom what was happening. His eyes darted from the ring finger on Shay’s hand which was bare and empty, to the simpering smile he kept offering Kyven. Shay should have been married. Last Gilchrist had heard, he had managed to wed Gilchrist’s childhood sweetheart, Elisa. What could have happened? Why was Shay here now about to marry the other woman who had captivated Gilchrist’s heart?

“Ye are a flatterer, are ye nae?” Kyven said perceptively. “I’d rather hear what ye think of the castle than me presentation. If we are tae marry as the council wish us to, and if ye are tae be laird of me people, I need tae ken ye will treat this as yer home, me laird. That it will mean as much tae ye as it does tae me.”

“Rest assured.” Laird Shay bowed deeply once more, though he never once took his eyes off Kyven.