Highland Master - By Amanda Scott Page 0,40

So I’d wager that the duke’s coming here is a result of that talk your Lion had with Granddad.”

“No more now,” Ivor muttered hastily as James approached them.

“Art telling secrets, my bairns?” the older of Catriona’s two brothers said. “Only think what our grandame will say if she catches you. Manners, manners! Who the devil is that fellow who carried Rothesay off so swiftly, Cat? Morag tells me that he has been taking liberties with you. Have you an interest there, lassie?”

“I was just asking her about that,” Ivor said, giving her a warning look.

“And, as I was telling you,” Catriona said sweetly, “I know that men call him ‘Fin of the Battles.’ But Granddad made him admit that he is Sir Finlagh, and our grandame did learn that he is a MacGill. He told us that he lived in Lochaber as a child and then in eastern Fife. Also, he came to Rothiemurchus from the Borders.”

“I have heard of ‘Fin of the Battles,’ ” James said with increased respect. “They say he is one of the finest swordsmen in Scotland and a fine archer as well. I did not know that he was Rothesay’s man, though. He lived for a time in eastern Fife, you say?” James added, shifting his gaze from Catriona to Ivor.

Ivor met that shrewd look unblinkingly. But although Catriona’s ever-ready curiosity stirred, she devoutly hoped James would not quiz her more about Fin and therefore did not urge him to tell her why Fin’s time in Fife seemed so important.

Something unusual was going on, and although she believed that Fin could defend himself, she did not want to make things more difficult for him by trying to explain him to her brothers. If she tried, she would inevitably land herself or Fin, or both of them and perhaps Ivor, too, in the suds.

When the two groups met on the dais, the Mackintosh presented his ladies and Morag to Rothesay, who nodded with a smile and a pleasant word to each of the older women. Then, greeting Catriona, he grinned, and she saw why others called him charming. He had an attractive air about him, but he was not as tall as Fin or as broad across the shoulders. His eyes twinkled but were an ordinary blue.

“I can see that my visit will be most enjoyable,” he said, still smiling as he aided her to rise from her curtsy. Without releasing her hand or shifting his warm gaze from hers, he added, “I thank you all for your hospitality.”

Feeling her grandmother’s prodding fingers at her waist, Catriona gently withdrew her hand and turned obediently to take her place at the high table.

As she stood beside Morag, she heard the Mackintosh invite Rothesay to take the central chair, reserving the seat at the prince’s right for himself. Next, he directed Shaw to the seat at Rothesay’s left, adding glibly that the ladies would not mind sitting one seat farther down than usual to make room.

“Sithee, there be only the four of ye,” he said to his lady wife, “whilst we have more than a few extra men. Moreover, we men want to talk.” Then, as if clinching the matter, he added, “Also, it be Shaw’s right as much as me own to sit alongside of his royal guest. Rothiemurchus does belong to Shaw, after all.”

Rothesay bowed to Lady Annis and said with his twinkling smile, “I will say, your ladyship, that under any other circumstance I would strongly object to being deprived of your charming presence beside me. You and I must talk later.”

With a wry smile of her own, she said, “I look forward to that, my lord.”

As Catriona moved to allow for the change, she wondered if her father’s return would put an end to her walks with Fin. She enjoyed them, and the sudden awareness that Shaw might henceforth forbid them made her realize just how much she did.

When the gillies began presenting platters of food, Ealga leaned closer to Lady Annis. Nevertheless, Catriona heard her clearly when she said, “Do you think that young man always speaks to ladies in so familiar a manner?”

“I do,” Lady Annis said, looking past her at Morag and Catriona. “I expect that you two heard that, did you not?”

“Aye, madam,” Catriona said.

“I’ve noted that ye have quick ears, lass,” her grandmother said. “I trust ye’ll have the sense not to grow as friendly with Rothesay as ye have with Sir Finlagh.”

“She must not be rude to Rothesay,

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