Page 22 of The Rogue's Bride
He glanced up, smiling. “Is it so obvious?”
“Aye.”
He huffed a breath. “I once found it too small, too isolated … but after some time away I have a new appreciation of Duntulm.”
“I like the folk here,” Caitrin replied with a smile of her own. “They’ve been good to me.”
Alasdair met her eye. “I take it, my brother never took ye with him to speak to the cottars?”
Caitrin shook her head, her smile fading. “He sent Alban to do such tasks. I wasn’t consulted.” She was surprised by the bitter edge she heard in her own voice.
Alasdair raised an eyebrow. He’d noted it too. “Why does it matter that much to ye?”
Caitrin’s mouth compressed. “Ye wouldn’t understand.”
“Wouldn’t I?”
Caitrin shook her head, once again taken aback by her own vehemence. “I’m as clever as any man … yet because I’m a woman I’ve been patronized and dismissed all my life.” She couldn’t believe she was voicing such thoughts to Alasdair. But as the words poured out, relief settled over her. It felt good to be able to be honest with him. “I only ever once made a suggestion to Baltair about the running of the keep,” she said softly, “and he humiliated me in front of his men for it.”
Alasdair’s gaze clouded. “Like I did by the bridge.”
Caitrin looked away. “No … ye didn’t go as far as he did.”
Silence fell between them as they reached the bottom of the hill and took the muddy path through the fields toward the village. The way was narrow here, forcing them to walk in single file. Caitrin went ahead with Alasdair following a few paces behind. However, when they reached the hamlet, Alasdair increased his pace and fell into step beside her once more.
“Yearea clever woman, Caitrin,” he said, favoring her with a boyish smile that reminded her of the old Alasdair. “I can see why ye have been frustrated.”
“Aye … better that I was born dull-witted and content with my lot.”
He threw back his head and laughed. The sound, warm and rich, filtered through the wet air. “I’d almost forgotten how sharp ye are,” he said, grinning. “How I used to enjoy sparring with ye.”
Caitrin cast him a sidelong glance. “Ye liked it?”
His mouth lifted at the corners. “Aye … I still do.”
Chapter Ten
Deer Stalking
CAITRIN STEPPED OUT into the bailey and raised her face to the sky. The sun had finally appeared after days of grey. It barely warmed her skin but was a welcome sight all the same.
“It’s a fine morning to be alive, Lady Caitrin!”
Lowering her face, Caitrin spied Boyd MacDonald emerging from the stables, leading his horse.
“Aye, it is,” she replied with a smile. Her gaze drifting over to where Alasdair also appeared, leading his stallion. “Where are ye all off to?”
“To stalk some deer.” Boyd flashed her a grin.
Alasdair approached her. Dressed in hunting leathers and a dark-green woolen cloak, he was an attractive, distracting sight. “I remember MacLeod used to take ye and yer sisters deer stalking,” he greeted her. “Do ye still hunt?”
Caitrin’s mouth curved at the unexpected question. “I haven’t been since I wed. Baltair wouldn’t let me ride out with him … said a stag hunt was no place for a woman.”
Alasdair held her gaze, a smile spreading across his face. The expression made Caitrin’s breathing catch.
She shoved the sensation aside. Attraction had no place between a chieftain and his chatelaine. She needed to watch herself around him.
“We’re leaving shortly,” he said. “Will ye join us?”
