Too Scot to Hold (The Hots for Scots #8) - Caroline Lee Page 0,1
to the heavy artillery Kat had discussed in her last letter. “Lady Agatha has asked after ye.”
Her grandfather jerked hard in the chair, hard enough the braid in her hand tugged at his scalp, and he cursed and settled back down quickly. He cleared his throat. “She did, did she?”
“Aye, she’s doing well. Katlyn says she’s hale and hearty and is contemplating settling down in her golden years.”
The woman was Kat’s husband’s great-aunt, which made her of an age with Grandda, and the two of them had hit it off like—well, like two randy old people who’d been too long alone.
Sometimes, Davina still remembered their immature giggling as they snuggled together, and she shuddered at the memories.
But if it helped her get what she wanted…
“And who exactly is Agatha considering settling down with?” Grandda finally grumbled.
Pretending nonchalance, Davina deftly plaited a length of wool into his white hair. “Oh, Kat dinnae say. But since ye havenae been back for a visit since last year…”
She left the sentence to hang, as she herself had been hanging, waiting for his permission to go to Oliphant Castle. She’d do it without his permission if she had to, but it would be easier if he would just agree. And if it meant bringing him along too, using visiting Agatha as an excuse, then she would accept it.
“I cannae believe she’d take up with someone else, no’ at her age,” he muttered.
“If ye were there, she wouldnae. Ye ken she was taken with ye, Grandda.”
“She loves me, or so she said.”
Well, that was news.
“And ye? Ye’ve stayed away, so…?”
He grumbled a bit. “I suppose I love her as well as I loved any other woman. And ye ken why we’ve stayed away, lassie. Because of that bastard—”
“He isnae there,” she blurted, then winced, knowing she shouldn’t have admitted to knowing who Grandda was talking about. “I mean, Katlyn hasn’t written of her brother-in-law visiting. He must no’ have stayed at Oliphant Castle.”
Grandda hummed. “Must’ve gone back to St. Andrews. Kat doesnae say?”
“Nay,” Davina murmured, grateful her grandfather couldn’t see the tears she was frantically blinking away as she tried to focus on the strands in her fingers.
Nay, Kat didn’t say where Graham was, and Vina didn’t know either, for certes.
Because not once in the last six months, not once after all they’d shared, had the man written to her.
Six months, and not one word.
She’d put off other marriage contracts, using the uncertainty of her sister’s husband’s future as an excuse. Aye, the MacKinnons needed an heir, and the laird’s grandson-by-marriage was a good choice. And if one of Katlyn’s sisters-in-law birthed a son first, then Kiergan would be free to become their next MacKinnon laird, and Davina would be free to marry whomever she chose.
So she’d avoided Grandda’s attempts to introduce her to suitors and sign betrothals, all because she was waiting on one man: Graham MacVanish, who was recently discovered to be an Oliphant bastard and Kiergan’s brother.
Graham, who hadn’t contacted her, despite his vow to never forget her.
Graham, who hadn’t written to her once, who hadn’t sent word through Kat, who appeared to have forgotten all about her.
If she didn’t love him so much, she would hate him.
Finally, after enough time had passed she assumed Grandda had fallen asleep, the old man muttered, “No’ at Oliphant Castle, eh? Then I suppose there’s nae harm in going.”
Davina sucked in a hopeful breath, determined to drag the conversation away from Graham and remind Grandda of the reasons he wanted to visit the Oliphants. “Lady Agatha must miss ye terribly.”
“And I— Well, sometimes a man just needs a willing lass in his bed to warm his bones. Or one bone in particular.” He released a raspy chuckle.
Blessed Virgin, please wipe that image from my mind, and I’ll say a dozen Hail Marys to ye.
Quickly, she reached for the last of the braids and tried to keep her voice light. “Shall I write to Kat and tell her we’ll be there in time for her confinement? I cannae wait to hug her again.”
Grandda grumbled, shifted, then sighed. “Aye, fine, alert the lassie. When ye’re finished here, go start packing my best kilts, aye? I have to look fine for my Aggie.”
Her heart speeding with excitement, Davina’s fingers flashed. “Aye, and then I’ll pack my own things. When will we leave?”
As she finished up, the two of them chatted about their traveling plans, and Vina fought to keep her fingers and her voice steady. She was going to