Page 41 of Unforgotten
But he’d given his word he’d take part in tomorrow’s meeting, and the problems facing their isle needed to be sorted.
Even so, the thought of dealing with MacKinnon the following day, of listening to his demands, made Gavin grind his teeth. Right now, the only thing he wanted to do was smash his fist into the clan-chief’s mouth.
The clatter of hooves below drew Gavin’s gaze then from the mist-wreathed valley, to the bailey below. A party had arrived, and judging from the booming male voice that echoed against the surrounding stone, it was Malcolm MacLeod.
Gavin relaxed his jaw a little. MacLeod could be bullish, but beneath all his swagger and bluster, the man had a heart. Gavin wasn’t sure Duncan MacKinnon did.
He had spoken briefly to Alasdair MacDonald of Duntulm and his wife, Caitrin, after supper. It had been a year since he’d seen them both—but much had changed in their lives since their last meeting.
Caitrin MacDonald.
Despite his bleak mood, Gavin’s mouth curved. Just over a year ago now, he’d been one of three suitors all vying for her hand. Ross Campbell, captain of Duntulm Guard, had also been one of them.
Blonde, proud, and recently widowed, Caitrin had been sought after. After losing Innis, Gavin had told himself that it was time to leave the past behind, time to make a fresh start. But when he and the other suitors met with Caitrin at Dunvegan, it had become quickly apparent that the woman’s affections lay elsewhere.
She was in love with her dead husband’s brother, Alasdair.
They’d both been determined to deny their feelings for each other, but Gavin liked to think he’d played a small role in bringing them together. Once he’d realized that he’d never win Caitrin’s heart, he met with Alasdair and forced him to face the truth. The man was deeply in love with Caitrin; Gavin knew the signs and also had to face a few truths himself.
For as lovely as Caitrin was, there was only one woman for him.
Reaching up, Gavin scrubbed his face with the palm of his hand. The Devil take him, he’d miscalculated when he’d thought that seeing Ella again, apologizing to her, would help him move on with his life.
In truth, the opposite had happened.
A soft knock at the door intruded upon his thoughts.
Stiffening, Gavin turned toward it. The hour was late—too much so for visitors.
“Who is it?” he called out.
With a click, the door opened inward, and a slender figure encased in pine-green stepped inside.
Gavin stiffened. “Lady MacKinnon,” he addressed her formally, no warmth in his voice. “To what do I owe this visit?”
“With all of today’s excitement, we didn’t manage to get reacquainted, Gavin.” She smiled and shut the door behind her, leaning up against it. “I thought I would rectify that.”
Gavin raised an eyebrow. He’d forgotten how bold Drew MacKinnon could be. Of course, she’d been newly wedded the last time they’d seen each other. However, that hadn’t stopped her from flirting shamelessly with him—right under her husband’s nose.
“This meeting could have waited till tomorrow,” Gavin replied, folding his arms across his chest.
Drew’s smile became coy. She was comely; Gavin had noticed that years ago. She shared her brother’s coloring: pale skin, storm-grey eyes, and peat-brown hair that she had braided and coiled around the crown of her head, revealing a long, slender neck.
However, just like years earlier, her beauty left him cold.
He’d never liked the shrewdness in Drew MacKinnon’s eyes, the cunning edge to her smile. She thought she was cleverer than him—than most men—and she could barely conceal her arrogance.
“I know it’s late, Gavin,” she said, a sultry edge to her voice, “but ye have time to share a cup of wine with me, do ye not?”
Gavin held Drew’s gaze, resisting the urge to show her the door. Drew knew he had manners and wouldn’t cast her out. At the same time, she was playing a dangerous game. It was not seemly for a widow to be entering a guest’s bed-chamber, at any hour.
Silently, Gavin moved to the sideboard, where a jug of bramble wine and a stack of clay cups sat. He then poured some wine and handed Drew a cup, noting that she deliberately brushed her fingers against his as he did so.
Gazing up at his face, Drew took a sip of wine. “Ye grow more handsome with the years, Gavin … age suits ye.”
“Ye look well too,” Gavin replied, his tone still cool. Compliments were expected, so he would give them. It was true though; the past decade since he’d seen Drew hadn’t aged her at all.
Drew’s smile widened, although her gaze remained sharp.
