Page 16 of The Rogue's Bride
Alasdair glanced the chatelaine’s way once more. At least she wasn’t smirking over being proved right. He remembered that Caitrin had never been that kind of lass. Years earlier, when they’d been friends, she’d beaten him once or twice at the board game ‘Ard-ri’. His young ego had taken a battering, but she’d been a graceful victor. It was after one such game that he’d realized he was in love with her. It had been a rainy spring afternoon, and they’d been seated near the hearth in her father’s Great Hall. He’d visited Dunvegan with his father. Caitrin had taken his king before glancing up at him, a smile of disbelief stretching her face.
The impact of that moment had been like a punch to the guts. Alasdair had been unable to breathe. She’d won more than just a game of Ard-ri that day—she’d won his heart.
Alasdair tore his gaze from Caitrin and took a bite of bread and cheese. What a gullible idiot he’d been.
A short while later the noon meal ended. Men and women rose to their feet and began filing from the hall, returning to their chores.
“Back to the bridge, milord?” Darron MacNichol asked, getting up.
“Aye,” Alasdair replied. “I want to make sure the pillars are shored up by nightfall.”
Boyd pulled a face, but Darron slapped him heartily on the back. “Come on, MacDonald. Not afraid of hard graft, are ye?”
Muttering under his breath, Boyd cast Darron a jaundiced look. The men moved off, and Caitrin rose to her feet. She was about to turn from the table when Alasdair spoke.
“Lady Caitrin … wait a moment.”
She paused, although her body had gone rigid. He watched a nerve feather in her cheek; she was uncomfortable in his presence.
“Join me for supper in my solar this eve,” he murmured. “I think it’s time we spoke privately.”
Caitrin’s gaze flicked up, her sea-blue eyes alarmed. Her throat bobbed. “My lord,” she began, her voice low and hesitant. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
A lazy smile stretched Alasdair’s mouth. “On the contrary, it is,” he replied. “If ye are to stay on as chatelaine at Duntulm, ye and I must talk.”
Their gazes fused for a long moment, and then, reluctantly, she nodded.
Caitrin stopped before the door to the chieftain’s solar and drew in a sharp breath. She’d been dreading this meeting all afternoon. Unable to concentrate on her chores, she’d been unusually snappish with the servants. Even Eoghan’s company hadn’t relaxed her.
She wished there could be some way to avoid this supper. But there wasn’t.
Alasdair MacDonald had been insistent.
Releasing the breath she was holding, Caitrin raised her clenched fist and knocked.
“Enter.” Alasdair’s voice greeted her.
Tensing her jaw, Caitrin pushed open the door and stepped inside the solar.
Alasdair stood before the fire warming his back. “Good evening, Lady Caitrin,” he greeted her with a smile. “Shut the door … ye are letting a draft in.”
Caitrin did as bid, pulling the door closed behind her.
They were now completely alone—for the first time since his arrival at Duntulm.
For the first time since he proposed to her on that balmy summer’s day.
Caitrin clenched her jaw. She didn’t want to be in this man’s presence. Ever since he’d gotten back, he’d taken pains to torment her. He might be smiling at her now, but she didn’t trust him. She’d seen the glint in his eyes as he’d humiliated her earlier that day.
And she wasn’t about to forgive him for it.
“Don’t look so worried, Caitrin,” Alasdair said, raising an eyebrow. “I’d just like a word.” He motioned to the huge oaken table that dominated the center of the solar, where two places had been set. “Take a seat. The servants will bring the food up shortly.”
Caitrin turned, moving woodenly to the table. The sight of it reminded her of how unpleasant he’d been when they’d gone over the accounts together. She wasn’t about to forgive him for that either.
Anger coiled within her, overcoming her nervousness. It occurred to her then that she wasn’t afraid of Alasdair, not like she had been of Baltair. The few times she’d stood up for herself with her husband, he’d been brutal with her. She’d never have spoken to him like she had to Alasdair today.
But she wasn’t going to apologize for it.
