Page 37
“My lady,” he replied. They stood before her in the great hall of Lennox Castle, rather small but well-appointed. It was important, Conrad had said, for them to secure the countess’s support. Her husband, who had signed the order’s letter to the king, had since died. Lady Lennox would decide whether or not to send her men to march with Conrad, a show of support that may tip the scales, for the late Lord Lennox had been one of King John’s longtime supporters . . . until he’d felt compelled to take a stand against him.
“Allow me to introduce Lady Cait Kennaugh, sister of the chief of Clan Kennaugh in the borderlands, and Earl of Dromsley. She is my intended.”
Cait did not show the wily Lady Lennox her surprise, but her chest clenched at Conrad’s words. Intended?
That had not been their plan.
“I fear her chaperone was injured last eve, necessitating the woman’s return to Licheford.”
That much, while not entirely true, had been rehearsed. But they’d decided she would be introduced as his cousin, not his intended. What was he about? Injured or nay, a woman not related to Conrad, traveling with him . . .
And of course Lady Lennox looked at her with suspicion.
Ignoring Conrad’s marshal, who cleared his throat behind them, no doubt uncomfortable with the lie, Cait met and held the gaze of the elderly Lady Lennox, after bowing, of course.
Conrad was right, after all, she was the only sister of a man who was both a chieftain and an earl. And she had done nothing improper, yet. She’d not be set down by anyone, including this recently widowed countess.
“I am very sorry to hear of your chaperone’s injury,” the countess said. “Was it a serious one?”
“Not so that she will be unable to recover quickly, I do hope. She scratched her leg on a branch.”
“It festered,” Ansel blurted behind her.
Aware he should not have spoken yet, the marshal immediately apologized. And Cait tried not to smile at the man’s clumsy attempt at support. She would be sure to thank him later.
“You and your chaperone are brave indeed, to join Lord Licheford and his men on such a dangerous mission.”
Though the countess spoke to her, Conrad answered. “My lady is very much so, but I fear her chaperone’s constitution was not as hearty as hers.”
Cait tried desperately not to smile. The poor man Conrad spoke of had endured many jests this morn about his run-in with a branch. Poor man. He’d only recently been knighted.
Lady Lennox did not comment. She did, however, finally allow them to leave.
“I’ve had rooms prepared. And we shall speak after supper, Lord Licheford. If that is agreeable to you?”
“It is.” Conrad bowed again. “You do us a great honor, my lady.”
Cait did not like her.
She may be wealthy. And powerful. And a woman. Cait liked nothing better than to see another woman in a position of power. And yet, she could tell this woman judged her.
Attempting to ignore her feelings, for the sake of their cause, Cait smiled broadly.
“Many thanks, Lady Lennox, for your hospitality.”
The countess did not return her smile. Her only response was a murmur that Cait could not even hear.
Following a chambermaid from the hall, Cait kept her expression neutral until she was shown to a small room—directly beside Conrad’s. The girl gestured for her to step inside, and with nothing to recommend her staying in the passageway, she did so. But not before she caught Conrad’s eye, the promise there making her shiver.
They’d ridden beside each other all day, only stopping once. They’d talked, laughed, and likely bewildered the men with their most unusual situation. But there was tension between them too—different than it had been before. The look he gave her now promised the kisses they’d shared were just the beginning of all that he could teach her.
Would he come to her tonight?
Did she want him to after what he had just done?
Conrad’s intended.
Instead of meeting his sly grin with one of her own, Cait gave him a look that told him he would answer for what he’d said. And the cad simply widened his smile, accepting the challenge and issuing one of his own.
