The Arrow: A Highland Guard Novel (The Highland Guard) (10 page)

Cate’s mouth tightened. Perhaps the change in her appearance had not been as dramatic as John’s reaction had led her to believe, and Gregor needed a little help to see it?

The moment the widow walked away, Cate diverted Gregor’s attention from the other woman’s sashaying hips back to her by stepping slightly in front of him to block his view. “I’m wearing a new dress,” she pointed out.

His jaw appeared to tighten before he turned his gaze to meet hers. The quick once-over he did of the gown was hardly longer than the passing glance he’d given her earlier. “It’s nice.”

It’s
nice? Not even a “
you
look nice”? Good gracious, the man handed out compliments to every other woman
like they were sweets to bairns, and all he could manage for her was
nice
?

She glared at him. “Do you think the color flattering? Your mother thought so when she bought it for me, but I wasn’t sure.”

She saw the telltale tic of annoyance appear on his jaw, but as she was rather annoyed herself, she paid it no mind.

“It’s certainly an improvement over the brown you were wearing earlier.”

Cate gasped in outrage. The beast! He meant the mud!

Her eyes narrowed, anger replacing her earlier disappointment. Was he purposefully being dense? Didn’t he realize that she was practically banging him over the head to get him to notice her?

Apparently, her banging was too subtle. She straightened, sticking her chest out the way Seonaid did whenever she came within fifty yards of him. “You do not think it’s too tight? I’ve grown quite a bit in the past two years.”

For one long heartbeat his eyes dropped. She sucked in her breath, feeling singed, as if a slow-moving wildfire were sweeping across her chest. Yet, oddly, her nipples hardened the way they did in a cold bath. The heat and hardness were a heady sensation, making her skin flush with a heavy tingle. It was as if her body were the string of a
clàrsach
that had just been strummed.

She felt her knees grow weak. Something hot and powerful fired between them. Something that made the air feel thick with tension. She knew she would see heat reflected in his gaze—the desire that she’d longed for.

But his eyes when they returned to hers weren’t hot at all—they were cool and distant.

“If the gown is uncomfortable, you can go change,” he said indifferently. “We will wait to start the meal. But don’t take too long—I’m hungry.”

He turned back to John, who’d been listening to the conversation with an odd expression on his face, and Cate
didn’t know whether to cry or kick the handsome clod in his leather-clad backside.

She was saved from making the decision by the appearance of Ete, who stepped out from the wooden partition behind the dais that separated the Hall from the corridor leading to the kitchens and the small room that served as the laird’s solar. Cate gave her a questioning look and the other woman nodded. The children were ready.

Anticipating that Gregor would not want this meeting to take place in public, Cate had asked Ete to bring the children to the laird’s solar.

She put her hand on Gregor’s arm, startling him from his conversation with his brother. He stiffened, the muscles in his arm turned as rigid as steel. Moss-green eyes fixed on hers with an intensity that made her shiver.

She dropped her hand, the tension emanating from him startling her. Good gracious, what was the matter with him? He acted like she had the plague.

“They are waiting for us,” she said hastily.

“Who?”

She tried not to lose her patience, reminding herself how important it was that this went well, but it wasn’t easy. How could he have forgotten about them already? “Your children.”

Gregor shot a look to John, who just shrugged and gave him a “don’t look at me” look. “I told her you wouldn’t like it,” John said.

“And I told him,” Cate said with a tight smile to John (the traitor), “that you wouldn’t deny your own flesh and blood.”

Gregor’s mouth tightened, and she knew he wanted to argue with her premise but was holding his tongue—presumably because he knew his shouting would enable others to overhear their conversation.

“Where are they?” he asked impatiently, clearly eager for the meeting to be done with.

“In the solar.”

He gestured with his hand for her to lead the way.

“Watch your feet,” John said with a snicker.

Cate shot him a chastising glare, and pulled Gregor along when he would have turned to ask his brother what he meant.

“Perhaps you can pour Gregor some wine for when we get back, John,” she said over her shoulder with a sugary smile.

The solar was small and without a window to let in natural light. Even with the circular iron candelabrum lit, the room was fairly dark. It wasn’t until she closed the door behind them, however, that Cate realized her mistake. The two younger children took one look at the big warrior, and their eyes went wide with fright. Only Pip didn’t look like he was about to burst out in tears. Nay, Pip was too intent on scowling and projecting an air of surly indifference to notice how the room seemed to suddenly fill with the big, strapping warrior.

Having become accustomed to his size, Cate forgot how physically intimidating Gregor could be. At three or four inches over six feet, he was a head taller than most men. Five years ago he’d still possessed some of the lean muscle of youth, but not any longer. Nay, now his build was all hard, solid man. His muscular chest and arms didn’t need to be clad in armor to look intimidating; they were steely and forbidding all on their own. As her eyes skimmed over the broad shoulders and bulging arms, taking him in as if for the first time, an odd little flutter of awareness tingled low in her belly. She felt … 
funny
.

Maddy’s whimper, however, knocked her from her stupor with a frown.

“You’re scaring them,” she said under her breath.

One very finely arched brow lifted. “I’m just standing here.”

“Aye, well try not to look so big.” He stared at her as if
he couldn’t figure out whether she was serious or not. Not knowing herself, but realizing how nervous she was, she began the introductions. “You’ve already met Phillip,” she said. “And this young man is Edward—Eddie.” She knelt down and held out her hand to the little boy. He eyed Gregor uncertainly, looking as if he wanted to bury his head in Ete’s skirts. But after Cate’s encouraging nod, he released the nursemaid’s hand, slid the fingers into his mouth, and slipped his other hand into Cate’s.

“He has red hair,” Gregor said incredulously. “And freckles!”

Cate stood, meeting his accusing stare. “How very observant of you,” she said, with a sharp look of warning not to say anything more in front of the children.

She’d known the bright red hair and freckles would be a problem. The coloring, although common enough in the Highlands, did not run in Gregor’s immediate family. It was the first thing John had pointed out.

But surely with the plethora of women Gregor had been with, there had been at least a handful of redheads?

If the darkening look on his face was any indication, it seemed perhaps not.

She knew she was searching for a straw to clutch, but even if she’d harbored more than a big twinge of doubt about Pip, she’d held out
some
hope for the little ones. It would be so much easier to convince him to let them stay if there was a possibility they were his.

Proving that he wasn’t a completely unfeeling brute, however, Gregor bent down on a knee to address the little boy. “How old are you, Edward?”

Cate winced at the same time that Eddie jumped. Even lowered, Gregor’s voice was deep and authoritative. Scary to someone not used to being on the other side of his questions. Cate, of course, had plenty of experience with that.

Eddie, however, did not. When the little boy decided to use her skirts as a curtain to hide behind, Cate gave him an
encouraging nudge forward. “It’s okay, Eddie. This is your new laird. Remember I told you about him? He’s been off fighting the nasty old English in the war. He won’t hurt you. He just wants to ask you some questions.”

The little boy looked up at her with his big blue eyes and nodded. Peeking out from behind her skirt, he held up three fingers.

“Come here, lad,” Gregor said in a gentler voice.

Cate put her hand on the boy’s head. “I’m not sure that’s a good—”

Gregor shot her a glare. “I’m not going to hurt him. I just want to ask him a few questions.”

That wasn’t why she’d tried to stop him.

“It’s okay, Eddie,” Pip said with a devilish grin.

Cate shot him a look and started to explain to Gregor, but it was too late. Gregor had taken the boy’s hand from hers and drawn him forward.

Cate said a silent prayer the little boy didn’t get too scared or upset.

“When is your saint’s day, lad?” Gregor asked.

Eddie gave him a big gap-toothed grin and Cate heaved a sigh of relief. Maybe it would be all right after all. “All Saint’s Day. Pip gave me a new ball ’cause I was sad.”

“Why were you sad?”

The smile fell as quickly as it had appeared. “I missed my mummy.”

Gregor’s voice was even softer yet, and Cate felt her heart tumble from her chest. “What’s your mummy’s name, Eddie?”

“Mummy.” His little jaw started to tremble. “I want my mummy.”

Cate would have moved toward him, but Gregor put a firm hand on his back. “I know you do, lad. And I would like to find her for you, but I need to know her name. What did other people call her? Janet? Mary? Elizabeth? Christina …?”

Eddie brightened with understanding. “Ellen! That’s what my Gram called her.”

“And did your mum have nice red hair like you, lad?”

Eddie nodded furiously.

Gregor smiled, gave the boy a pat on the head, and stood. The smug look on his face did not bode well. The boy’s answer seemed to have convinced Gregor that he was not his father.

The matter decided in his mind at least, Gregor turned to the little girl, who was wiggling in Ete’s arms. “And who is this?”

“Mathilda, my laird,” Ete said. “A right heavy handful this one is.”

Gregor frowned. “Doesn’t she walk?”

Cate and Ete exchange a look. “Not really, my laird,” the older woman answered dryly. “It’s more of a run.”

As if on cue, a determined “Down!” was added to Maddy’s wiggling.

Gregor looked at Cate. “She talks?”

Cate shrugged. “A few words here and there. We think she’s about sixteen months—give or take a few.” Cate held out her arms to a struggling Ete. “Here, I’ll take her.”

But for once, Maddy didn’t seem to want Cate to hold her. She’d apparently overcome her temporary fear of Gregor and was eyeing him intently, while squirming and saying “no” over and over to Cate. Her face was growing redder and redder, and Cate feared those “no’s” were about to turn to a screech. That had to be avoided at all costs.

“Here, you take her,” Cate said, thrusting the child into his arms and not giving him a chance to refuse. “I think she wants you.”

The stunned look on his face would have been comical if Maddy hadn’t immediately quieted and started making a sound Cate had never heard from her before. In between sniffles from the cold she was still getting over, the cranky
toddler—the
very
cranky toddler who hadn’t done much but scream for the past week—started to coo and goo, making eyes at him like …

Good lord, did he have the same effect on females of all ages? It appeared so. The little girl was flirting!

“I think you’ve made another conquest,” Cate said dryly.

Some of Gregor’s shock had worn off, but he was still holding the little girl out like she had the plague. He did, however, grin. A devastating grin that made Cate suck in her breath. It was a grin that had made countless women fall at his feet, her included.

“Apparently the lass has good taste. I guess that is something.” He examined her like a piglet at market. “She’s a cute little thing, if you like white-blond hair and big blue eyes.”

She would have wagered he did, but something about the way he said it made her wonder.

Gregor asked Cate what she knew of the child, and Cate started to tell him, but apparently Maddy had other ideas. She started kicking and bouncing up and down, reaching for Gregor to pull her closer. “My!” she said, then louder, “My!”

“I think she wants your brooch, my laird,” Ete said. “She likes shiny things.”

But it wasn’t the large gold broach set around an onyx stone securing the plaid he wore around his shoulders that Maddy wanted. It was the
other
shiny thing.

As soon as Gregor pulled the little girl in closer, she reached for his face, putting her no-doubt droolly hand on his cheek. “My! Pretty!”

There was a moment of stunned silence at the child’s proclamation.

But then Cate and Ete took one look at Gregor’s horrified face, exchanged glances, and burst into laughter. Seeing Gregor’s horror at being called “pretty,” even Pip joined in.

Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so bad if Eddie hadn’t started laughing, too. Thus they found out the hard way that the little boy didn’t release his bladder
only
when he was scared or upset.

“Oh, no,” Eddie whispered, tugging her skirts. “I have to go.”

Cate looked down and tried not to groan. “I think you already went, sweeting.”

“What the hell?” Gregor yelled, jumping back and nearly dropping Maddy as the stream of liquid headed for his feet.

Cate took one look at his face and knew the chance for a good impression was long gone. With nothing to lose, she gave in to the laughter and grinned. “John warned you to watch your feet.”

After nearly having had his foot pissed on, the midday meal was blissfully anticlimactic. But Gregor was painfully aware of the woman at his side.

As if it weren’t bad enough that his body was humming with attraction, she was aggravating his edginess with laughter. Hers, at his expense.

“This is quite a pretty bowl, isn’t it, Gregor?” and “What a pretty dress that is, Màiri, don’t you agree, Gregor?” followed by “The heather was so pretty a couple of months ago, Gregor—too bad you could not have returned then.”