The Chief (Highland Guard #1)(75)

She came to a jolting stop. If so, he appeared to be leaving, freshly bathed and dressed in a clean leine that she’d mended only yesterday.

Her heart sank like a rock, realizing he’d come back the night before and not even told her.

And he meant to leave again without saying good-bye.

Her eyes blurred, not just with hurt, but also with outrage. Past caring, she was going to march over there and demand an explanation when the gorgeous blond Amazon put a hand on his arm.

Tor covered it with his. It wasn’t the touch but the look he gave her that ripped through Christina’s heart like a jagged knife. Tender. Kind. The meager sign of affection she’d sought for weeks dispensed so effortlessly to another.

God, it hurt! Her chest burned so badly it was difficult to breathe.

She watched him leave, standing there like a witless, stunned fool. Thus she didn’t miss the look of longing in Lady Janet’s gaze as she watched him go. Longing that matched her own. The twinge of empathy was hardly welcome under the circumstances. If there had been any doubt, there was no longer: The relationship was not over—at least not for one of them.

No longer hungry, Christina stepped back, intending to return to her room. Running away. Nay. She stopped, taking a moment to compose herself. She would not tuck her tail between her legs and run. Not this time. Not to let another woman have her husband. She knew the passion they felt for each other, and even if that was all he intended to give her, she wouldn’t relinquish him without a fight.

What does she have that I don’t?

Squaring her shoulders for battle, Christina marched into the Hall and took her seat at the head of the table. Plastering a charming smile on her face, she played the gracious lady of the castle, never giving any hint that inside, her heart had been ripped to pieces.

She was aware of the other woman the entire meal, but Lady Janet seemed to not even know she existed. When Christina noticed her rising to leave, she made her move. The flash of jealousy in the other woman’s eye as she approached did much to restore Christina’s flagging confidence. They understood each other.

“Lady Janet.” The other woman gave the obligatory curtsy. “May I have a moment?”

“Of course, my lady.” Her deferential tone didn’t hide the fact that she would clearly rather not.

Christina took a deep breath and met her gaze full force. “With the Yule celebration approaching in a few weeks, I was thinking about hanging the boughs this afternoon. I know you’ve been here for many years and hoped that you might be able to help with the placement. My husband values your friendship, and I should like for us to know each other better.”

Christina had decided to slay her foe with kindness. It would be much harder for Lady Janet to continue a relationship with her husband if they were friends, wouldn’t it?

It worked. Lady Janet appeared taken aback; the friendly offer had obviously confused her. Her beautiful blue eyes shifted away uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, my lady. I can’t. Not today. There is a matter I must attend to.”

Christina clasped her hands together until her knuckles turned white. Her pride was taking a vicious beating, but she forced herself to stay calm. “Does this matter involve my husband?”

If such a question had been put to Christina, her cheeks would have flooded with color. Lady Janet’s perfectly pale and serene expression, however, betrayed absolutely nothing. She stared at Christina for a long moment, until an embarrassing flush rose to her own cheeks.

“You’re very young,” Lady Janet said, as if just realizing it herself.

Humiliated, Christina felt every year of age difference between them in the other woman’s quiet confidence. What did Lady Janet have that she didn’t? Experience and maturity with which Christina could never hope to compete.

Christina didn’t think she could feel any worse. But she was wrong.

Lady Janet’s expression changed. It was clear that she understood the hurt that lay behind Christina’s question. “Tor”—she stopped herself—”The ri tuath has many responsibilities that demand his attention.”

And Lady Janet knew what they were. Misery rose inside Christina. Tor had confided in his leman but not in his wife.

Lady Janet seemed to weigh her words carefully. “We all help when we can. There is nothing for you to worry about.”

Could this get any more humiliating? Now her husband’s erstwhile mistress was feeling sorry for her.

Mustering what pride she could, Christina forced a carefree smile to her face. If it shook, the other woman was kind enough to pretend not to notice. “Perhaps another time.”

Lady Janet nodded and turned away. Christina watched her go, doing her best not to burst into tears.

Tor lifted his sword above his head and brought it crashing down on his opponent’s thick skull.

MacSorley—Devil take him!—merely grinned. “Careful, captain,” he tisked, “or I might think you really mean to take my head off with that thing.”

Not his head, but that damned knowing smirk. Tor clenched his jaw and swung again. It was a brutal, all-out attack, one that not many men could repel. The hulking Norseman might not know when to shut his mouth, but he did know how to handle a sword. All the men were superior swordsmen; at this level only the slightest variations in skill made the difference between victory and defeat.

MacSorley blocked the blow, though he needed both hands to do so. The clash of steel reverberated through the dull, wintry air. Tor pressed down on his sword until only inches separated their faces. “Had enough?”