Highland Hellion (Highland Weddings #3)(40)

*

There was a rap on her chamber door. Katherine turned and watched Rolfe enter. She cursed the way her heart leaped in response and then regretted her fickle emotions. There would be plenty of time to be unhappy in the future. Best not to impose such things upon herself.

“I’ve business for ye to attend to, lass,” Rolfe said softly.

There were men with him. They came through the door and tugged on the corner of their bonnets as they crossed into the room. One of them placed a writing desk on the table, lifting its lid and withdrawing a sheet of paper. He placed it on the top of the desk and withdrew the waxed rope stopper used to keep the ink in the small pottery jar.

“Ye remember Duncan Lindsey?”

Katherine nodded. The man offered her a grin that was as devilish as the color of his hair. There was a gleam in his eyes that set her on edge, because Rolfe’s jaw was set and his expression guarded.

“Yes.”

She started to venture closer to the page, intending to read it. Rolfe stepped into her path. “I am no’ taking ye to Morton.”

To say she was surprised was an understatement. Katherine absorbed his words as she looked again at Duncan. The man was enjoying the moment far too much for her comfort.

“So just where are you planning on taking me?”

“To church,” Rolfe replied. He tapped the page of paper behind him. “I’ve had a contract drawn up.”

“And I’m here to witness ye signing it,” Duncan added.

They appeared to be well pleased with themselves. A tingle touched her nape as Katherine debated asking Rolfe what he meant. She stepped closer to the table to see what sort of contract he had brought with him.

“Are you insane?” she demanded. “A contract of marriage?”

Duncan Lindsey was choking on his amusement, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his shirtsleeves over his upper arms. “Might be, at that. He just might.”

She tore her attention from the contract to glare at him briefly before looking back at the desk. It was there, in bold, black ink. Rolfe William Brian McTavish and her own name, clearly noted as the parties entering into holy wedlock.

“It’s the perfect solution,” Rolfe said, trying to soothe her.

“Perfect?” She looked up to find him watching her intently. “Perfect until you take me home to your father as his daughter-in-law. I doubt he’d consider your actions very favorably.”

A gleam appeared in Rolfe’s eyes that drove home just why he was as arrogant as he was. The man had more daring than was healthy for a single soul. Of course, she’d come to realize that more than one Highlander suffered from that same affliction.

“Me father will appreciate me cunning” was his confident response.

Katherine settled her hands on her hips and scoffed at him. “Right before he has me smothered.”

“Ah…she’s met yer father, I see.” Duncan was doing a poor job of containing his snickers.

“There is nothing for you to witness. Get out.” She was being overly daring to order the man about in his own tower, but Katherine didn’t really think about her words.

Duncan’s dark eyebrows rose with surprise before he opened his arms wide and lowered himself in a mocking display of courtesy. “One of the fine things about Scotland is, now that he’s offered to make an honest woman of ye, I really do nae need to stay to protect yer reputation.”

“So I’ll sign that contract or face being labeled unpure?”

Duncan nodded without a hint of remorse for the blunt fact that he was trapping her.

Katherine pointed at the door, her temper straining against the hold she had on it. “I don’t much care if your people say I’ve sampled half your men.”

Duncan had started toward the door, but he turned and cocked his head to one side. “And ye did nae think to share any of yer honey with me?”

“Duncan!” Rolfe growled at his friend. “If ye do nae mind, I need to woo me bride.”

Katherine snorted, eliciting another round of snickers from Duncan.

“I’ll tell the surgeon to expect ye shortly.”

Duncan held the door wide for his men and let it swing shut the moment the last of them was past the threshold. He closed the door with a solid sound that shattered Katherine’s anger, letting it fall to the floor like ice, and leaving her to look at Rolfe in pure, unguarded uncertainty.

He was watching her now, determination glittering in his eyes, his jaw set stubbornly.

“I would never allow me father to harm ye, Kat.”

He meant it. Part of her didn’t care to insult him by arguing, but that left her far too aware of the marriage contract sitting on the table near her and the fact that there were only her own arguments to overcome. Ink and quill were at the ready while Rolfe McTavish stood waiting for her to accept his suit. It both astonished and confounded her. No one had ever wanted her, not merely for herself. The contract was only a single page long, because no one was promising him anything.

Did she dare?

Christ, wasn’t Fate done toying with her?

“You don’t question your father,” she began, trying to find some patience. No one chose their parents, after all, and the scriptures bound all children to obey their parents.

“Which can lose its shine when I fail to consider what my father is ordering done,” Rolfe explained. “Ye reminded me the other night of just how important it is for me to question him from time to time.”