Page 69 of Claimed By a Savage Scot
The people I love most in the world are at risk because of me, she thought, the familiar guilt biting at her.
“Aye, we have five years tae catch up on,” she said shakily, taking out her hanky and dabbing at her wet eyes even as she smiled.
Duncan smiled back at her, the first genuine smile of his she had seen in years. For an instant, he was the younger, more carefree brother of old. Warmth exploded in her chest, and more tears slid from her eyes.
“Och, Duncan, I’m so happy tae see ye,” she murmured, impulsively hugging him again.
“I’ve missed ye too, wee sister, and so has Elaina,” he told her in soothing tones before detaching her and holding her away from him gently by the arms. His eyes danced as he gazed into hers and added, “But we’re taegether again, and that means naymore tears, eh? Now, give me half an hour tae wash the road off me, and then ye and I are goin’ tae take breakfast taegether. I’m starvin’.”
Delighted, she laughed softly and snuffled into her hanky. “Aye, agreed.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“When she heard Sinclair had tracked ye down tae the priory and was on his way there, Elaina threatened tae ride there hersel’ tae fetch ye,” Duncan told Catriona, between bites of bread thickly smeared with butter.
Catriona smiled fondly as she spread honey on some oatcakes. “That sounds just like the Elaina I remember. Och, I’ve missed her so much.”
Duncan continued with a comical mixture of plaintiveness and pride. “She’s still just as headstrong. Ach, when I left tae come here, it took every argument I could think of tae convince her tae stay behind.” He glanced at the great doors of the hall and added, “Even now, I’m half expectin’ those doors tae fly open and her tae come stridin’ in.”
Catriona snorted at the picture he painted. “Aye, I can easily believe her quite capable of it.”
Her laughter drew a look from Malcolm, seated across from her, and they exchanged a quick glance before looking away.
Few minutes later, Kenneth and Sorcha came to join them. Malcolm stood up and introduced Kenneth to Duncan.
“Laird Grant,” Kenneth greeted Duncan warmly. “It is nice tae meet again.”
Duncan rose courteously to clasp forearms with him. “Laird Forbes. A pleasure tae see ye too,” he said, then greeted Sorcha with a gallant bow.
“’Tis a shame Sorcha and I are plannin’ tae leave on the morrow,” Kenneth said. “I’d like the chance tae have a good talk with ye sometime.”
“Likewise, man. Let’s arrange it before ye leave here,” Duncan replied, looking genuinely pleased. Catriona guessed both men were thinking of the benefits of a future alliance between Grant and Forbes.
Kenneth pulled out Sorcha’s chair so she could sit down while he and Duncan continued talking. She greeted her new friend gladly, but she could not help noticing how still Malcolm had become whilst listening to the men talk, as though he were watching or waiting for something. The tension in his posture was unmistakable, and she guess the reason for it.
Her big, brave, battle-hardened warrior was afraid, and her heart ached suddenly with tenderness for him. She desperately wanted to lean across the table and press his hand and kiss him and tell him everything would be all right, that Duncan would bless the marriage gladly.
She was certain of it.
But she knew Malcolm too well now. Until he heard the blessing from Duncan himself, he would continue carrying the burden of self-imposed guilt alone.
So, when his gaze lifted toward hers once more across the table, when she thought no one was looking, she sent him a reassuring look. And though his expression barely shifted at all, she saw the answering warmth in his eyes.
Later that morning, Malcolm stood at the head of the long oak table in the council chamber, one hand braced against the carved wood as he looked down at the two large parchments spread upon the surface.
Weeks of careful negotiation covered those pages. The articles thrashed out between him and Kenneth concerned lucrative trade agreements as well as the military and naval obligations owed to an ally in need. Written in John Morrow’s careful hand, the treaty was the most ambitious alliance Clan Gordon had secured in years.
And now, at long last, it awaited only signatures.
Kenneth Forbes stood opposite Malcolm, dressed for travel, for he and his sister were due to leave that afternoon. Ewan lounged nearby beside Rory, while Quentin and the remaining councilmen gathered around the table observing the proceedings with grave interest.
John dipped his quill into ink. “If ye’re both satisfied with the final terms, me lairds,” he said formally, “we may proceed.”
Malcolm exchanged a brief look with Kenneth.
“Aye,” Kenneth replied smoothly. “Clan Forbes is satisfied.”
“As is Clan Gordon,” Malcolm answered.
