Page 57 of Her Highland Prophecy
Diana’s eyes snapped open as he leaned back. She brought her hand where he had just kissed her, a question in her bright-green eyes.
“Good night, me Sassenach Princess,” he whispered and stood.
“Good night, Gordain,” she replied.
Gordain walked out of her chamber, his mind still in a daze and so full of thoughts of Diana that he almost didn’t notice the man that was waiting for him there.
“Jaimie! What are ye doing here,a co-ogha?” he asked, nodding to the raven-haired man. He looked around. Despite her earlier words, Eleanor was nowhere to be seen.
“Cousin,” Jaimie greeted solemnly. “I only wanted to see how yer Sassenach was doing.”
Gordain was taken aback by his words. Jaimie had not shown any particular interest in Diana since she had arrived. If anything, he had been vaguely hostile toward her during their betrothal dinner the night they arrived. So why was he suddenly interested in her well-being?
“She is doing well,” he answered. “Is that all ye needed?”
The two men stared at each other in the eyes, Jaimie’s blue meeting Gordain’s green in a challenge.
“Why are ye really here, Jaimie?” Gordain asked.
“Are certain ye are making a guid choice in her? Ye need a strong lass and yer Sassenach seems awfully…fragile.” Jaimie said, the last word dragging with a bite.
Gordain stared at him, a horrible thought coming to him at the vaguely threatening tone he could hear in his cousin’s words.
“Diana is a strong lass,” he said. “She will be back on her feet in nay time and then we will be wed.”
Jaimie shrugged, even as a sneering look of disdain covered his face.
“It isnae right, Gordain. Ye shouldnae be wed to a Sassenach. There are many lasses in our clan and in others that would be happy to marry ye. Why would ye bring in someone who kens nothing of our traditions?”
“She is me choice,a co-ogha,” Gordain reminded him. “She and I will be wed in a few weeks and I willnae hear anything against her.”
Jaimie turned on his heel at Gordain’s words and walked away, agitation in his every step.
Gordain rubbed his temple, where he could feel a throbbing headache forming. Jaimie had never hidden his dislike for the English, but Gordain had never expected him to voice such thoughts about his betrothed in his presence.
His mind kept circling back to the letter. Could Jaimie be the one who sent it? It did not look like his handwriting, but it would not have been too hard to disguise it or get someone else to write the note.
But why? Just so Gordain wouldn’t marry an Englishwoman? He could not believe that his cousin would stoop so low.
He would have to speak with Bhaltair as soon as possible, he decided. Maybe he would have more insight into his brother’s thoughts about the matter to help him understand.
In the meantime, he would speak with Tamas and have him send someone to watch Jaimie. If his cousin was the one after Diana, he would not leave him any chance to go after her.
20
The knock came at her door barely after the sun had risen. She pulled back the curtains on her four-poster bed, not sure if she had heard correctly. When she heard it again she hurried out of bed to open it, her bare feet on the cold stone making her shiver.
It was Gordain holding a small basket.
“We should leave soon,” he said.
She looked outside her window and then back at him with a raised eyebrow.
“It still dark outside,” she said.
“Please?” he pleaded, giving her such a boyishly charming look that she melted.
“Very well. Give me a few minutes.”
