been convinced all of her practice would pay off. But it had, and she was proud of herself. “Practice.”
His eyes darkened again. “Did
he
teach you?”
She shook her head. For years she’d pestered Gregor every time he came home to teach her how to defend herself, but he always put her off “until next time.” Finally, she grew weary of waiting and asked John. “No, John taught me.”
Pip paused for a moment and looked up at her uncertainly. “Do you think that maybe you could teach me?”
She grinned. “You wouldn’t mind taking lessons in warfare from a lass?”
He thought for a minute, obviously taking her question seriously. “Not if you can teach me to do that.”
She laughed. “Well, why don’t we see what you can do tomorrow?”
He stared at her, a look of cautious excitement on his bruised and battered face. “Really?”
She smiled. It was still so hard for him to believe that anything good would be coming his way, but she was determined to change that. “Really. But you’ll have to work hard.”
His black head was nodding so enthusiastically, she feared he might start his nose bleeding again. “I will, I promise.”
She hid a smile. “Then come to the practice yard after your chores. John and I should be done by then.”
A few times a week—more if she begged him hard enough—John found time to squeeze in a few practice sessions with her in between his other duties. With Gregor and their youngest brother, Padraig, off fighting, it hadbeen left to John to keep watch over their holdings for the time being. Although John was anxious to return to the battle, Cate looked forward to their training more than anything—except for Gregor’s visits.
Reminded that the very man was likely waiting for her and the children in the Great Hall, Cate hurried to get the salve and see what could be done about Pip’s poor face. She had to ensure that Gregor’s second impression was better than the first. A wry smile turned her lips. Given the first meeting, that shouldn’t be too hard.
Four
With Cate requisitioning the tub, Gregor made use of the river to wash away the two days of grime from the saddle. On a hot summer day, a dip in the River Lyon was invigorating and refreshing, but about a week from mid-winter’s day, it was like jumping into ice water. Cold enough to freeze your bollocks off.
He hoped.
The prurient thoughts about his wee “ward” weren’t just an annoyance, they were also bloody embarrassing. A man of his experience should have some control over his thoughts and his body, damn it. But apparently, he was reduced to relying on cold water until he could find a husband for her.
To that end, the first thing he’d done after meeting with John was make a list of suitable men in the area—not too old, not too young, not too rich, not too poor, not too noble of blood, but not a peasant either. He was seeking a man who would appreciate the generous tocher that Gregor intended to provide, but who would not require an important family alliance. Although Cate would benefit by her connection with him as her guardian, her father had been only a man-at-arms of one of Bruce’s vassals.
It was a delicate balance, but Gregor intended to make the best connection for her that he could. It was what she deserved. He couldn’t see her with a simple husbandman or cottar. There was something oddly noble about the lass.She certainly acted like a queen sometimes—or at least with all the bloody authority of one. Perhaps one of his retainers? A member of a local chieftain’s
meinie
? The second or third son of a local chief?
In the end, he’d come up with a half-dozen names. He would have the clerk start writing to them immediately. As Gregor was home for the holidays for the first time in years, he would be expected to hold a feast for the Hogmanay celebration, which would be as good a reason as any to bring them here. With any luck, the betrothal would be all wrapped up by the time he