“Nay, I mean the Oliphant one.” Auld Gommy sighed. “But our laird is too honorable to take advantage of her, or to let her think they had a chance at a future together.”
“Because….” Robena swallowed. “Because he was betrothed to someone else.”
“Aye, and he’ll marry the lass, even if she’s as bad as her da—“
Pudge interrupted the cook. “Because the King commanded it.”
“Aye,” agreed Weesil, “but also because he’s honorable, and he kens this is the best way to stop the feud. He’ll marry Murray’s daughter for the rest of the MacBains. Once we have the meadow again, we’ll no’ have to worry about feeding our people.”
He’s doing it for his clan.
Her stomach churned at the realization, and she dropped her spoon into her bowl. Kester wasn’t marrying the Murray lass because she was beautiful or elegant…he was marrying her because doing so would mean his clan was safe.
Our laird is too honorable to take advantage of her, or to let her think they had a chance at a future together.
That’s what had happened.
He and his men had stayed at Oliphant Castle for weeks, and she’d done her best to encourage him, to flirt with him. He’d flirted right back, but until that day in the secret passages—that glorious day, those glorious kisses!—he’d resisted her. Because he knew they had no chance at a future together.
But….
But….
But right here and now, they had a present together.
With shaking hands, Robena lowered her bowl to the ground beside her. She swallowed as she tried to work through these thoughts swirling in her head.
He’d been trying to keep her heart safe, but her heart knew what it wanted. It—she wanted him. And if she couldn’t have him forever, then mayhap having him for just a few days would be enough.
“Excuse me,” she murmured, pushing herself to her feet and wiping her palms on her kilt.
“Ooh-hoo-hoo!” teased Giric, as he took her spot. “Feeling fancy tonight, Robbie? With the manners, eh?”
“I need….” She guessed where Kester would be. “The lake.”
“Aye, lad, I didnae want to say aught to ye,” Giric mumbled around a mouthful of stew, “but ye stink.”
“All lads stink after a few days in the saddle,” assured Weesil. “Even Giric.”
“No’ me.” Auld Gommy stroked his beard fondly. “I’m too auld to stink.”
Pudge snorted. “Ye stink enough to choke a goat.”
“Well ye could choke a bull!” spat the old man in return.
Mook rumbled, “I could choke a bull!”
As Giric muttered, “Aye, ye could,” in what sounded like admiration, Weesil quipped, “Ye could choke a snake.”
“Nay, that’s what Kester’s doing all alone by the lake!”
And they all dissolved into guffaws as Robena melted into the shadows, trusting the moon to guide her way.