who know men—that I see similar signs in your Sir Finlagh. His eyes narrow in the same way, and his jaw tightens so much that wee muscles jump in his cheeks. If ye would be happy, tread softly when ye see those signs.”
Catriona smiled and nodded but decided that in the next hour or so, it would be Fin, rather than she, who ought to be watching for signs of temper.
Tadhg interrupted them by extending a platter of thinly sliced beef to Catriona. She nearly reminded him that he should serve her grandmother first before she remembered that, as the bride, she was the ranking lady of the day.
Applying herself to her breakfast, she hoped that Fin would talk to her and not just try to assuage her displeasure so she would couple with him. She soon realized, with some indignation, that he was not paying her any heed.
A brief glance, however, provided an explanation for his neglect.
Rothesay, on his other side, was holding forth about something. After his recent behavior, she suspected that he was trying to make more mischief.
Someone, she decided, should have thoroughly acquainted Davy Stewart with a good stiff leather tawse during his childhood, to teach him better manners.
No sooner had she nodded to a gillie that he could clear her place than her grandfather stood and raised a goblet. “We’ll be drinking to the bride and groom now, if ye please. They’ll want to be getting on with the grandest duty of marriage.”
Delighted laughter greeted his announcement. Goblets were filled and raised and the toasting soon over—too soon to suit Catriona. Worse, she had drunk some wine with each toast and could tell that she had had more than she should.
“Come now, into the inner chamber with ye,” the Mackintosh said, putting one hand on Fin’s shoulder and the other on Catriona’s. “Ye can take the service stair up to your bedchamber from there, so ye’ll have nae need to pass this way again. Our lads be already taking your things across the loch and loading the ponies. So everyone can go straight outside to see ye off after ye’ve dressed.”
As Catriona followed him into the inner chamber, she could feel Fin’s presence beside her as if he were touching her. Still irritated, she wondered what he was thinking and decided that he’d better be kicking himself for not being more forthcoming about his close connection to Tor Castle.
Wondering what the Mackintosh wanted with them, Fin followed Catriona, enjoying the enticing sway of her hips as she passed her grandfather into the chamber but trying to measure, too, just how upset she was.
Inside, Mackintosh shut the door and crossed to his table, from which he took a foolscap document. An inkpot and a sharpened quill lay nearby.
Turning to Fin, he said, “I’ll not take long with this, lad, for I ken fine that ye’re impatient to claim your bride. Also, we both know that James and Morag be champing at their bits to be off the island and away.”
“James promised to wait, sir,” Fin said.
“Aye, sure. Now this be the charter for Raitt Castle. I have signed it over to ye for your lifetime as a wedding gift. I’d be fain to see it go next to your heir, but I ken fine that ye’ll never change your name to Mackintosh, nor should ye. Not after nearly giving your life for Clan Cameron.”
“You are right, sir,” Fin said.
“Mayhap, though, if ye’ll choose to live much of each year at Raitt and one of your sons would agree to take the name, Shaw can arrange for it to pass to him. Sithee, he agrees to the notion. If aught happens to ye afore ye have a son, Raitt will revert to Catriona unless she remarries to an outlander. Agreed?”
Fin did not hesitate. “You do me great honor, my lord. I will agree, aye.”
“Good, then. Sign right there at the bottom,” the Mackintosh said, dipping the quill and handing it to him. “Nae one has lived there for a time, but ’tis a sturdy place and can soon be made comfortable for a family.”
Fin signed, received yet another goblet of whisky, and drank with his new kinsman to their agreement. Catriona stood nearby, and other than hugging her grandfather and thanking him, she remained silent.
“The door’s yonder, lad,” Mackintosh said. “Ye’ve nae reason now to tarry.”
Putting a hand to Catriona’s elbow, Fin urged her toward the door and ahead of him up the narrow stairway. He was