“Father,” Colin responded, thoroughly enjoying this, “the night is still young!”
Celia's composure was now almost completely shattered. The apple has clearly not fallen too far from the tree in this family, she thought. And Edmund had thought she'd be safe here. Even he was enjoying this embarrassment.
“Well, Lady Caithness, if you haven't been talking about anything interesting, then I assume my son has been boring you with talk of the changes he is making in the village.”
Celia was delighted at the change in topic, even if she hadn't the slightest idea what Lord Hugh was talking about.
“No, m'lord. Lord Colin hasn't had a chance to tell me about your village.”
“I'll put you to sleep over it at dinner,” Colin interjected, smiling.
“I'm not so easily put to sleep, sir,” Celia snapped, immediately sorry she'd said that, as she looked at Colin's one raised eyebrow.
“I’ve been known to rise to the occasion before, Lady Caithness,” Colin replied, holding in his laughter. The other men were chuckling, less successful in their restraint.
“Now that I think of it, sleeping might be a preferable position than the one I've gotten myself into here.” Celia glowered at the tall half circle of men before her.
“I'm an open-minded host,” Lord Hugh said with comic gravity, “but I will not have you two sleeping together on my dinner table.”
Celia couldn't believe her ears. These men were too much.
Colin stood watching Lord Hugh lead her to dinner. As his father placed her in a seat between them, Colin thought that he might actually enjoy Lady Caithness's visit at Kildalton. Never in his many travels to Europe's great courts had he been so charmed as he'd been already this evening. Lady Caithness seemed so natural, so impulsive, so different from other court ladies he'd known.
Even though the gadabout Lady Caithness was far from what he wanted in a wife, this woman was definitely attractive and witty enough for a short term relationship. In fact, he might even look forward to being her spring fancy. Aye, just a short-term thing, he thought to himself. Short term.
Celia was really going to enjoy this short visit at Kildalton Castle.
The moon was just rising over the water outside her window, and the soft rays illuminated Celia's room with a shade of blue. Celia sat snugly in her great bed, her knees hugged to her chest, listening to the sounds of the sea. Occasionally, as she sat dreamily recalling the events of the evening, muffled sounds of the after-dinner revelry would reach her ears.
A Weavers' Guild had come into the castle to perform a play for Lord Hugh's household and his guests—some religious play in keeping with the season. Celia had wanted to stay, but she couldn't trust herself in that room any longer.
Dinner had been wonderful. Colin's attentions to her even better.
He had been a true courtier, anticipating her needs, serving her at table, keeping up a witty conversation that often seemed to have double meanings. He was definitely flirting with her, and Celia had enjoyed every minute of it. To her own dismay, she had even found herself returning it at times.
Something was very different here at Kildalton Castle. If some man had spoken to her at the queen's table the way Colin had at dinner, Celia was sure she would have dumped a goblet of ale on him and left the room. She'd always been very sensitive about the way men treated her in public. But she felt different about this situation, somehow.
It had been more than just flirting. Colin's attentions to her had awakened feelings that she'd never known even existed. For the first time in her life, she felt herself desired as a woman, a complete woman.
Celia had even enjoyed watching Colin's humorous act of possessiveness. She smiled, thinking of how Alec Macpherson and Lord Hugh had tried to get into their conversation.
Lord Hugh had been seated in his customary chair, the only one in the hall. She and Alec had been seated on the benches on either side of him, and Colin had sat down beside her.
Celia had been polite, speaking with Lord Hugh and Alec when the conversation warranted it. But at one point Colin stood up and asked if they could exchange places for a moment while he spoke with his father. She did not hesitate to comply, believing the seriousness of his tone.
Celia had been shocked when, after she had moved, Colin sat down in her place and turned his huge back to his father and Alec, effectively shutting them out of any contact with her for the remainder of the meal. Her last view of them was Lord Hugh's astonished face disappearing behind Colin's shoulder.
But there had been serious talk as well, talk that had interested Celia.
When Colin had spoken of the village and his dreams of modernization, he had spoken to her as a real person, and she had glimpsed another side of him that Celia hadn't anticipated. And he'd seemed surprised by the questions she'd asked and the genuine interest that she'd shown.
Celia had traveled all over Europe with her father and even gone to the Far East as a child. She'd seen a world that was rapidly changing, and those changes fascinated her.
There were many facets of this man's personality, and so far Celia liked every one of them.
In fact, there was enchantment in some of their moments together.
She half closed her eyes, thinking of the moment when she'd held her goblet up to be filled. Colin had taken the pitcher himself and placed his huge hand over hers as he'd filled the cup. Celia shivered as she recalled the heat that had coursed through her body at that moment. It might have been her imagination, but she had felt his fingers caress the back of her hand.
Perhaps she had imagined the lingering touch of a knee, the caress of an elbow, but each time it occurred, Celia's breathing had shortened and her pulse quickened.
But it didn't matter if it was her imagination or not. Sitting alone in her dark, empty bed, Celia listened for the sounds of the hall and was very aware now of the chill in her room. She was opening doors that she was not ready to step through. That's why she had to excuse herself. That's why she had to return to her room.
That's why she had to get away from Colin Campbell.
Chapter 6
We've spent two days around this old farmhouse, and Danvers has nearly filled the huge pit that we dug in the field. The troops are now making excursions into the countryside, and the people they lead back are dragged into the farmhouse and tortured. The word is that he is asking them all the same question. It's a woman. A lady we are searching for.
And then we throw dirt on what's left of their bodies.
Sweat glistened on Colin's bare skin as the first rays of the sun came over the castle's outer curtain wall.
Again and again he hammered the straw-covered post with the great two-handed Highland sword. Spinning and slashing, backing and charging, parrying and thrusting, the warrior pushed his fatiguing body through the painful training that made him so fearsome an opponent. His muscular frame ran with sweat until he completed a regimen that would kill an ordinary man. In fact, it had. Many.
Only two of his ten handpicked fighters remained outside in the training area, inspecting the new German swords that had just been received from France. The other eight, among them Runt's older brother, Emmet, had been exhausted by the fierce workout their master had put them through. But they were now en route to the castle's great kitchen to harass the cooks for their breakfasts. Each would now spend a greater part of the day training his own troops, and with similar intensity. This discipline made the Campbell fighters the most feared and respected of all Highland soldiers.
Alec appeared, yawning and stretching in the brisk morning air. Eyeing his friend as Colin picked up the towel that lay near a neat line of weapons, the Macpherson heir sauntered to the arms and picked out a short, vicious-looking sword that had two shorter, parallel blades commencing at the hilt.
“Were you making all that racket out here for the past quarter hour or so?” Alec asked nonchalantly.
“Quarter hour!” Colin exploded. “Try two, you lazy, shiftless, poor excuse for a fighter.”
“Two hours!” Alec continued with mock surprise. “Imagine that! Then I guess this is...”
Dropping the sword at Colin's feet as he spoke the last words, Alec leapt onto his friend's back as Colin reached down for the weapon. The two giants rolled away in dust, with Alec gripping the slightly larger Colin around the chest, pinning the massive arms to his sides.
As they rolled, Colin was able to get to one knee, and with a mighty heave of his muscular arms broke Alec's viselike grip, reached over his shoulder, and threw his friend into the dust in front of him.
Before Alec could even react, Colin was on him like a cat, sitting on his chest.
“You cheated,” Alec gasped. “I wasn't warmed up.”
“You've been using that excuse for more than twenty years, Macpherson.” Colin grinned.
Colin stood and offered Alec a hand up.
“I thought you were going to train with us this morning,” Colin asked. “God knows, you need it.”
The two men watching nearby had been listening to this kind of exchange for as long as they'd served under Lord Campbell, and knew that, after Colin, Alec Macpherson was probably the strongest warrior in the Highlands.
“I was going to come down and play with you gorillas,” Alec responded, “but I'm on holiday.”
“When are you not on holiday, you wee fragile marmoset?” Colin growled.
“I wonder if this sour disposition might have something to do with being dismissed by a certain Lady Caithness last night.”