Highland Warrior (Campbell Trilogy #1)(85)
Princess. Odd that the old nickname had come back to him. He wondered why. Frowning, he realized it wasn’t because she’d purchased the new gowns as she’d promised. His injury and subsequent orders to keep her confined to the castle had prevented that, but now that he was back he would see it rectified right away.
Nay, it was something else. A subtle difference that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
He recalled her sudden appearance and how his relief at seeing her had turned to suspicion. He could have sworn he’d smelled the wind in her hair and felt the chill of the cold on her ruddy cheeks. And then there was the fresh mud he’d noticed on her skirts. He was almost positive that she’d come from outside and not the kitchens. But she’d seemed sincere in her explanation. Perhaps he’d been mistaken.
Her passion and happiness to see him had certainly been genuine.
That was the difference: She seemed happy. The shadow of grief that had followed her since the death of her family had lifted. Though he would like to take credit for the transformation, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was another reason.
He opened the door to the solar and strode in, seeing Will, the captain of his guardsmen, and a handful of his other men who’d stayed behind waiting for him.
They stood as he entered. “My laird,” Will said, coming forward. “ ’Tis good to see your safe return.”
Jamie motioned for the men to sit and took his place at the head of the table. “You received my missive?” He had sent word of the MacGregor’s death with instructions for his men to increase their vigilance—but to make no mention to the Lamonts.
Will nodded. “Yes, my laird. We’ve increased our scouting around the area, but there has been no sign of anything unusual or of any outlaws.”
“And has word of the MacGregor’s death spread?”
The guardsman shook his head. “Not from what we can tell, though the Lamonts have not been eager to take us in their confidence. Conversation tends to come to a sudden stop when we draw near.”
Hardly surprising, given the tensions between the clans. Still, though communication was poor on the Western Isles and it could take many days for news to travel to Edinburgh, Jamie was surprised that word of the MacGregor’s death had yet to reach them.
“Have you noticed any signs of unease or discord?”
“No more than usual.”
The discussion turned to the status of the repairs on Ascog before returning to the Lamonts.
“You’ve kept a close eye on Seamus and his men?” Jamie asked.
“Aye,” Will replied. “He’s been remarkably quiet.”
Jamie frowned, not liking the sound of that. Snakes were most dangerous when you couldn’t hear them.
“He spends most of his day at Ascog, working on the roof,” Will continued. “Including taking over much of the tree felling for himself.”
Jamie’s gaze narrowed. “In the forest?”
Will nodded. “We had the same concern, but he’s been followed and nothing ever appears out of the ordinary. He’s never absent longer than a few hours.”
“I see.”
“Did I misunderstand your instructions? The Lamont’s former guardsmen are not prisoners?”
Jamie shook his head. “No, they are not prisoners. They can come and go as they please—as long as they are watched.”
But he had the niggling suspicion that the old man was up to something, and he meant to find out what.
Chapter 19
Caitrina held her breath as the last beam was lifted in place. The work on Ascog Castle had progressed well while Jamie was away and she was banned from its halls. In the two days since his return, even greater strides had been made. The roof was not yet weather-tight, but if all went well, it would be soon.
The heavy rainstorms on the mainland had lightened as they crossed the Kyl to Bute, bringing a dense, foggy mist and drizzle, but thankfully not enough to curtail the work.
Mindful of their agreement, Caitrina was careful to stay out of the way as the men worked, unwilling to test the limits of her husband’s temperance. He wasn’t pleased to see her around Ascog, she knew, but as she kept away from the danger by staying mostly in the kitchens and supervising rather than joining in the maidservants’ work, there was little he could object to. Too many decisions required her attention, from what pots and dishes could be salvaged, to what furniture to purchase and what could be made, to where to build the new storage cabinets.
She’d come upstairs to the great hall to speak with Seamus about the rebuilding of the worktables and shelves for the cellars and had lingered to watch the momentous placement of the final beam. When it was secured, a great cheer went up around the hall and she joined in with enthusiasm.
Automatically, she scanned the room for Jamie, her heart catching as it always did when she caught sight of him. With his height and size, it was easy to pick him out among the other men, but it was the relaxed grin and twinkle in his blue gaze that made her pulse leap.
Feeling her eyes upon him, he turned, and their gazes collided. A moment of connection and shared accomplishment passed between them. She grinned back at him, feeling lighter, savoring the moment—until one of his guardsmen asked him a question and his attention was drawn away.
She sighed, regretting the loss. For an instant, it had felt as it had in those precious few days before he left. Though it was nothing that she could put her finger on, something had changed since he’d returned from Dunoon. On the surface, everything was as it had been before: At night he held her in his arms and made love to her with all the passion she remembered, and during the day he was more solicitous and attentive than she could recall.