"Then I could go to my English friend's home and borrow from her."
He'd read some letters from that one, too. How many times could she drop that she was fifteenth from the throne? The idea of Anna asking for anything from that snob made his hackles rise - and his pride suffer.
While Anna was with him, it was his due to provide her with things she needed. He gave himself an inward shake when he realized that if she were his, he'd go into hock making her happy. "Forget it. I'm trying to protect you," he snapped. And hock it would be. He didn't have wealth like she saw here. This house was to be Ethan's. His eldest brother was laird and chief of the clan, and the title, the estates, and the family money were all his. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Court had returned to England with no income, no contracts, and no crew.
"Please let me send a note to her - "
"I said no."
She changed tactics. "I appreciate all you've done for me, MacCarrick, but I need to know that if I wanted to walk out that door and have my friends help me, I could."
"Damn it, Anna, no you could no'." He stood, catching her arm. "The only way you're leaving this house is when your brother comes for you. I estimate a week or two, so you'll just have to put up with me until then."
"Why? Our bargain doesn't seem to count anymore." She lowered her voice. "You said we can't be lovers. What exactly am I to you?"
What did she expect him to say? Did she want him to admit he desired more from her, when she only wanted to repeat the night before? "I made you a promise - "
"I'm a promise to keep?" she asked, giving him an expression as though she were disappointed in him.
"Aye. No." He made some growling noise. "Christ, I doona know. Then what am I to you?"
"Honestly, I don't know either." She twined her fingers in front of her. "But you won't let me find out."
When she turned for the stairs, he sank back to his chair again, dumbstruck by their exchange. Could she want more from him? And what did it matter since he couldn't give it?...
"A word, Court?" Hugh intoned from the doorway. He turned for the study, expecting Court to follow.
How bloody much had Hugh heard? Court stood and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, walking without energy toward the study, but when he passed Erskine on the way, Court said, "Find a dressmaker or seamstress who will come here. A good one."
With a "Right away!" Erskine scuttled off.
Damn it, Court wasn't in the mood to explain Anna to his brother, but this appeared to be an opportune time to find out about his money. When he entered, Hugh was sitting at the desk, his face grave, his manner all business.
Court had barely gotten a glass of proper whisky and sat across from him when Hugh warned, "Watch yourself."
"It's good to see you, too." Court raised his glass. "Aye, that's right, brother. I managed to survive another campaign. Shall we discuss the investments made while I was away?"
"Later," Hugh said, plainly concerned with only one subject. "I've never seen you look at anything like you do her."
Court peered into his drink. "I can admit to some feeling for her."
"Want to tell me who she is?"
"It's a long story."
Hugh steepled his fingers. "She does no' look like she's going to be speaking to you this afternoon anyway."
True. So he detailed Pascal's treachery, Annalía's kidnapping and escape, and the danger she was in now. He related almost everything except what they'd done privately and how she had him so knotted inside he couldn't think when she was near.
When he finished, Hugh didn't have any questions, just said, "You're possessive about her. As if she's yours already."
"I will no' let those bastards get near her."
"It's more than that. I see it clearly." His voice went low. "I know because I've felt it clearly."
Yes, Hugh knew what he was going through. Hugh had wanted the same woman for years. Now that Court finally understood what his brother had been feeling all this time, he didn't know how he'd done it. Court had no doubt that years of this with Annalía would turn his mind to soup.
"So now that we know how you feel, what about the lass?" Hugh asked. "Does she care for you? It'll make it harder for you to let her go - "
"I doona think she'll have a problem once there's someone to take my place. Bring her a nice, wealthy gentleman and she'll be content."
Hugh grimaced as if in pain. "That bad?"
"She thinks I'm a brute. Lacking a Castilian's sophistication. You heard her - she's no' particularly keen on Scots in general."
His brows drew together. "She dinna seem averse to you like that."
Court drank deeply. "There were a couple of times with her when I was no' as strong as I should have been." And she sees no reason for those times to end.
"This woman obviously comes from a fine family."
Court muttered, "You have no idea."
"What do you mean?"
"Pascal wanted her because she has...well, she's a bit...royal."
Hugh tried to speak, then closed his mouth. On his second attempt, he grated, "Could you find any woman you were supposed to be with less? You ken you canna bed her without consequences."
"I have no' bedded her."
Hugh eyed him hard, then apparently decided he was telling the truth. "And you will no'?"
Court rubbed his hand over his face.
"You'd have to marry her."
"I know that," he snapped.
"Do you, Court? You and Ethan and I do a lot of questionable things among the three of us, but we've never gone about ruining young innocents. Consider the repercussions for a woman in her position."
"I would never ruin her."
"So you'd risk this woman's safety?"
"You think I doona go over again and again that she's in danger because of me? She was attacked three times and shot on my watch. She's been targeted for murder because of my actions. I know she would've been better off if she'd never met me."
"Then what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to fix her life. Then I'm going to get out of it."
"Why did you no' eat more?" MacCarrick asked as he escorted Annalía to her room that night. "You canna afford to miss many meals, lass."
Though she'd been put out with him earlier, his obvious concern for her over dinner mitigated her irritation. "I just have to get used to the different foods," she answered. "I've never had Saxon fare." Raised on a mountain, Annalía had never been overly fond of seafood. And the Brits seemed to eat little else.
"Be glad it was no' Celtic fare," he mumbled.
She glanced up at him. "Is Scottish food strange?"
He gave her a short laugh. "For you? Aye. It would be."
When he grasped her elbow and steered her up the stairs, she said, "The tension between you and your brother at dinner was thick. Did you fight with him?"
"I did," he finally admitted.
"Will you tell me why?"
He hesitated, but she suspected he wanted to tell her. At length, he said, "Hugh did something high-handed with my property. I dinna appreciate that he acted without my permission."
Though a vexing urge arose to point out that it must be extremely high-handed for him to think it so, she instead asked, "Did he have good intentions?"
"Oh, aye. But that's not the point. He thinks he knows what's better for me than I do for myself."
She couldn't help but grin at his surly tone and reached over to touch his hand at her elbow. "I thought that was a sibling's prerogative to think that way. Aleix is the same. When he makes a decision for me, I try to remind myself how fortunate I am just to have someone so concerned about my welfare - like you have your two brothers. I remind myself of this, then I set about thwarting him." Her look of amusement faded. "MacCarrick, are you sure Aleix will find me here?"
"I've no doubt. He'll travel to your school and receive the message and then it's only a matter of time until he arrives here."
She nodded slowly, lost in thought as they reached her room. He placed his palm at her lower back to guide her inside, but she paused in front of the bed, blushing from memories of the night before. She perceived his thumb faintly rubbing her back, and wondered if he realized he was doing it. When she turned to face him, his hand trailed along her waist before dropping abruptly.