“Oh, aye, a rider just arrived. From Laird Gillean. He has been sent ahead of his master who is about two days’ ride away. He craves a word with ye.”
Catriona squeezed her fingers until her nails dug into the backs of her hands. Two days? And no word from her father yet. The journey from Bute was a sennight at least. She only hoped he had already left and had just had little chance to send a message.
“I see.” Lorna smiled quickly, barely disguising the apprehension in her expression. “Well, I shall see ye at supper, Katelyn.”
“Aye, good day to ye, Lorna.” Catriona fought the need to rub her chest. Why did Lorna appear so apprehensive? Did she know something Catriona did not?
Lorna brushed past Finn, leaving him standing in the doorway. The tightness in her chest increased, but no longer from fear.
“So… this is yer wedding gown?”
“Oh.” She brushed her hands over the bodice and glanced at the gown. “Aye… aye it is.”
“Ye look very fine in it, Katie.”
“Thank ye,” she murmured.
Sweet Mary, had the room grown hot? Her bodice was too tight. Her nipples jabbed against the hard fabric as his gaze roved over her. Tingling lips reminded her of his kiss, his heated tongue, his stubble grazing her. The idea that mayhap he thought little of their kiss seemed foolish now he looked at her so intently. He considered her lips, indicating he too was recalling their embrace. But was his attraction to her driven by anything more than a man’s need for a woman?
And why did she care?
Nothing could come of this, she reminded herself yet again. Hopefully she’d be gone soon enough. If her father ever came for her.
Finn took a sudden step forward and she released a startled sound, retreating so the back of her legs hit the bed. He didn’t frighten her—not like the Viking had—but a well of need and frustration in her stomach bubbled up and threatened any remaining composure.
He towered over her, allowing her to study him closely. The tiny scar on his lip taunted her, begged her to dash her tongue over it. Extra golden stubble graced his jaw and she had to clamp her hand to her side to prevent herself from grazing her nails across it. His brows nearly knitted and it occurred to her how odd it was not to see him smile. Even in the most serious of moments, Finn could be counted on to break into a grin. She tried to swallow but her arid throat refused to cooperate.
Dazzling blue eyes bore into her. The back of his hand skimming her cheek startled her and she flinched. He dropped the hand but remained close. The warmth emanating from him sucked the air from the room until she feared she might swoon.
“Did ye rest well?” he finally asked, after an eternity of silence and staring.
“Aye, very well,” she rasped. “Thank ye.”
“Good.” Finn considered her gown and took an abrupt step back. “Good. Ye’ll… ye’ll need to be well rested for yer wedding.”
The sudden distance and coldness to his tone disconcerted her. Had she been wrong? Had he only been comforting her and now feared she had the wrong idea? “I… I suppose so….”
“Well.” He rocked back on his heels and she watched his chest heave as he drew in a breath. “Well, I shall bid ye good day.” He spun on one heel and paused, speaking to her over his shoulder. “Ye really do look very fine.”
Catriona nodded numbly as he dipped his head and left, drawing the door shut slowly. She sank onto the bed and rubbed her chest. What had that been about? Where had her cheerful, confident Finn gone? The one who offered her such words of solace last night? He had been so uneasy. A sudden shard of doubt struck her heart and she rubbed harder at the aching spot. Had he discovered her?
***
Finn stared at the door for a moment. The sound of creaking ropes told him she’d slumped onto the bed. What a fool he must have seemed. Yet, surely she felt the same. The desire shimmering in her gaze practically begged him to throw her on the bed and plunge into her. It had taken all his willpower not to behave a barbarian and take her then and there.
But the gentleman buried deep down saw her confusion and fear. She’d been scared of him. Or mayhap of her need? He couldn’t be sure but he never wished to frighten her with his hunger. He spun away and leaned on the cold wall. Slamming a palm against the stone, he lifted his gaze to the wooden rafters and sighed. He needed an ale. That empty ache in his throat had to be quenched by something for it could not be satisfied by Katelyn—a frightened, unsure maiden with a wedding only days away.
He put a hand over his face and shook his head. Why did he forget that whenever he was in her company? The last thing she needed was a broken man who could offer her nothing more than a few hours pleasure. He would be very bad for Katelyn indeed. Likely Laird Gillean would break off the contract should he discover her innocence had been taken.