WHILE BREAKING THEIRfast, Torr was keenly aware of Cat's every glance. Her great concern for his minor injury when he'd been in kelpie form the night before had warmed his heart. She had naught to fash over. Finnian had examined the scratch, then Torr had applied some healing salve.
He glanced at her again and found her captivating gaze upon him. With Finnian and the maids nearby, Torr could not converse with Cat nor touch her as he wished.
He wanted to get his most onerous task for the day over with so he could focus on something more intriguing—stealing a kiss from Cat in the upstairs corridor.
"I'm going to scribe the missive to Chief MacTavish about the demise of his cousin." Torr arose from the table.
Finnian stood. "Do you want me to send Charlie to the castle to request the chief's messenger?"
"Indeed. I would appreciate it," Torr said.
Finnian headed out the door.
After giving Cat a covert wink, Torr strode toward the stairwell. Her palpable gaze lingering upon him heated him from the inside out.
He wished she would follow him up the steps, but he needed to concentrate on his task. 'Twas a solemn one, and he wanted to give it his full attention.
Indeed, he craved private time with Cat without anyone, especially Aggie, knowing about it. The maid took her chaperone duties seriously. He and Cat had spent little time alone together since their dalliance in the wood. That occasion had been extraordinary, for they had experienced the peak of pleasure together. He knew the risks but refused to regret it.
Cat's voice echoed upward from the great hall as she said something to her maid.
He paused at the landing to listen with his enhanced hearing.
Cat yawned loudly. "Pray pardon, Aggie. I'm exhausted."
"Well then, m'lady, why not have yourself a wee nap?"
"A grand idea. I think I will."
Something thunked against the wooden table. "I'll come up and help you undress."
"Nay, I can do it," Cat said. "Take the day off and rest."
"Humph. If I rest as much as you suggest, I'll grow lazy." The maid stamped away, her leather shoes slapping on the stone floor.
Quietly, Torr continued to his chamber, lest Cat catch him eavesdropping. Moments later, from inside his room, he heard her door close. She was tired from arising so early, and he would allow her to sleep.
Taking a seat at his desk by the window, he pulled out a piece of paper, his inkhorn, and a feather quill. Examining the nib, he found it sharp enough.
Focusing intently on the brief message he wished to convey to Gavin about how Alpin had met his end, along with information about Wilona MacRae, Torr had the missive finished in less than a quarter hour.
He sprinkled sand over the ink to help it dry faster. He didn't want to smear the words in his impatience. A few moments later, he shook off the sand and folded the paper into a rectangle.
After melting red sealing wax and dripping a large blob on the edge, he stamped his monogramed signet ring into the warm wax. This would tell Gavin who the letter was from immediately. Torr no longer wore the ring, for he didn't want to lose it in the wood when he shifted each evening. Instead, he left it on his desk for the sole purpose of sealing missives.
Hopefully, his brother's runner would return with Charlie forthwith, and Gavin could receive this letter today.
Torr opened his door and strode out. Passing Cat's bedchamber door, he glanced up to see it open slightly. Surprised that she only wore a thin smock, he slid to a halt. Fierce arousal rushed through his body so quickly it near made him dizzy.
Her breasts were only partially hidden behind the gauzy material.
And her expression... she appeared near as aroused as he felt.
Remembering the missive in his hand, he lifted it. "I'll be right back," he whispered.
Though 'twas difficult, he descended the stairs and hurried out to the barmkin. The place was deserted. Mayhap his expectations for Charlie were too high. The lad took care of horses; he was not a fleet-footed messenger.
Mayhap 'twas for the best that Torr couldn't rush back inside, and mayhap he should no longer succumb to the temptation of Cat. What if he got her with child? After that last time, she might already be. That thought did not alarm him as it should. Instead, he relished it. Something deep inside told him she should be his wife. Yet, he knew he was not good enough for her. Not only was he cursed, he was a third son, not a well-heeled chief.
