Cassian (The Immortal Highland Centurions #2) - Jayne Castel Page 0,52
was too polite to say such a thing outright. Indeed, there were few men in his position who could read. Soldiers didn’t usually need such a skill.
“Of what?”
“The Histories of the Clans.”
She inclined her head. “And such things interest ye?”
Cassian smiled. “History is a passion of mine,” he replied.
Curiosity gleamed in her blue eyes before her expression tensed and her brow furrowed. For the first time since he’d come to live at Dunnottar, Lady Gavina De Keith looked at Cassian as if she disliked him.
“I apologize, My Lady,” he said quietly, motioning to the volume upon the table. “If this offends you, I shall put the book away.”
Her lips compressed. “No, that doesn’t offend me.”
Cassian stiffened at her tone. Pretending he hadn’t noticed her frosty attitude, his gaze flicked to the small leather-bound book she carried. “I see that you too like to read?”
“Aye,” she admitted, her gaze still guarded. “Although my preference lies more in folk tales and legends. I’ve just finished this book of short tales, among them is ‘The Doomed Rider’. Do ye know it?”
Cassian nodded. He’d heard the tale about a Kelpie’s dark prophecy. “It’s one of my favorites.”
Gavina’s frown deepened. “Ye are a true enigma, Cassian Gaius,” she murmured. “A Spaniard who has made Scotland his home … risen swiftly to the rank of captain in Dunnottar… and with an interest in our history and folk tales.”
“I’ve lived here awhile, My Lady.”
“Aye, but ye keep yer own counsel.” She paused then, her chin lifting. “When ye aren’t breaking hearts.”
Cassian stilled.
Aila has told her. He couldn’t believe she’d been so indiscreet. Did she want to utterly ruin herself?
A nerve ticked in Lady Gavina’s cheek, almost as if she’d read his thoughts. “No, my maid didn’t come complaining to me … but when a woman is so deeply hurt, it’s impossible for her to hide her grief.”
Cassian drew in a slow, deep breath. “It was never my intention to hurt Aila,” he said stiffly. His voice now held a note of warning; this wasn’t a discussion he intended to have with the laird’s wife.
Lady Gavina arched a slender eyebrow. “Really? Ye didn’t think that by swiving and then spurning her, ye’d not wound her?”
Coldness swept over Cassian. “It’s more complicated than that, My Lady … and, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not—”
“Oh, but I do mind.” She took a step toward him, angling her chin higher in order to continue to hold his eye. “It’s bad enough that ye bed my maid under my very nose … but now ye dishonor her. What if her womb quickens?”
Tension coiled within Cassian, his skin prickling. He had to get out of this library and away from this woman’s outrage. “That won’t happen.”
Her mouth pursed. She didn’t want to be indelicate, yet he could see she didn’t believe him.
“Ye are fortunate, Captain, that I am merely the laird’s wife, and not the De Keith himself,” she ground out, her heart-shaped face taut and pale. “For I wouldn’t tolerate a man such as ye to lead my guard.”
XXIII
SAVIOR OF THE REALM
THE LIGHT WAS fading and a chill wind buffeted David De Keith when he walked into the walled garden. Pulse racing, he feigned a relaxed posture, circling the beds of herbs and sweetly scented flowers, before making his way to the center of the space, where the kelpie statue sat at the garden’s heart.
Spots of rain hit his forehead, and the dark clouds hovering to the north warned that the short spell of fine weather they’d been enjoying was about to end.
David continued his circuit around the garden, and all the while, he could feel cold steel pressing against his calf.
He’d hidden a dirk in the back of one of his long hunting boots.
Longshanks had agreed to meet him here.
De Keith slowed his step, passing under a trellis of gillyflowers. He’d been nervous that the king would refuse to meet him alone, for David had insisted that neither of them have an escort of guards.
Not even Comyn was invited to this meeting.
The De Keith laird’s mouth thinned. ‘The Red’ was a traitor in his eyes. He’d knelt too easily to the English. De Keith wasn’t going to do the same.
Instead, he was going to make himself a hero.
David glanced back at the towering walls of the keep.
He hated being here in Stirling. Each meeting with Edward was a kick to the bollocks. His father would turn in his cairn at the thought that one of his sons was about to