Forgiving Hearts: Duncurra 1-3 by Ceci Giltenan Page B

meant. If I ask ye to do something, I want no argument. I expect ye to do it.”
    Katherine considered that statement for a moment before replying with a slightly cheeky grin. “Perhaps then, you will be more specific with your next order.”
    He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Let me try again. Come here and kiss me, wife,” he commanded.
    She crossed the room into his arms and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips.
    “That is not at all what I had in mind,” he said, and lowered his lips to hers, giving her a passionate, soul-stirring kiss. “That, my sweet little wife, is a kiss.”
    “Do you see how important details are?” she said audaciously.
    He gave a low growl, “I would be happy to give ye plenty of details on this subject, but it will have to wait until after dinner.” He kissed her again before asking, “Ye had a question earlier?”
    “Aye,” she answered, her expression turning serious. “I was wondering what is to be done with Tomas?”
    He, too, had been trying to determine what would be best for Tomas. She seemed fond of the lad and she obviously wanted to protect him from her uncle. However, in general, Lowlanders were as class-conscious as the English. Therefore, as a peasant, the son of a stable hand, Tomas’ social status was only slightly higher than a serf’s. He did not want the lad growing up without a mother’s love. He had warm memories of his own mother and bitter memories of Eithne’s cruelty. Although she hadn’t revealed the harsh side of her personality to her husband, it was evident to nearly everyone else, but perhaps most evident to her stepson. Even after she had a son of her own, nothing changed; she treated Fingal no better than she did Niall. In the lad’s best interest, Niall thought perhaps it would be better for Tomas to live with the family of one of his clansmen, but he didn’t want to discuss this now. He finally answered, “I haven’t decided yet. For tonight he will stay with Fingal as he has been. We will discuss it in the morning.”
    Although Katherine didn’t appear happy about it, she said no more.
    Wanting to banish the solemn look from her face, Niall kissed her again. Her warm response pleased him immeasurably, and the kiss had its desired effect; she no longer looked troubled. “Ye’re distracting me again, lass. My clan will starve if ye don’t desist.”
    “I’m distracting you?”
    “Well, the details on who is distracting whom may be a bit fuzzy. We will have to work them out later,” he said with a wink and, taking her elbow, led her downstairs for the evening meal.
    Niall walked to the refectory table in the great hall with Katherine on his arm. Generally, everyone who lived or worked in and around the keep ate their meals on the trestle tables, while the laird’s family and invited guests dined at his table. Diarmad and Fingal were seated there, as well as Alan. Niall introduced their other guests, Cairbre, his other captain, Cairbre’s wife, Maude, and Alan’s wife, Effie. Katherine appeared thrilled to see Tomas at the table too, and gave the lad a quick hug before taking her seat.
    She seemed to enjoy the company of the two women. Effie and Maude told her stories about their families and the clan and kept Katherine laughing through the meal. Niall conversed with his men, but Katherine’s voice or her musical laughter frequently distracted him and he often caught himself gazing at her.
    “Laird, are ye listening?” he heard Cairbre ask.
    “Listening? My apologies, I was preoccupied for a moment.”
    “A moment? Ye have been preoccupied all evening,” Cairbre answered. “Ye can’t take your eyes off her. Has she captured your heart, lad?”
    Momentarily taken aback, Niall recovered quickly. “Make no mistake, Cairbre,” he said soberly, “she is lovely and she pleases me. I am glad she is my wife, but my heart was never part of this bargain.”
    The Laird retired with his wife as soon as the evening meal ended. It had been