Page 19 of When a Highlander Vows
“Thank ye, Arla. I will think on that,” Caitlin said, walking to the pewter bowl on her dark oak dressing table and dipping her hands into it.
The water was ice cold, and she shivered as she splashed it onto her face. But it was refreshing, and it helped to keep the sadness from her eyes. She dried her face on the strip of wool laid next to the bowl, and then Arla helped her dress, telling her all about goings on in the castle and clan. Caitlin was grateful for the incessant chatter, as it quieted the harsh words of her mind, reminding her of her new fate.
“Then, he told me he saw the pair of them kissin’ outside the hay barn only last night.”
Caitlin hadn’t been listening too intently to Arla’s stories, but at the mention of kissing and the words ‘last night’, she jolted to attention.
“Who was kissin’, Arla?” she asked, suddenly worried that she and the laird had been seen.
“Och, just the stable hand and one of the maids from the Castle. He’s been eyein’ her for about two months now, but he’s nae one so pretty to look at. Nae like the Laird, mind ye.” Arla giggled, putting one hand over her mouth while Caitlin exhaled with relief.
“All the lasses from here to as far as MacGregor Clan wish he would choose a wife,” Arla said. “He’s strong, with a face like iron, skilled with a sword, and skilled with other things so I hear.” Arla giggled again, and Caitlin blushed at the insinuation.
She was reminded of Rachel discussing the ‘tool’ used in lovemaking, and she thought about how she’d felt a hardness against her body as she and the laird had stood so close. A hardness far lower than his muscled chest.
“Och, ye must think me vulgar, Miss.” Arla kept laughing, however. “I shouldnae be sayin’ such things, but I wanted ye to ken all that goes on here at the Castle, so that ye feel right at home. One must ken all the gossip of a place afore one can feel truly comfortable.”
Arla stepped in front of Caitlin just after she finished pinning her into her woolen bodice. “What do ye think, Miss? Is he nae a handsome man?”
With eyes like shards of midnight.
“Aye. But it is nae me place to say, Arla. I am just a guest, and he is helpin’ me.”
Arla stood beside her, and they both faced the looking glass. Caitlin was close enough to see her reflection clearly.
“Come now. Ye are a special guest. He is here to protect and help ye. Give ye shelter. I say ye are free to think of his good looks whenever ye like.” Arla’s grin widened. “He has likely thought of how bonnie ye are as well.”
“Och, Arla.” Caitlin’s embarrassment grew to such a degree that her cheeks burned, and she put her hands on them, hoping to cool them down. “Ye mustnae say such things.”
Arla laughed good naturedly. “Forgive me, Miss. Come, let me plait yer hair, and then ye will be ready for the day and to approach the breakfast table. Such lovely locks, Miss.” Arla braided her hair and pinned it up at the base of her neck.
Caitlin had to admit that Rachel had never done such a skillful job. “Thank ye. Ye have done well.”
Beaming, Arla nodded and said, “Ye are ready for breakfast, Miss. Enjoy yerself.” She winked at Caitlin before picking up the bucket and leaving the chamber.
After a few calming breaths, she smoothed her hands over her gown and walked out of the door, shutting it quietly behind her. But a small meow at her feet made her look down.
“Och, ye darlin’ thing,” Caitlin said, bending down to pick up the sweet ginger cat which looked eager to be held.
The cat started purring as soon as she gripped it to her. She started walking when a deep voice from behind her said, “That cat will kill ye as soon as look at ye. To strangers, at least.”
She turned around to see Lucas coming down the passage toward her. All equilibrium she’d tried to gather in her chamber before exiting left her in one sudden whoosh.
Lucas had hoped to be down to breakfast and had eaten before Caitlin took her own meal, but he’d slept in after a late night of brooding and looking through maps to discover who the mysterious men might be. And clearly, fate was against him, or rather his grandmother was at it again, for he was walking down the passageway from his chamber just as Caitlin was exiting hers.
Just me luck,he thought to himself and watched as Percy, having sauntered from his chamber some time ago, decided that Caitlin’s skirts were the place to rub against.
Traitor.
He watched as she leaned down and picked the fussy cat up with ease, when Percy never really enjoyed anyone besides him and his Nan. But clearly, the cat was under her spell as well. The smile on her face as she held the cat set his heart to fluttering again. He put a hand on his chest and rubbed at the spot, willing it to stop.
His mood still sour after what happened last evening, he said in a low voice, “That cat will kill ye as soon as he looks at ye. To strangers, at least.”
Caitlin looked shocked as she turned around, Percy still in her arms, rubbing happily against her neck.
After her look of surprise vanished, she said, “It seems he is fine with strangers.”
Lucas glowered, and he stood at a distance from her, glad she couldn’t see the angry expression on his face.
