Page 55 of Kilty as Sin
Barclay had slipped away with his new wife not long after, and Payton wondered if he was the only one to see them go.
His lips curled, knowing what his partner was up to even now.
Things would be different, with Barclay retiring.
He sighed and lifted his mug again as Craig slid onto the bench beside him. “Things will be different now, aye?” he rumbled.
Payton blinked into his mug, wondering if there was an echo, or if the ale had affected him worse than normal.
“Barclay should’ve listened to Drum,” Craig said mournfully, pulling the mug from Payton’s hand and gulping the contents. “I might be the baby Hunter on the team, but at least I can see how much trouble women cause.”
Deciding he’d had enough ale, Payton rested his elbows on the table. “Aye, Baby, ye’re right. Ladies in particular.”
“Ye think so?” The giant used the mug to gesture at the revelers around them. “Some of these ladies arenae so bad.”
‘Twas easy to imagine a few of the more comely ladies sending admiring glances—and mayhap even invitations—to Craig when their courtier husbands were away. The man towered over all of them, with shoulders wide enough to pull an ox from a bog.
He looked like a blacksmith, moved like a Hunter, and flirted like brick.
Och, well, mayhap ladies like a handsome idiot now and then.
Payton shook his head ruefully. “I suspect there’s a large difference in the ladies ye’ve made acquaintances of, Craig, and a lady like Barclay’s Grace. She was interested in love and marriage, after all.”
“And these ladies just want a fun time,” the large man agreed, sounding almost knowledgeable. “And I’m happy to oblige. I’ve had my eye on that pretty redhead across the way.”
Payton didn’t need her pointed out; sheknewshe was lovely and moved through the crowds like the Queen; but whereas the crowds moved out of the way of Her Majesty because of her position, ‘twas the lady’s beauty which garneredherattention.
Scowling, Payton looked away.
And had his breath driven from him when Craig jammed an elbow into his side. “Which one are ye admiring, Pay? I ken ye prefer ‘em quiet—how about the pretty brunette in blue over there?”
Payton didn’t bother following his friend’s pointing finger. “Nay.” He pretended interest in the King’s conversation with the advisor beside him.
“How about the blonde lady with the huge tits? I think she’s married to—”
“Nay.” Scowling, Payton lifted a hand, calling one of the pages over with another mug of ale. “I dinnae lust after any of these ladies—anylady.”
As he thanked the page with a quick nod, Craig hummed. “I dinnae ken…I’ve had my share of crofter lassesandladies. They’re much the same once yer head’s under their skirts, if ye ken what I’m saying.”
If Craig was known for putting his head beneath their skirts, no wonder he was so popular with the ladies. Payton, however…
“Ladies are used to a certain level of finery, aye?” He growled. “I’m no’.”
His friend snorted. “Ye’re sitting at the King’s table—aright, aye, no’ hisactualtable. But ye’re dining with—well, nearby him. Ye’re at court.Yewere the one to teach me the manners I needed when I arrived here. Ye cannae claim ye’re no’ sophisticated and refined.”
“I didnae say that.” This conversation was getting too personal. Payton’s only hope was that they’d both be too hungover in the morning to remember it. “I’m saying…courtly ladies are used to beauty.”
He hurried to take a big gulp of the ale, hoping the conversation would be interrupted. Failing that, he hoped to get completely, totally drunk.
He washappyfor Barclay, of course he was.
But love? Marriage?
Nay, those weren’t for Payton McIntyre.
“This is about the scar, is it no’?” rumbled Craig quietly from beside him.
With a sigh, Payton slammed the mug down on the table. “Of course, ‘tis about the bloody scar!”
