“You—” He gaped at Katie. “’Tis not possible for this man to be your betrothed. You are betrothed to me.” He fumbled in his pocket and withdrew a paper that he waved in her face. “Right here. Your father and I made arrangements for you to marry me.”
Despite his warning for Katie not to speak, she pulled her arm from Evan’s side and tugged the paper from Armstrong’s hand and shook it. “My da never signed this paper.”
“’Tis his signature,” Richard said.
“It looks like his signature, but ’tis not. He would never do such a thing and not tell me.”
Evan took the paper from Katie’s hand, folded it, and handed it back to Armstrong. “The lady says she is not betrothed to ye. She and I are betrothed, and this morning—with her permission—as soon as I can locate a priest, we will be making arrangements.”
Armstrong’s face grew bright red, and the vein in his neck throbbed. “And why would you be looking for a priest this morning? And where were you that you’re returning together with the sun barely up and ye both looking like you just rolled out of bed? Together.”
Evan leaned forward. “’Tis none of yer business. The lady is marrying me, and ye have no rightful claim on her. I suggest yet get back on yer horse”—Evan flicked his fingers at the animal standing a few feet from them—“and hie off to Stirling.” With those words, he took Katie’s arm and marched her to the front door.
“I will not allow ye to steal my betrothed! I will take this paper to the magistrate.” Armstrong’s last few words were barely heard as Evan closed the door on the man’s ranting.
Katie turned the minute the door closed. “What will we do?”
Evan shrugged. “Find a priest. Get married. Spend some time consummating the marriage. A day or two will be enough.” He grinned. “For now.”
Katie swung and punched him in the arm. “I’ll not be wedding ye until we get a few things settled.” She pointed to the entrance. “And one of them stands on the other side of that door.”
Evan turned and walked toward the Great Hall.
“Where are ye going?”
“Breakfast. I always think better on a full stomach.” He strode across the hall with Katie dodging his footsteps.
“Do ye think Richard will leave?”
“Nay.”
“What will we do?”
Evan settled in on the long bench at the table and waved at the young girl passing through. “We’ll have breakfast now, lass.”
“Aye, my laird.” She bowed and hurried from the hall.
“Ye didn’t answer my question.” Katie climbed in alongside him, her brows furrowed and her lovely pink tongue licking her plump lips. “’Tis one reason I’m not in favor of this marriage. Ye take too much for granted. Ye just assume I will fall in with yer plans like some sniveling young girl. There is no reason we have to marry since no one kens what happened. And I’ve been my own boss for years now. I dinnae intend to become a—”
He did what any man would have done in his position. He pulled her close, wrapped his arm around her, and covered her mouth with this. He cupped her chin as she attempted to pull away, but he held tight, and eventually she melted against him.
He nudged her lips with his tongue, and she moaned softly, leaving him to consider if he should skip breakfast and rustle up a priest.
“Unhand that woman!”
Evan gently eased himself from Katie’s warmth and gazed at the man standing at the entrance to the Great Hall, his hands on his hips and fire in his eyes. Evan leaned his forehead against Katie’s and sighed. “Excuse me, lass, I must attend to this annoyance.”
He climbed from the bench, walked toward Armstrong, and planted his fists on his hips. “Now, then, lad. How many times do I need to tell ye to leave?”
Chapter Twenty
Katie held her breath as Evan walked up to Richard, demanding he leave. Although Richard had always seemed large and intimidating to her, Evan towered over him.
She had still not recovered from the shock of seeing him standing on the doorstep. Although in the back of her mind she’d known there was a strong possibility of that happening—given his obsession with Gavin—she’d hoped it would not.
“I will not leave without my betrothed.” Richard’s voice was shaky, and he backed up a few steps.
“Mistress Stirling is not yer betrothed. She knew nothing of the document yer waving about, and since her da is deceased, and therefore unable to confirm its legitimacy, yer left with no proof.” Evan leaned in farther, causing Richard to take a few steps back. “Furthermore, I’m ordering ye off my property. Ye are not welcome, and I dinnae want to see ye here again.”
“I can go to the local magistrate.”
“And do what? Cry and complain that the lass doesn’t want anything to do with ye? Have ye no pride, mon?”
Richard’s face grew pale as new milk, then red as strawberries. He waved his fist at Evan. “She won’t get away with this.”
Before Evan could react, the man turned on his heel and left the hall, the door to the outside slamming behind him.
“Do ye think he can do something by going to the magistrate?” Katie took a sip of the tea a young serving girl had placed before her.
Evan waved his hand in dismissal. “Nay. Even if he has the boldness to do such a thing, there isnnae anything the magistrate can do for him.” He picked up the platter of eggs, bacon, sausage, and beans and filled his plate. “And if the magistrate is half-witted enough to take up his cause, we will be married before he can do anything.”
“Oh aye. That
