"Indeed. He is many things—an inventor, an alchemist. His mother had the sight, and 'tis likely he does too."
"Did you see how he ran across the floor like a lad? How old is he?" Cat joined Torr at the pitted oak table.
"Three score and ten. But he has claimed that age since I was a wee lad."
Her mouth dropped open. "He could be ninety summers or more."
"'Tis possible. He has always looked the same to me."
Aggie entered the room. "Glad I am to see you returned, m'lady. Sir Torr." She curtsied and placed a wooden tray of sliced bread and two tankards of ale on the table. "You must be starving."
"Indeed," Cat said.
Maude entered next, carrying two wooden bowls of stew. "Where is Finnian?"
"He will likely be in the laboratory for hours. He has a new project," Torr said.
"Och. The motley-minded haggard," Maude muttered. "He will starve in that chamber of madness."
The two maids retreated to the kitchen to consume their meals.
After devouring a spoonful of the stew, Catriona studied Torr, appreciating his magnificent good looks. How she loved sitting across the table from him. This was home. She swallowed and smiled.
Torr eyed the cup of ale suspiciously, then glanced at her.
She sighed. "I put naught in it. Nor the wine earlier."
"'Haps not, but you have been known to. Or Finnian could've done it before we arrived."
"Was it so bad?"
"Nay." Torr grinned. "'Twas most enjoyable."
Her heart warmed. She didn't think the wine was drugged at all. Her need for him had been her own, not potion-induced. Which meant his desire for her had been natural as well.
They ate in silence for a few moments. When she looked into his eyes, he glanced away, then up at the ceiling.
"What are you looking at?" She followed his gaze, hoping Wilona hadn't flown into the room in bat form.
"Naught. I was but thinking... never mind."
"What? Please tell me."
He shrugged and looked a bit uncomfortable. "I have always loved this tower. One of my ancestors oversaw the construction of this old castle more than three hundred years ago. Since I was a lad, I've wanted to have the ruined parts rebuilt just as they were before the English army knocked them down. My brother might even bequeath it to me, but only if I earn it by serving as his spokesman."
Cat nodded, studying the old yet skillfully done rock work. She loved it too and hoped she could live here permanently after she married Torr. The very idea was thrilling.
"Did you enjoy your position within the clan?" she asked.
"Aye, of course." His gaze intensified upon her.
"Why would the curse cause your brother to withdraw the position?"
"'Twas not him alone. My clansmen, especially the elders, are a superstitious lot. They mistrust me." Pain glinted in Torr's eyes. "Angus is all that keeps them from coming after me. They think me a sorcerer. Besides that, I cannot convey Angus's messages after dark if I'm a kelpie."
"'Tis true," she murmured. Feeling great empathy, she wanted to take Torr into her arms and soothe him. Before she could move, Finnian yanked open his door and trotted into the great hall, an astonished expression on his wizened face. Heavens! What had he seen in the keek-stane?
"What is it?" Torr asked.
