“Understandable.”
“Nae that I have anythin’ against prayin’ per se. But I think there should be limits on these things. I mean, I used tae get very sore knees.”
“Clearly, ye’re nae cut out fer the religious life, ye havenae the knees fer it,” he told her, trying not to laugh as he escorted her down the stairs, taking each step one at a time. He did not want her to slip.
“Aye, I’m beginnin’ tae suspect I’m irredeemable.”
Malcolm smiled as he listened to her excited chatter. She made him laugh more than any one he knew, save Ewan. She made him feel alive.
The effect of her shining presence at the top table was immediately apparent. She greeted every person he introduced her to with such genuine warmth he could see even the crustiest, hardest hearts melting beneath the heat of her smile.
And she had not been exaggerating when she said she had already met a lot of people. He watched with amazement as she addressed the courtly ladies on first name terms and chatted happily to them for several minutes before he called everyone to sit down.
He watched her interact with his people with a pride he knew had no right to feel. He knew what it looked like when a man was seriously in love with his wife, as Duncan was with Elaina. His eyes sought his wife where ever she was in the room, he took every chance to be near her, touch her, feed her tasty morsels from his plate. Take her to bed.
I’m nae in love with her. I’m just… drawn tae her. I like her. We’re friends.
Catriona was seated directly opposite him at the table. Though he maintained conversation with the others seated nearby, including his brother, who always sat to his right, he found his eyes inevitably returned to her. Because she sparkled.
“Would ye like some more wine, Catriona?” he asked, seeing her cup was almost empty.
She twinkled at him, clearly enjoying herself. “Och, thank ye, Malcolm, I will.”
Five minutes later, he was at it again. “Have ye had enough tae eat, Catriona? Have ye tried the roast ham?”
“I’d love tae try some ham, Malcolm.” He placed it on her plate for her, internally basking in her radiance.
He made sure to point all the sweet things, which he knew she liked, even troubling the other guests to pass the dishes up the table just so he could put some on her plate.
Midway through the meal, he was talking to Rory and John Morrow, both to his left. But out of the corner of his eye he was watching Catriona at the same time. She was talking to Ewan. Ewan, who knew how to charm people, tell jokes, always knew the right thing to say, made people warm to him. Especially pretty women.
He could hear his brother was on fine form because Catriona was very animated, smiling and laughing. He tried hard to hear what they were talking about but it was too noisy for him to catch anything but a few odd words and phrases. He found himself growing increasingly frustrated.
A hot little nugget of jealousy ignited in his gut. He tried to quench it with more wine, not quite successfully.
“I reckon we can increase the output by about fifteen percent by next summer with the right investment. What d’ye think, Malcolm?”
He suddenly realized John was asking him something and snapped his attention away from Catriona and Ewan.
“Sorry, John, I didnae quite catch that,” he said apologetically. John repeated his question, and gradually Malcolm was pulled into a discussion about his plans to expand whisky production from the Gordon distillery.
Even so, he was intensely aware of Catriona opposite him, and he could hear the hum of his brother’s voice chiming with her light, feminine tone.
He tried to pay attention to what Rory was saying about increasing the workforce at the distillery.
“If we need extra workers, there are plenty of men down in the villages who need steady work. We should see about hirin’ some of them on,” he was saying when he was rudely interrupted by a peal of feminine laughter.
His belly knotting, he turned his head slightly, to see Catriona with her head thrown back, still laughing, her eyes shining brightly with mirth. She met his eyes, her smile widening.
He turned a little further. Just as he suspected, Ewan was grinning, looking very pleased with himself. To add insult to injury, when Ewan saw his brother looking at him, he winked. Malcolm looked back to Rory at once, not wanting his brother to see the glint of jealousy in his eyes.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Later on, when Malcolm had finished talking with his councilmen he rejoined the general chatter. He felt something close to despair. Still, he remained calm and tried to be a good host.
He summoned smiles for Catriona, hiding the sadness behind them. “Ye look like ye’re enjoyin’ yersel’,” he observed, refilling her wine cup, then his own.
“Och, I’m havin’ the best time, Malcolm. Everyone is so nice, and Ewan makes me laugh.”
