Part 5 (2/2)
”Och now, sir,” Cat said, mimicking Lochlan's Scottish brogue. ”Surely you don't be thinking me a French princess now, do you?” She took a step forward and wrapped her arm around Lochlan's.
”I'm flattered to be sure, but unfortunately there's only me and my husband here.”
The guard frowned. ”But your name is Catarina?”
”Catriona. Similar I suppose to French ears, but not the same.”
He nodded as relief cut across his brow. ”I understand completely. Please forgive my interruption.”
Cat didn't breathe until the man had shut the door and she heard his footsteps recede down the hallway.
Lochlan was still scowling at her. ”Wherever did you get that accent?”
She wrinkled her nose at him. ”Listening to you and your brothers. I tend to pick them up quite easily.”
”You can say that. It sounded there for a moment as if you were born to it and Catriona...brilliant.”
She curtsied to him. ”I try.”
She saw the fire return to his eyes before he excused himself and left her alone in the room to rest. He exited so quickly that she didn't even have time to speak.
His actions would have amused her a lot more had she not felt the same heat around him. There was something about him so unsettling and desirable that it was all she could do not to force him to kiss her.
Don't forget you hate him. He is everything you loathe in a man.
He was also kind to an unknown peasant boy and protective of her. Everyone had faults. He just had more than his share. But that being said, his positive factors went a long way in smoothing over those faults.
Pus.h.i.+ng that thought away, she went to his saddlebags to see if he had anything she might nibble on until their food was ready. She'd escaped her guards earlier and hadn't had a chance to eat a single bite all day. Truthfully, she was famished.
As she reached the windows, her attention was drawn again to the soldiers outside. And as she spied a man she knew, her heart stopped beating.
Myles D'Anjou...
She ran back to the bed, away from the window. Closing her eyes, she whispered a small prayer that he would leave before he caught sight of her. Why was he even here? Why would a n.o.bleman travel with common guards trying to find her?
To win points with her father, of course. Myles's family had angered her father by siding with King Henry over some matter and since then her father had been suspicious of them.
She wanted to curse her luck. Myles had been the first of her father's courtiers to make his intention to court her known. Luckily, her father had rejected his offers. He didn't trust the man and neither did she. Myles would gladly hand her over without a moment's hesitation.
Or worse, he would do something to try and force her father to make her marry him.
How she wished she could tell Lochlan of his presence. But if she knew her Highland lord, he wouldn't speak to the man anyway.
You're worrying for naught.
She hoped that was true. G.o.d help her if Myles met Lochlan and learned of her presence here.
”Excuse me?”
Lochlan paused as he left the shop and saw a man about a head shorter approaching him. ”Can I help you?”
He was a n.o.bleman unless Lochlan missed his guess, but not a wealthy one. Though his boots were a finer grade of leather, they were old and worn. His dark blue tunic and hose also denoted n.o.bility, however, they had a simple trim, not the ornate ones preferred by those with coin. Even his sword was old and in need of repair. ”I'm looking for a woman.”
Lochlan snorted. ”Well then you're out of luck with me, lad. Last I checked, I'm definitely not female.”
The man gave him a less-than-amused stare. ”I heard you came to town with a woman who sounds a lot like the one I've been looking for.”
”I've already had word with another of your men. She's not the one you seek.”
”Really? And I'm just to take your word on that matter?”
”Most people do.”
His gaze dropped to Lochlan's sword, which was encrusted with rubies and emeralds around the hilt. ”Are you n.o.ble?”
”Aye, with blood ties to three thrones.”
That gave the man pause. ”Where are you from, my lord?”
”I think I've answered enough of your questions. My wife waits for me and I've no wish to keep her waiting. I'm sure as a man in search of a woman, you can understand my urgency to get back to her.”
Lochlan stepped past him. From the corner of his eye, he saw the man call another guard to him.
d.a.m.n. This didn't bode well. Grinding his teeth, he swept his gaze to the others who were questioning people and searching places where Catarina might be hiding. He'd fought such odds before, but he'd at least had another sword in hand when he'd done so and he hadn't been dragging a woman along with him. A fight with the king's guard could be b.l.o.o.d.y indeed.
Trying to put that thought out of his mind, he entered the hostel, where a maid was slicing roasted venison. He paused beside her and handed her coin. ”Could you bring two platters and wine to our room?”
Her eyes widened as she saw the amount he'd given her. ”Aye, my lord. I'll be there posthaste.”
He inclined his head to her before he headed up the stairs and into the room where Catarina was waiting in a corner with the window drawn tightly closed.
He'd never seen her so quelled. ”Is something amiss?”
”Aye,” she said in a low tone. ”I do know one of the men below.”
”Let me guess. A short, beady-eyed fellow who wreaks of garlic and sweat?”
”Myles D'Anjou. I take it you met the swine.”
He nodded. ”He cornered me on the street.”
”What did you tell him?” she asked in a fearful tone.
”Absolutely nothing. Think you he'll listen?”
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