Every so often, Stewart engaged me in conversation, forcing Declan to speak with me as well. Mostly about preparations for leaving on the morrow, given Stewart would be traveling with us, too, and general conversation about what we could expect ahead.
“’Twill nae be as favorable traveling at this time of year,” Declan warned me at one point. “So pack wisely.”
“You forget I hail from the Norwegian-Russian border where ‘tis often frigid and snowy,” I said, warming at the way his emerald gaze felt on me at this range, hoping I didn’t blush, given we were by no means flirting. Yet I still saw desire burning in his eyes. “You also forget my blood possesses the spirit of the great white bear, and like such a mighty beast, I have long learned to survive dangerously cold temperatures.”
“Then this trek into the highlands should suit you well,” he said gruffly, just as affected by me as I was by him.
“’Tis a shame you couldnae bring a lass along for company,” Stewart commented, his gaze lingering on Florie where she dined across the hall with a group of villagers. If I had my way, she would be sitting with us, but unfortunately, she didn’t have enough standing within the clan.
“Astrid has her dog to keep her company,” Declan reminded, glancing between his two friends as if he, too, might realize something simmered between them.
“And us to keep Astrid company.” Stewart grinned at Declan. “But mostly you, by the sounds of it, guardsman.”
Lachlannhadsmoothly managed that, hadn’t he? Where he might have simply asked Declan to keep an eye on me, he had instead enabled his son to take on the more personal role of guarding me, effectively forcing him to spend more time with me than he might have preferred.
It didn’t end there, either, as both of us found out later that night when Lachlann, once again, smoothly steered us closer to each other.
In fact, things went far beyond what King Alexander would ever have approved, making our journey ahead more precarious than ever.
Chapter Six
-DECLAN-
As always, from the moment Astrid joined my father and me upon the king’s arrival to the second we went our separate ways after dining, I was overly aware of her. Though always beautiful, she had looked especially radiant today, dressed in blue and the Mackay plaid, with her honey blond hair flowing around her slender shoulders.
A vision that turned many a head, including Gustav’s.
So, I wasn’t surprised when Gustav and I stood before the fire later that evening, after the king and my father had retired, sharing a dram of whisky, and he brought her up, his gaze lingering on the stairs she had climbed earlier.
“Astrid marrying your father is quite unexpected,” he commented, looking at me curiously if not dubiously. “Quite frankly, given the way you look at her, ‘tis surprising the elder marries her and not the junior.”
Was my desire for herthatobvious? Somehow, I suspected it might be. Must be. I would have to try harder to be less noticeable. Even so, this line of conversation could easily tread into dangerous waters, so I answered carefully, if not truthfully, to a degree.
“She is a bonnie lass,” I conceded, shaking my head. “But as you know, I dinnae favor the Norse any more than you, where Father has always been partial to those in this area with long-established roots. So, ‘tis not so shocking he might wish to marry one, especially if she can help keep the peace in these parts and mayhap forge a bridge betwixt the local Norse and our fellow countrymen.”
“’Tis sound reasoning,” Gustav granted. “However awkward it might prove for you.” He sipped his whisky andshrugged. “Though I cannae help but wonder if your father is the best choice, given his age and standing these days with the king.”
“What of his standing?” Frowning, I wondered where he was going with this. “’Tis clearly bloody good.”
“Aye, as a father figure who doesnae ride by the king’s side anymore nor battle,” he reminded, a smug edge to his voice if I were not mistaken. “And we both know Alexander would likely rather have such a potentially valuable asset, such as Earl Bjorn Helvig’s daughter, married to a Scotsman closer to his inner circle.”
“And I imagine that would be you,” I assumed dryly, wondering where the friend I’d known years ago had gone because he wasn’t this opportunist before me now, willing to do anything to position himself well with the king. Yet I knew it was not just that.
He wanted Astrid, too.
Just as much as I did based on the way he’d watched her tonight.
“’Twouldbe me,” Gustav confessed without shame, disregarding Astrid’s betrothal to my father. “And I hope the king sees that after our travels. That he understands the MacGreggor clan is the better choice to harness new ties with Norwegian nobility for many generations to come.”
“And why would that be again, given your dislike of the Norse?” I answered back, not missing the slight narrowing of his eyes as he looked at me. The challenge he had laid, because he meant to take her from Father. Fromme. Meant to steal away someone who meant far too much to us.
“What do you mean, my dislike of the Norse?” he asked innocently, a sly predatory look in his gaze now. “I fear you are mistaken, friend.” Shaking his head, the corners of his mouth jerked up ever-so-slightly. “Whilst I dinnae like those determined to raid us and take territory that no longerbelongs to them, I have become unbearably fond of their lasses. Especially those of untouchable beauty who could bear memanywee bairns.”
It took everything in me not to slice my dagger across his throat then and there, might he never lay a finger on her, but instead I rallied my emotions and did my best to keep a cool head. I had to for Father’s sake. My clan’s sake.
Most of all, though, for Astrid.
If I cut Gustav down now, the king would label me a traitor, and God knows what would become of her. Nothing good, I imagined.
