To Dream of a Highlander(27)

Ach, his voice cracked. His sister had needed him and he’d been too blind to see it. Or too stubborn. His reluctance to get close to a woman—even his own kin—had cost Lorna dearly. He would not allow that to happen again.

“Do not think on it anymore.”

“If ye had told me…”

“Ye would have what? Killed him.”

“Aye,” he replied through gritted teeth. “Gladly.”

“And ye would have been hanged for yer troubles. I willnae tell ye again, brother. Dinnae think on it. The past is the past.”

He eyed his sister and her resolute expression. Fire still kindled under his skin, merging with that sense of powerlessness. The same as when Alice had died. When birthing their babe took her from him, he’d thrown himself into a drunken stupor. Had the child survived, mayhap he would have behaved differently. As it was, he was ashamed of the way he had dealt with his grief. No doubt, Lorna knew well of it, even if they saw little of each other at the time. But his stubborn sister would not have wished to burden him.

Finn sucked in a long breath and affected a calm expression—even managing to smile. All who knew him recognised his ready smile. None understood the turmoil that lay underneath. Apart from, perhaps, his sister.

“As ye bid, little sister.”

She arched a knowing brow but did not comment on his patronising tone. Rarely did she not rise to his challenges. Even in their childhood she had been determined to prove herself stronger, faster, and cleverer than he and their cousins. Some days he suspected she was indeed the boldest warrior he knew.

Lorna broke the silence with a quick smile. “And so to Lady Katelyn.”

“Aye?”

“If ye are to stay, ye dinnae toy with her, Finn.”

Finn tried to look affronted but failed. His sister was far too canny. “I dinnae know what ye mean.”

“She needs time and comforting. But she doesnae need ye charming her into bed.”

“Come now, I am in no habit of seducing maidens—betrothed maidens at that.”

“That I know, but she is a bonny lass, and I am no fool.” Lorna propped her hands on her hips. “Ye may act the rogue but ye are honourable and can treat a lass well when ye are doing more than taking a tumble with her. Dinnae take a tumble with her, Finn, ye hear me. Be the gentleman I know ye can be.”

Ach, how he wished his sister would not speak of tumbling at the same time as speaking of Katelyn. It made his body ache with need. Creamy flesh, glinting emerald eyes, a gently curving smile as he laid his lips to her soft thighs….

“I willnae touch her,” he said more sharply than intended.

Lorna rolled her eyes. “See that ye do not.”

A retort sat on his tongue but he held it, his sister’s admission of Walter’s treatment of her fresh in his mind. He would do his best not to disappoint her.

“Make yer plans to stay known to Logan. He likes to know all that is going on in the keep.”

“Aye, now there’s a man who could do with being married off.” He laughed as his sister’s eyes narrowed. “Yer man, Logan, needs a woman. He doesnae know how to take pleasure in anything.”

“Whereas ye take too much,” Lorna shot back.

Finn chuckled again. Lorna had a weak spot when it came to Logan. But then Logan had been there when he had not. It appeared he likely owed that man a great debt too. He shook his head, spun away and strode out of the hall in search of Logan.

He caught sight of Katelyn at Logan’s side, hair streaming behind her as they strolled across the bailey. He paused and studied the blue skies and purple and orange hills. Inhaling the slightly smoky air, he knew he should not touch her again, for he would surely crumble and give into temptation. However he hoped she would at least visit his bed in his dreams again.

***

Warily, Catriona descended the steps into the Great Hall. The smell of baked bread and roasted meats clung to the air. In front of her, two large tables lined the hall and already the household had gathered for supper. The scrape of eating knives made her wince.

Her chest squeezed and her breaths grew rapid as she tried to block out the images that assailed her. She clenched her eyes shut and steadied herself against the wall. Catriona dragged her heavy lids open, sucked in a deep breath—willed the memories to fade. Descending the last few steps, she found herself confronted by a wide chest in a linen shirt and red plaid. She focused on that torso for a moment, taking in the lines of strength and the sinuous length of his arms. Gradually the world returned and the squashing sensation in her chest dissipated.

She dragged her gaze up, bracing herself for the soft understanding but there was none. His bold stare made her toes curl and her skin heat. She offered him a small smile in return, relieved not to have to suffer yet another look of sympathy. While the maids and Lorna had been kind in their care of her the past few days, the carefulness with which they treated her vexed. Here she was lying to them and they offered nothing but kindness. And the closed walls of the castle and the busy household seemed to compound the experiences of the previous sennight. It was as if the stone held in her fears until they surrounded and suffocated her. Catriona had tried her hardest to rest before supper but, alas, the sights and sounds of battle and death would not leave her.