Chapter Twenty-seven

 

 

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Surprised to have Grant call him aside immediately after arriving with Tory, Duncan glared. “What news?”

“Tis not good, Duncan. I wish our visit could be on better terms. I fear Robert is ready to make his bid as king.”

Robert the Bruce possibly Scotland’s king. Was the country ready for the upheaval that might cause?

When the evening’s entertainment began, tables were dismantled or moved aside so everyone could join in the festivities. Some couples began an eightsome reel, and soon everyone joined them. Looking around the Hall as he twirled Catherine around the floor, Duncan saw Trevor dancing with Tamara.

They looked far too comfortable with each other.

Contrary to Duncan’s earlier fears, they had a lovely evening. Occasionally he could tell Cat’s leg bothered her, but she refused to discuss it except to say, “There are not many occasions when I get to dance with you, my lord husband, and I shall let nothing cut short this evening.”

With the ground soaked from sudden torrential rains, guests spent the night encamped in every available chamber. Catherine and Duncan retired to their appointed room. He turned and watched her as she removed pearls from her hair. Duncan having already helped her out of her côtehardie, she sat clad only in her chemise.

When she raised her hand to brush the curls from her hair, he strode to her side and took the brush from her hand. He started to brush it and she smiled up at him.

“You are mine, Cat,” Duncan said with a feral growl. “Never forget that.”

Catherine turned on the small seat to look up at him. Her eyes still sparkled with happiness, but she stayed his hand with hers. “Duncan, what bothers you? You have been upset ever since Lord Dinraven asked me to dance earlier this eve. Did he say ought to upset you?”

“He said naught of import,” Duncan interrupted, carefully avoiding her eyes.

“Then what has you troubled? Do not tell me you are not upset.”

Duncan inhaled and exhaled deeply. He didn’t like having such possessive feelings, didn’t want to care. He glared at Catherine. “He wants you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Dinraven wishes to take you away from me,” Duncan clarified. His eyes turned dark. He reached down and pulled Catherine to her feet. “I’ll not have it, Cat. I will not be made a cuckold again.”

Catherine gasped. “He said that? He told you—”

“Of course not,” he shot back. “He did not have to. I saw the way he looked at you.”

“Duncan, I would never—”

“Would you not?” Duncan growled. “If a handsome, wealthy man such as Dinraven asked you to leave with him, you tell me you would not willingly agree?”

Catherine’s eyes held a disturbing combination of anger and hurt. “That is exactly what I am telling you, Duncan MacThomas. I would never dishonor my vows—and that you have such low regard for me is intolerable.”

Her face set, she grabbed a robe and started for the door. “I knew you did not want me, but I thought you respected me. I thought...”

She got to the door and started to open it when Duncan reached her and slammed it shut. He grabbed her arms and swung her around.

Catherine opened her mouth to rail at him at the very moment he pinned her between his hard body and the heavy wooden door.

A strangled cry of rage threatened to erupt from her throat. It faded at the feral look in his eyes.

Scant heartbeats passed before he crushed her mouth with his own.

Catherine placed her hands flat against his chest and pushed.

He didn’t budge, but pressed her harder again the door.

Keeping her pinned to the wall, he released her mouth, moved his head back and looked deeply into her eyes.

“Cat?”

Catherine saw the pain in his eyes. She raised a finger to his lips to silence him. “I shall never leave with another, Duncan. I believe you already know that about me. It matters not who he is—a great Chieftain like Dinraven or even the king of Scotland when we have one. I made my vows before God the day we wed, and it goes against the tenants of my faith to dishonor them.” She rubbed the backs of her fingers against his cheek. “I heard what your first wife did, but I am not Helen.”

Duncan lowered his mouth to hers, breathing easier. The kiss didn’t have the urgency it had only moments before.