The Arrow Read online

  “I might, if I weren’t convinced she was in love with someone else.”

  Me. Gregor stepped back, the fight suddenly out of him. John means me.

  “Thinks she’s in love with someone else,” he amended.

  “And you’re so sure she’s not?”

  Hell, he didn’t know what to think. “It doesn’t matter.”

  John gave him a long look that reminded him too much of their father. Weak. Never amount to anything. A disappointment. But he’d proved him wrong. The king of Scotland trusted him, damn it.

  “If that is true, then do everyone a favor and find her a husband before you do something you will regret.”

  “I don’t need a lecture from my little brother. I know how to control myself. I’ve had a little experience with women, you know.”

  “Aye, but none of them are Cate.”

  With words that were far truer than Gregor wanted them to be, John left him standing there. Cate was different, damn it. He couldn’t deal with her in the same way he did other women, which meant he didn’t know how to deal with her at all. He was used to giving women what they wanted—in other words, a night or two of pleasure—but that wasn’t an option with Cate. Which left him on the unfamiliar ground of being attracted to a woman and having to deal with it outside the bedchamber.

  He never should have brought her here in the first place. He had no business taking responsibility for a young girl. But it was five years too late for recriminations. Now the best thing he could do was get her out of here before he did something they would both regret.

  Not even Gregor’s noticeable absence from the evening meal could put a damper on Cate’s happiness. If anything, perhaps it bolstered it. That he was avoiding her only proved that the kiss had meant something to him. She assumed he’d gone out with his bow—although oddly, she hadn’t seen him with it since he arrived.

  Gregor always disappeared for hours with his bow when he was upset or needed to think. His mother had been convinced that he’d become such a good archer because of all the arguments Gregor had with his father when he was younger. Cate thought there probably was some truth to that, but natural ability, determination, and drive to be the best factored into it as well.

  She wished his father were alive to see it. Though Duncan MacGregor had been dead for a number of years before Cate arrived, she knew how much his opinion—his disregard—had motivated Gregor. But he’d proved his father wrong.

  His skill was truly extraordinary. She loved watching him practice and wished she’d seen him compete at the Highland Games before the war. Although from the stories of the female entourage that followed him around, perhaps she wouldn’t have enjoyed it so much.

  Speaking of female entourages, when she entered the Hall for the morning meal, she wasn’t surprised to see it crowded with women hoping for a glimpse of the handsome laird. It would only grow worse in the next few days with the Christmas festivities, and then the Hogmanay feast, which was maybe why she was looking forward to neither. She wanted him to herself. Would they ever leave him alone, or would women flocking around him constantly be something Cate would have to get used to?

  The thought was mildly disconcerting. She wished she’d had the foresight to fall in love with someone who didn’t make women cast their hearts—and the rest of their bodies—at him wherever he went. It certainly would be much easier on her temper. Cate had a feeling she’d be walking into many Halls over the next few years, wanting to toss more than one pretty maid out on her ear.

  It bothered her to think that Gregor could equate her with the fawning masses. She wasn’t like them. She bit her lip, recalling her not-so-subtle ploys of the first few days he was home. She hadn’t been trying to trap him; she’d been trying to get him to notice her.

  With the handsome laird conspicuously absent from the high table, John appeared to be holding court in his stead, but when he caught sight of her, he waved her over to take a place beside him on the bench.

  “Busy morning,” she said with a smile. “I hope I am not interrupting anything?” She lowered her voice. “I don’t think Lizzie was too happy to make space for me on the bench.”

  John grinned back at her, glancing at the pretty, blond-haired daughter of the porter who had returned to her place beside her father at one of the other trestle tables. “Aye, well, it wasn’t me she wished to see anyway.”

  Cate quirked her brow. With the way the blonde was eyeing him, Cate wasn’t so sure. John didn’t need to be in his brother’s shadow, and one day soon he would realize that and step out of it. Eventually he would tell Gregor that he wanted to fight—not stay here and take care of his holdings for him.

  “Where is Gregor?”

  John shrugged, looking as if his cotun wasn’t sitting on his shoulders comfortably. “He had some business to attend to this morning.”

  “More missives? I’ve seen more messengers around here since he arrived than we’ve had in the past year.” Her expression suddenly drew concerned. “You don’t think it’s about the war, do you? Is the king planning something?”

  Bruce had better not call him away again, she thought bitterly. Initially, Cate had assumed Gregor was one of the many Highland warriors who had joined Bruce’s army, under their chiefs. But he did not seem to fight often with his uncle Malcolm, Chief of the MacGregors. More often than not, he seemed to be near the king himself. But whenever she questioned him or John about Gregor’s role in the king’s army, they answered vaguely. As the subject was not one she liked to discuss, she didn’t pursue the matter, but sometimes she wondered if he was closer to the king than he let on.

  Not wanting to think about that, she turned back to John.

  “I’m sure it has more to do with the feast,” he said.

  Cate relaxed. “Ah, you are probably right. Has he invited many of the neighboring clans?”

  “I believe so.”

  “He’s been so secretive about it. Almost as if he’s planning a surprise of some kind.”

  Strangely, John didn’t seem to be avoiding her gaze. “I’m sure it will be quite a surprise.”

  “What?”

  He shook her off. “Nothing, just …” His voice fell off as if he’d changed his mind about what he was going to say. “There are going to be some changes around here when my brother leaves, and I do not want to see you get hurt.”

  The blood drained from her cheeks. “Then he has been called back?” Gregor had told her he’d be home until the first week of January.

  John shook his head. “Nay. Not yet. But it will come in the new year, and I want you to be prepared.”

  Clearly, he was trying to tell her something. “Prepared for what?” Suddenly, her heart dropped. “Has Gregor said something about the children? Does he mean to send them away?”

  John immediately put a hand on her arm to calm her. “Gregor has said nothing to me about the children, although I warned you that I do not think he will allow them to stay.”

  “You should have more faith in him,” Cate admonished. “He is not as uncaring as he wants everyone to believe.”

  John studied her. “Perhaps not, but that does not mean he will be the man you want him to be, Cate. There is such a thing as blind faith, and I do not wish to see you get hurt.”

  “I won’t,” she said, believing it. “You don’t need to worry—I know what I am doing.”

  John didn’t look convinced. “Promise me you will be careful, Caty.” She stiffened at the endearment, although he didn’t notice. “You deserve someone who will make you happy.”

  It was clear he didn’t think Gregor was that man.

  She caught the direction of his gaze and frowned. “I wonder what Farquhar is doing here so early this morning? He has been around Dunlyon quite a bit of late.”

  Indeed, after he’d escorted her from church that day, he seemed to make a point of exchanging a few words with her before seeking out John. This time, however, he appeared distracted and didn’t even nod in her direction as