“I…was…busy.”

“You slept later than you normally do. Missed days of breakfasts and skipped them entirely.”

“I had stayed up too late.”

“You had gone to bed early.”

He almost smiled at her tenacity. “Anything else?” As if that wasn’t enough.

“You missed engagements and you never do that. You are one of the most punctual and levelheaded of your brothers, but you were snapping at anyone who touched on the sensitive subject of the ex-girlfriend.”

“I did not.”

She let out her breath again. “You refuse to talk about it to anyone. If it was no big deal, you’d joke about it or something. But you’ve buried the whole situation instead.”

“This is about your writing, isn’t it?” he asked, since Julia was a romance author.

“Huh?”

“You analyze people to make up stories, even if you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

She smiled and patted his leg. “Suffice it to say that I worry about you.” She finished her hot chocolate.

“Well, I thought you were involved in the seating arrangement in the great hall for an earlier meal,” he said, raising an accusatory brow. “And that my brothers and cousins are conspiring to get me together with the lass.”

“It’s true we’ve all enjoyed seeing that you and Calla are…hitting it off. I don’t think any of us believed that the two of you would progress to this point so…quickly.” She cast him a wee smile. “I just think for your sake, you might be a little more cautious.” She rose from her chair and he stood. “’Night, Guthrie.”

Before she could leave, Guthrie said, “I understand you and the ladies are Christmas shopping tomorrow.”

“Yes. You’re not on the guard detail,” she said.

“Aye. I’ll just go along and stick close to you.”

He expected her to say he couldn’t go because he needed to be more…circumspect. Instead, to his surprise, Julia actually offered him a radiant smile. Then she took her leave and he wondered what that discussion had really been about. He knew he could live another hundred years and still not understand the workings of a woman’s mind.

***

Calla had just settled into bed and was reading a little more of the book on parties on a budget when someone knocked on her door. Guthrie? Here to apologize? She ground her teeth and got out of bed. She grabbed her robe and put it on, then cinched it. If he apologized, she was going to give him a tongue-lashing.

When she opened the door, she found Julia standing there instead, all smiles. “I’m sorry to disturb you when you probably had already gone to bed, but…could we talk for a moment?”

Oh, great, now Julia was going to lecture her at this hour? Calla let her in and closed the door, forming the explanation she’d wanted to give Julia earlier. Before she could start, Julia said, “I’m worried about you.”

An hour later, Julia bid Calla good night. She was surprised by what Julia had told her—that Guthrie had seriously considered mating with another woman and was in total denial that the breakup had affected him. All the things that Julia had brought up concerning Guthrie had been the same for Calla—the sleeping in, the lack of appetite, the unwillingness to speak about Baird with anyone. She’d thrown herself into her work, found herself unable to concentrate on her business, and missed meetings with clients. She’d locked herself away in her home, not wanting to go anywhere or do anything beyond work-related activities—while telling others she was too tired.

She’d been worried that she might be headed for a rebound situation with Guthrie. She felt awful that he was experiencing that instead.

Calla curled back up in bed with her book, sure that her decision to put some space between her and Guthrie was the right one. She would not lust after Guthrie’s hot kisses or give in to his heated gazes or think of him as anything more than a friend like Cearnach was. But she and Cearnach had never kissed. Well, once when they were young. She’d found it much like her mother or father kissing her. He’d certainly never turned her furnace up to blazing. She’d never blushed around him, ever, that she could recall. Even now, just thinking about the way Guthrie had touched her so intimately, she was hot and interested all over again.

She vowed to just be friends, though. Maybe when he’d had sufficient time to get over his breakup they might court each other. Sometime in the future. She set the book aside and turned off her light. Tomorrow, Calla would pay a surprise visit to Guthrie’s math class to show him they really could be just friends.

With that thought in mind, she smiled and closed her eyes. And immediately envisioned Guthrie suckling on her nipple. She groaned.

There wasn’t any way that she could see him in the same light as she saw Cearnach.

***

Ian wrapped Julia in his arms, snuggling with her, kissing her hair, and cleared his throat, suspecting why his sweet, little American lass had to slip off to get a cup of hot chocolate so late at night. Last night, she’d done the same thing, only she’d never gotten her hot chocolate and had come straight back to bed. When she told him about Guthrie and Calla and the spilt milk, he couldn’t help but laugh.

This evening after the toga party, Guthrie had escorted Calla to the garden room to talk about Baird, according to Ethan. His poor brother. Ian could just imagine how Guthrie would have reacted to the bare-breasted woman. Ian wondered how he would have responded, had it been him in the same situation. Especially if he’d been worried about how Julia would take it.