To Dream of a Highlander(43)

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Gillean arrived in a fanfare of horses, banners and too much fuss in Finn’s opinion. He folded his arms, widened his stance and drew in a breath through his nostrils as the laird discarded his mantle and dipped to kiss Lorna’s hand. Lorna smiled but Finn saw tension in her posture while she greeted him at the large oak doors.

The man breezed in—as if he owned the place. Which, of course, he did. Finn mentally kicked himself and forced his glower to relax. Stood in front of the top table, he had a good view of everything. Including Katelyn’s discomfiture as Lorna introduced her and Gillean’s gaze roamed over Katelyn, no doubt weighing her up and finding her more than satisfactory.

Finn couldn’t hear what either of them said but he knew well what Gillean would be thinking. He’d be congratulating himself on winning such a prize. In a deep purple gown that reminded him of heather after rainfall, her skin glowed and her hair shone. She’d clearly taken extra effort to dress for the laird and that made Finn grind his teeth until his jaw hurt.

When Gillean took Katelyn’s hand and dropped a lingering kiss to it, Finn had to lean against one of the candle mounts and grip it. The iron dug into his palm but at least he wasn’t ploughing his fist into the smug laird’s face.

Gillean finally turned his attention away from Katelyn and offered Finn a smile. An understanding ran between them, one that acknowledged Gillean had won, even though Gillean had no way of knowing how he felt about Katelyn.

How did he feel about Katelyn?

Ach, he was imagining things. He wasn’t in competition with Gillean.

“Finn, how goes it?” Gillean strode over and dropped his head briefly.

“Well enough,” he replied tightly. He had not seen Gillean for many years. Gillean had been old enough when his brother had married Lorna but his hair was now completely white and deep lines framed his grey eyes. A thick white beard barely concealed his smirk.

“Lorna tells me I have ye to thank for rescuing Lady Katelyn.” He glanced over at her and motioned for her to come to him. With slow movements, she came to his side and slipped her hand into his offered one.

Finn released the iron mount and flexed his fist at his side. Katelyn refused to look at him. Her gaze remained cast down, studying the reed-strewn floorboards with great interest.

“If ye had sent more men, I wouldnae have had to.”

Gillean’s eyes narrowed marginally before he let out a laugh. “Alas, when I travel I have a need for many men. I doubt anyone would attack ye, Finn. Not when there would be little benefit in it for them.”

Finn bit back a growl and Katelyn snapped her head up, swinging her wide gaze between them. Swallowing his resentment, Finn gave him a mocking bow. “I am but yer servant, my laird, and I cannae object to aiding a beloved sister. Should she have been without any more men, I would have feared for her safety, and of course the safety of yer castle. I fear ye have too many enemies, Gillean, to leave it unmanned so,” Finn said pointedly.

“Ha, none would be foolish enough to attack my property.” He squeezed Katelyn’s hand. “Finn here would have ye believe ye would be in great danger as my wife, but let me assure ye, my lady, ye will come to no harm by my side. I am greatly feared across the Highlands.

“Aye, that I know,” she said quietly, but Finn heard the bitterness in her tone and scowled.

“None would go against me,” Gillean continued, ignoring or mayhap not even hearing Katelyn’s soft statement.

Lorna approached, a warning look in her eyes. “Ye must be worn from yer journey, will ye no’ take some refreshments, Gillean?” She motioned to the laid table behind her.

“Aye, thank ye, sister. It has been a long few sennights, but I believe I have made some fine business arrangements.”

Finn barely smothered a snort. Business deals? If the man counted threats as arrangements, mayhap. He was willing to bet Gillean had never made an honourable deal in his life.

The laird turned to Katelyn. “Will ye do me the honour of allowing me to serve ye, my lady.”

“Of course, my laird.”

“Pray, call me Gillean. I would not have one of those marriages where we stand upon ceremony.”

“Gillean then.”

The laird’s name coming from her lips sent bile into Finn’s throat. Disgusted, he snatched a cup and a jug of ale. “If ye’ll excuse me, I must see to something.”

Gillean did not even acknowledge Finn’s words, his attention consumed by Katelyn as he saw her to her seat and placed himself next to her. Finn could well understand his enchantment. Finn had suffered the same ever since he first met her, but did he have to look at her with such obvious lust?