An Outsider at the Highland Court: A Secret Lovers Highland Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 14) by Celeste Barclay

Author:Celeste Barclay [Barclay, Celeste]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Oliver Heber Books
Published: 2021-09-06T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Catherine listened as rain pounded the stone walls around her chamber’s window. As she lay in bed, she considered what excuse she could devise to go outside when anyone with sense would tuck themselves away with a peat fire burning in the hearth. She tried to come up with a reason to visit Timber in the stables, or why she might need to go to the gardens, or even why she needed a desperate trip into town. But she drew a blank on something believable.

As she left morning Mass, one of her guards greeted her in the passageway, soaked but smiling.

“Óg’s been spotted. He’ll be in the bailey in five minutes, ma lady,” the seasoned warrior informed her. Catherine’s smile was genuine, but it was from excitement not to see her cousin but for a way to justify going outside. She followed the guard to the door, but he blocked her. “Ye’ll get drenched, ma lady.”

“I ken, but I must speak to Óg before anyone else can overhear us,” Catherine reasoned. Her mulish chin warned the guard who’d known Catherine her entire life that she would be notoriously stubborn. He shook his head but stepped aside as he opened the door. Catherine flew down the steps into the bailey and sloshed her way to where Óg dismounted.

“Catherine, have ye lost that little sense I said God gave ye? Get back inside,” Andrew barked. Fatigue and discomfort left him sounding like the disgruntled Highlander he was.

“I’m happy to see you too, Cousin.” Catherine grasped Andrew’s hand and pulled him toward the gardens. When he balked, she pushed back the hair plastered to her cheek. “It’s the only place no one will overhear us. I need to ken.”

Andrew’s scowl deepened, but he nodded. “Ye ken this can wait, but I can tell ye willna. I want a hot bath, a tot of whisky, and some food. But vera well, have it yer way.”

Catherine stretched to kiss her cousin’s bristly beard and playfully tugged a few hairs. “It’s even longer. I can think of someone who might like you to trim it before you see her.”

“Catherine,” Andrew warned.

“You tell me to be more discreet. You ought to listen to your own preaching. Now tell.”

The cousins entered the garden, and Andrew unpinned the extra length of his plaid before wrapping it around Catherine’s shoulders. It was awkward to talk, standing side-by-side, but it allowed him to cover her head too. But it mattered little since she was soaked and already shivering.

“When ye fall ill, I shall tell ye I told ye so.”

Catherine secretly prayed that’s exactly what he would do when she pretended to have the ague. She nodded and attempted a guilty smile. Andrew narrowed his eyes but answered her demand.

“Father isn’t interested in the MacDonald of Keppoch. He’d rather nae get into bed—have ye get into bed—with them. He doesnae trust the mon.”

“Good. What aboot the Keith?”

Andrew paused and swallowed. Catherine’s eyes widened as she vigorously shook her head.

“He hasnae decided, but he’s considering the mon.

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