Page 12 of Highland Seduction

“His name is Father Cameron,” the priest offered. “If ye’d like, I can write a letter of recommendation. It should gain ye an audience with him.” The priest’s eyes narrowed just a bit. “If ye do find Ian and Marta, of course.”

“Of course,” Ainsley said. “We would very much appreciate it, Father.” She beamed at him as if the man had just annulled their marriage himself.

“We leave now,” Tor added when the priest did not move.

Father Godfrey jumped. “Oh, I didnae realize . . .”

“Forgive my husband,” Ainsley apologized for him. “He does not mean to be so abrupt.”

“Aye, I do,” Tor corrected her. His normally jovial nature had been firmly replaced this day, and meeting the priest had done little to improve Tor’s mood.

“I will write it immediately.” The priest jumped up too quickly and shuffled away.

“Are ye always so rude?”

“Are ye always so naive?”

His wife did not take kindly to that particular question.

“I was once,” she said. Tor would have inquired further about such an odd response, but Ainsley was not finished. “We are here to gain his assistance, not to entice the man to toss us from his chapel.”

“I dinnae care for him.”

Ainsley made a strangled sound in her throat. “Do ye care for anyone? Other than yerself, I meant to say.”

“Ye know naught about me to make such a statement,” Tor said, wondering how such a beautiful woman could spew such hate. His face ached, their road ahead was long, and his mood, not improving.

“I could say the same.”

He would not disparage the priest now. Father Godfrey could emerge at any moment. Best he believed Tor had been won over by his “kind” gesture. So instead, he asked, “What of our truce, then? Ended before it’s begun?”

“It would seem so.”

“Our journey will be a long one, Ainsley. Could we no’ set aside our differences for the sake of a common goal?”

“They are many,” she said, arms crossed. The posture did naught to alleviate his discomfort as Ainsley’s arms pushed her breasts up, the bodice of that gown much too low for his liking. It would be fine if she were not a wife he could not bed lest he find himself married to her for all eternity.

The thought of it made him shudder. “Name one.”

“Ye were no’ nice to Father Godfrey.”

“I will explain myself later.”

“Ye preen.”

“Nay, lass. I do no’.”

“Aye, ye do. Last eve, in the hall. It was as if ye thought every maiden in the keep was watching ye.”

“How could ye know such a thing?”

Caught, Ainsley scowled. “Ye’re a MacRob.”

“And ye’re a Shaw.” He stopped her, as Ainsley was no doubt willing to list his flaws all eve. “One kind thing now.”

“About ye?” The very idea seemed to appall her.

“Aye. I will begin. I admire that ye stopped the king from fetching yer brother on his wedding night.”