She carried it out to the mews, her heart pounding like a drum as she negotiated the corridor. She could hear idle masculine conversation and occasional laughter coming from the great chamber. When she reached it, she paused in the doorway, her gaze immediately seeking Raith. Surprisingly, he was staring down at the table, not participating in the general discussion. In contrast, the other men who were gathered around the table seemed rather pleased with themselves.
Callum was the first to look up, the first to acknowledge her presence. “Ah, Katie! Come in. I’ve missed you, my bonny roy lass.”
Raith’s head snapped up, his blue eyes narrowing at her, but Katrine was careful to keep her gaze on Callum. It surprised her that she was actually glad to see the charming scoundrel. And Lachlan, too. Even Hector. How remarkable that she had met them scarcely a month ago! But they were an integral part of her life now, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. It was only appropriate that they would be her witnesses, Katrine thought with a fierce effort to quell her racing heartbeat.
Summoning her courage, she stepped into the room. “I confess I’ve missed you, too,” Katrine said sweetly to Callum, setting down the heavy tray next to him. “Did you have a successful journey?”
Callum sent a mischievous glance toward his cousin at the other end of the table. “Aye, indeed. You’ll be interested to know that the MacLeans have finally presented their demands to your uncle, including the conditions of your release.”
Katrine froze in the act of filling a tankard, her cheeks growing pale. Was Raith so anxious to be rid of her that he would risk his kinsmen’s fate with a precipitate action? Or did he truly think the time was ripe to proceed with the next offensive in the conflict?
Her gaze flew to him. He had fixed her with a brooding stare that gave little clue as to what he was thinking—except that he obviously had not changed his mind about not letting her share his future. “You didn’t tell him you were responsible for my abduction, did you?”
“I’m not a fool, Miss Campbell.”
His sardonic reply didn’t allay her fears. Even though Raith had made his demands anonymously, as she’d expected he would, Argyll had to know the MacLeans were the ones behind her abduction. “But as soon as you release me, the duke will know who you are. What is to prevent him from having you arrested then?”
Callum broke in gently. “One of the conditions is Argyll’s word that he won’t pursue prosecution.”
“And the other conditions?” she murmured, her voice weak.
“Argyll has to return the feu-duties for the MacLeans of Duart to their previous levels and agree to leave them there for a period of five years. If he does that, and agrees not to visit retribution on our clan, then you’ll be free.”
Carefully, Katrine set down the pitcher, grateful that it hadn’t fallen from her trembling hands. Thinking about what Callum had said, she shook her head. “I’m pleased you’ve finally broken the impasse, but as to the question of my release…you should know I’ve had a change of heart. I don’t want to be returned to my uncle. I want to remain here, with you all. You see…” She hesitated, taking a deep breath. “I am claiming Raith MacLean, Laird of Ardgour, as my lawful husband.”
Chapter Fourteen
The silence was sudden and complete. And then the import of her announcement seemed to sink in and everyone began talking at once.
“Husband!”
“Why didna ye tell us, Raith?”
“To a Campbell!”
Beside her, Callum emitted a slow chuckle. “By God, you have the nerve of a MacLean, Katie,” he complimented, giving her an appreciative grin.
Katrine paid little attention to the clamor, for her nerves were focused on Raith. She watched him solely, her heartbeat thundering in her ears as she waited to see what he would do. She had declared him to be her husband in front of witnesses. If he failed to deny the claim, that made their marriage a fact according to Scottish law.
At the far end of the table Raith rose slowly to his feet, his face turned to granite, his blue eyes impaling her. “What,” he said softly, “in the name of Lucifer, do you think you’re doing?”
Another quiet descended, this one tense and uncertain. Katrine stared at him, not even daring to breathe.
In truth, she wasn’t quite sure what she was doing. She had wanted to bring matters to a head, for one thing, and she’d had some thought of forcing the issue of their relationship. Raith hadn’t listened to her pleading the other day, hadn’t believed her when she’d said she loved him. If she made a public declaration, he might realize she was serious about wanting to remain here with him. At least it would require him to consider the possibility of a marriage between them. And there was always a chance he might actually come to his senses and see that she would make him a good wife.
She had chosen a moment when his clan was present so Raith couldn’t dismiss her. Besides, there was safety in numbers, so he couldn’t murder her—which, at the moment, he looked as if he would like to do.
But she couldn’t make such a lengthy, confused confession before all these MacLean men.
When she didn’t answer, Callum defied the tense atmosphere and his cousin’s wrath and grinned at Raith. “May I offer my felicitations, cousin? You’re a lucky dog. Katie will make you a fine wife, that’s for certain.”
A black look from Raith penetrated even Callum’s sangfroid. “We—are—not—married.” He said it slowly, clearly, enunciating every word with a savageness that made Katrine’s heart sink.
Callum cocked an eyebrow. “What seems to be the problem? You know the law…the parties have only to declare mutual consent before witnesses—”
“There is no mutual consent!” Raith turned his fierce gaze on Katrine again. “I’d as soon wed with a wildcat.”
His eyes fairly smoldered with hostility. Katrine was glad she wasn’t alone with him, for she knew her life would be at risk otherwise. Reflexively she edged closer to Callum.