Chapter Three
Gavin strolled into his brother’s chamber without knocking only to stop at the sight of his brother’s naked arse.
Unable to stop, as Sinclair seemed to be at the point of culmination, his brother chose to ignore his presence.
Allowing him privacy, Gavin stalked past the bed to the window only to be stopped when a hand reached out and grabbed his. A second wench lay beside the couple. Her passion-drunk gaze met his and she licked her lips. “Join us.”
A grunt followed by a loud groan signaled Sinclair’s release just as the woman beneath him cried out.
Gavin pulled his hand away slowly. “I don’t join my brother in bedsport. The sight of him naked chases away any arousal on my part.”
From the window, lights in the near distance could be seen. The village folks had settled for the night. There were only a few people still up and about surrounding the large bonfire in the square. The boar hunt must have brought a good-sized prize.
“Why are you in here?” Sinclair growled more than asked. “As you can see, I’m preoccupied. I’m not in the mood for conversation.”
Not bothering to turn around lest he see more of his brother’s nude form, Gavin kept his gaze outward. “Uncle John. What am I missing?”
A woman moaned and Gavin chuckled. He should leave, as Sinclair was known to continue bedsport well into the night. However, the niggling in the back of his mind would not allow Gavin sleep. “Why do I feel as if I’m a pawn in a game between both uncles?”
Sounds of flesh against flesh became louder until the second woman’s cry rang out. Moments later there was shuffling of clothing and whispered promises before the wenches left, both sending glares in Gavin’s direction at his ruining their chance at sleeping in a plush bed with what he was sure they considered a very handsome man.
“Do you really not see it?” Sinclair sat in the bed, the bedding about his waist, sloppily. “Tis clear as day. They plot to marry you into a family with close ties to them, so that through your wife, they can manipulate you.”
Gavin gave his brother a droll look. “I know that. But to what means? Neither uncle can aspire to the title. Beside, you are next in line to receive it if your petition is accepted.”
“Perhaps they plan to poison me and, once you are alone, kill you.” With a shrug, Sinclair reached to the table beside the bed and poured whisky, not bothering to offer him any. Although Gavin enjoyed the taste of it from time to time, he focused on always maintaining a clear mind.
Sinclair took a drink and studied him. “Although you are correct, if anything, they should not want you to marry and produce an heir. Perhaps we are overthinking it. We are well aware of Uncle Alasdair’s penchant for drama and games. Mayhap that is all they seek out of this, some sort of game to enjoy.”
Although he wasn’t convinced, Gavin could not think of any plan that would benefit either uncle if he married.
“Have we become so hardened, that we look for bad in everything? Of all people, we should be able to trust our family.”
Sinclair shook his head. “I don’t know. Years of war and our father’s recent death have affected our judgment. With the death of a powerful man, such as our father, there are always challenges to the seat.”
“True. However, Uncle John’s lord ship here is large and he seems content enough.”
“For some people, the more power the better.”
A distant look on his face, Sinclair sighed. “I miss him. He’d know exactly what to do. Father wouldn’t have stood like you do now, but would have instantly dismissed the women so we could speak.”
Gavin smiled. “True. I can see it now. He’d keep an eye on them the entire time, enjoying the view, but pretending not to.”
A bark of laughter escaped his brother and Sinclair shook his head. “Remember the time he caught the maid, Gertrude, in your chambers and watched her get dressed not knowing mother was standing in the doorway behind him?”
“Ah, yes,” Gavin laughed. “Mother made him sleep in the great room for several nights.”
Gavin ignored the pang in his chest. “We must remain at least another week. Perhaps if something is amiss, we can figure it out by then.”
The brothers looked at the fire in the hearth, both in thought. Finally, Gavin spoke again. “I met her. The lass Uncle John suggested I marry.”
“Lass? What lass?”
“Beatrice Preston. She was part of the boar hunt today when I searched for Lasitor.”
“And?” Sinclair leaned forward, his eyes locked to Gavin’s face. “What happened?”
Although Sinclair could be a gentleman, most of the time he’d rather offend a woman with a suggestion of a tup in the shade than speaking of inconsequential things. “Did you...”
“I was searching for Lasitor. I did nothing more than allow her to walk with me.”
“How enchanting.” Sinclair’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
Gavin ignored his comment. “She’s a good archer. Seems to like animals.”
“Enough to kill them? What did she look like? Are her breasts full or small?”
Considering he’d spent a couple hours in her company, Gavin had the time to memorize everything about her. From the loose tendrils framing her face, large green eyes, pouty lips and well-formed figure.
“She is quite fiery.”
Gavin’s flat gaze met Sinclair’s. “So, homely then.” He shrugged. “Don’t marry her. If she is not attractive now, imagine what she’ll look like in a few years.” His brother shuddered.
It was impossible not to laugh at the shallowness. Gavin hit his brother on the shoulder. “Good night, Brother. Should I send the wenches back to you?”
Sinclair studied the empty, rumpled bed. “I don’t know. I think not. I must rest so I can be clear of head and able to delve further into what we spoke of.”
Satisfied that regardless of Sinclair’s seeming lack of care, his brother would, indeed, investigate further. As second born, Sinclair had more freedoms. He was seen as a shallow woman chaser and that always played well for him. Those that knew his younger brother well recognized that he possessed a keen mind and intelligence much greater than most.
“Thank you.”
“No need.” Sinclair pushed the bedding off. “Now let me be.”
“Ugh, gladly,” Gavin turned away.
Later, in his own bed, Gavin considered it strange he’d not divulged how lovely Beatrice was to his brother. No doubt, upon learning of the beautiful lass, Sinclair would have been anxious to meet her. As charming as his brother was, it was doubtful that even the fiery lass could be indifferent.
Turning to lay on his stomach, Gavin punched at the pillows and blew out a breath. The next eve would be most interesting, indeed.
Visitors began arriving early the next day. Those that could not be housed indoors pitched tents and settled into the huge courtyard. Already, people from surrounding villages had settled on the lands surrounding the castle as the festivities were always eventful and great feasts were prepared and shared with everyone in attendance.
Alasdair sat at the high board next to Gavin, his eyes scanning the room searching the faces. Nostrils flared and eyes narrowed he turned to Gavin. “Do you know the men at the table next to the hearth?”
Four men sat, two on each side of the table on the benches, tearing bread from loaves and eating with gusto. By their dirty, bearded faces and soiled tunics, it was hard to tell if they’d traveled far and just arrived or were roaming men looking for work.
“No, I do not. However, they seem to know people here.”
“Aye. I notice that now.” His uncle turned to look at his brother. “It is probably John’s doing. Inviting people from every corner of neighboring lands.”
“Are the Tarlington’s expected to cause problems?”
“No,” Alasdair exclaimed. “The scouts claim there is no movement from the north. However, if they did show their faces, it would make this a memorable event, indeed.” His eyes shined and his lips curved. “Someone should have slipped word to them.”
Gavin wondered how anyone could stand being around Alasdair for more than a few moments. It was like speaking to a child, at times. Unfortunately, his uncle’s penchant for scheming was usually quite elevated. “I believe they are aware.”
His uncle’s expression became hooded. “Of course they are.”
Once again, apprehension came and Gavin looked across the room for Sinclair, who’d refused to sit at the high board. His brother ate with the guard and looked to be in deep conversation with a tall, muscular man. Hopefully, he was gleaning information that would prove useful.