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“Thank you,” Fergus replied. “You did not upset me, but you must not come here again, Grace, for both our sakes. It’s not appropriate.”
Now, Grace felt anger adding to the hurt. “Not appropriate?” she said scornfully. “I’m so sorry, Fergus. Was it not appropriate that I was concerned for you? I will leave now before I get you into trouble.” She turned and walked out, closing the door none too gently behind her.
* * *
Fergus stared at the door as it shuddered on its hinges, then threw himself on his bed. He had lied to Grace. His arm was throbbing with pain, and he felt like weeping because he knew that he had hurt her very badly, and he had no idea if she would ever forgive him.
At last, he stood up and went to the window. It was going to be a bright and warm day, a rare occurrence in the Highlands, and he knew that he should go and mingle with his guests, but somehow he did not have the heart to do so.
It would be cowardly of him to hide, he knew it, but he simply could not bear to see Grace and Robert together. And yet, he knew he would have to become accustomed to it because Grace would still have to do what was best for her family, and if that meant marrying his brother, then so be it.
By contrast, Robert would do what was best for Robert, and if that happened to coincide with what was best for the family, then well and good. If not, they would find themselves in the kind of predicament they were in now.
Fergus sighed irritably. His brother had some admirable traits, and he loved him, but sometimes he could not understand why.
* * *
Grace was not in the mood for mingling with people she barely knew, and decided to retire to her room to rest and soothe the headache that was beginning to throb behind her eyes.
There, she found Crissy, who was mending the hem of one of her own dresses. She looked up and frowned as she saw Grace rubbing her forehead. “All right, hen?” she asked.
“Fine, Crissy,” she replied, smiling faintly. “I have a headache coming on, that’s all.”
“I will get ye some willow bark tea,” Crissy said at once, in her usual brisk way. “Who won the duel?”
“Fergus did, but he hurt his arm.” Grace tried to make her voice sound unconcerned. “It wasn’t serious, but it looked painful.”
Crissy rang for a maidservant to bring the tea, and Grace scrunched her face up, shuddering. “That stuff is so awful, I think I might prefer a headache!” she said grimly.
“Somethin’ is wrong,” Crissy remarked as she watched Grace. “You usually like parties an’ suchlike, but ye are definitely not yourself today.”
“Sometimes I think you can read my mind, Crissy,” Grace remarked, smiling. “I have just had a conversation with Fergus, and I think his feelings may not be as cold towards me as I thought they were. I think he may be hiding something.”
She explained what had just happened between Fergus and her, and when she had finished, Crissy shook her head. “Men!” she growled. “They are never happy unless they’re fightin’ or messin’ about wi’ women’s affections.”
Grace sighed. She had to agree.
6
Five days earlier…
“Damn!” Fergus was eating his breakfast when the summons from his brother came. He had been out training with the guards and had worked up a good appetite, so he was not going to abandon his substantial meal just to please Robert. He knew if he did that, by the time he came back, his food would be cold and inedible.
“Tell him to wait,” he growled to the maidservant, before applying himself to his porridge again. She scurried away, frowning. Nobody liked giving the Laird bad news.
As he finished his porridge and worked his way through the eggs, black pudding, sausages and a pint of warm ale, Fergus dreamt about what was going to happen over the next few days.
Grace was coming to see him; not only that, they were going to be married. He would be able to sleep with her and make love to her. The thought of that made his body thrill and his shaft stiffen.
He pictured Grace’s face in his mind’s eye. It was a long time since they had seen each other, but he remembered her eyes; hazel, flecked with green and fringed with long, golden-brown lashes. He saw again her full lips that just begged to be kissed. He would make sure that this time he would kiss her senseless!
Then there was her smile, her sparkling eyes, her even white teeth, and the cute dimples that appeared on each cheek; he had always wanted to put his fingertips into them and make her giggle. The thought made him giggle.
Then he sighed with annoyance. Three more days! Three more days of impatience and utter frustration, during which he knew that the minutes would tick by as slowly as a snail ascending a wall.
Now he had to deal with Robert, and he was simply not in the right frame of mind to do so. He wiped his hands over his eyes, drank the rest of his ale and stood up, then stretched and squared his shoulders.
‘What now?’He thought irritably. Fergus had never wanted to be Laird, since the notion of ordering other people around did not appeal to him one bit. Now, however, it sounded distinctly appealing, as he contemplated giving his brother commands and watching him jump to attention. He grinned at the thought, then set off to Robert’s study.
