She laughed and sipped her own milk, her heart aching with love for him. They stood close together like that while silence fell over them, enclosing them in their own little world.
Malcolm’s expression suddenly sobered. “Tomorrow,” he said quietly, “I’ll speak tae Duncan.”
Catriona’s pulse fluttered nervously despite herself, but she only nodded.
“I cannae keep hidin’ from it. ’Tis drivin’ me mad. I’m like a cat on hot coals.”
“I’m glad. I’ll be even gladder when ’tis done,” she said gently, admiring his resolution. He was such a good, honorable man. And she was desperate for things to be settled.
For one suspended moment they simply looked at each other.
Then Malcolm suddenly bent and kissed her lips, a hungry kiss, though all too brief. It was enough to send heat spiraling through her entire body. When he pulled away, she made a soft sound of protest.
“Careful, lass, dinnae tempt me,” he murmured gruffly, the red glow of the coals dancing in his eyes. “Or I’ll forget where we are.”
She smiled, her lips tingling from the pressure of his kiss, from the honey-sweet taste of him. “Perhaps I want ye tae forget.”
The smoldering look he gave her made her knees turn to jelly. With visible effort, he drained his cup, placed it on the table, and stepped away from her towards the door.
“Finish yer milk. I’ll walk ye upstairs.”
She did as he bade her, put her cup next to his, and then went out through the door he held open for her.
The hallways lay silent and dimly lit as they climbed together toward the upper chambers. Catriona felt strangely peaceful beside him despite everything looming ahead.
They were talking quietly as they reached her chamber when Duncan’s door suddenly opened and he stepped out into the hallway.
All three of them froze.
Duncan blinked at the sight before him—his sister and Malcolm together in the corridor long after midnight.
“Well,” he said slowly. “I thought I heard talkin’, but this is unexpected.”
Catriona’s heart began pounding. Beside her, Malcolm went rigid.
“We couldnae sleep,” he said with remarkable calm considering the circumstances. “I was just walkin’ Cat back from the kitchens.”
Duncan’s gaze shifted between them thoughtfully. It was not accusing exactly, but she could clearly see the glimmer of suspicion there and felt afraid for Malcolm.
Duncan’s eyes settled on her. “Is that so?” It was not a question.
“Aye, I wanted some warm milk,” Catriona supplied quickly, her breath stalling.
A pause followed that was probably shorter than it felt. Then, Duncan rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “Ach, I cannae stand the stuff. ’Tis fit only fer babes.”
She breathed out slowly, seeing relief flicker briefly across Malcolm’s face as well.
“Goodnight, Duncan,” Catriona said sweetly.
“Hmm.” Rubbing his head, he disappeared back into his chamber, though not before casting Malcolm one final, deeply assessing look.
The moment the door shut, Malcolm groaned softly under his breath. Catriona put her hand to her chest, trying not to laugh hysterically from relief.
Malcolm dragged a hand down his face. “Christ, Cat.” He leaned over and opened her door for her, pushing her gently over the threshold.
“A cat on hot coals, I think that was what ye said,” she murmured, smiling as she turned to face him, loathe to say goodbye.
“Goodnight, Malcolm. Sweet dreams.”
