Torrin kept an eye on Gregor MacBain beside him. The man had already guzzled several goblets of wine, then he pulled out a whisky flask and downed a long swallow.

He caught Torrin watching him and gave a mock smile. "I would offer you some, MacLeod, but I only have a wee dram left."

"I have no hankering for whisky at the moment." He had to keep a clear head and protect Jessie from this scoundrel. No telling what he would do once the drink took hold of him.

"Where in blazes did Lady Jessie get to?" MacBain asked. "I want to dance with the lass."

"I have no inkling," Torrin muttered, then took another bite of the tender venison they'd been served. Although he'd love to see Jessie himself, 'twas probably best that she'd made herself scarce if the imbecile sitting beside him was going to harass her. He doubted Jessie would want to dance with MacBain.

"I'll not let her shun me. I'm going to find her." He pushed back his chair.

Damnation. Grinding his teeth, Torrin did the same and trailed after MacBain as he headed toward a narrow stairwell leading up. Torrin wanted to finish his meal, the best he'd had in weeks. MacBain staggered and grabbed onto the rope which served as a stair rail. This couldn't be good. He dragged himself up the stone turnpike stairway. Torrin followed, and although he wasn't trying to hide from MacBain, the man already appeared too sotted to realize he was trailing behind him.

"Lady Jessie!" MacBain bellowed at the top of the steps. "I have a gift for you, my bonnie lass!"

Coming up behind him, Torrin saw that Jessie stood in the corridor talking with a maid. The maid hastened away. Jessie placed her hands upon her hips. "Your room is almost ready, MacBain. But you must be patient."

He stumbled forward. "Nay, 'tis not that. I brought you something special." Awkwardly, he dug into his sporran.

Jessie's annoyed gaze darted to Torrin. A lightning flash through the narrow window lit her hair to flaming red and her eyes to bright sky-blue. Her vivid beauty snatched his breath and ignited excitement within him. How he wished this buffoon, MacBain, was not here. He'd do everything in his power to convince Jessie to allow him a kiss.

Her attention switched to MacBain who held up a pendant, dangling it from his fingers.

"This is for you, m'lady." He bowed, then offered the pendant to her.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I cannot accept any gifts from you."

"What? Are you mad, woman? 'Tis real gold and rubies."

"I'm not interested."

"You're still mad at me," he whined.

Torrin rolled his eyes. Had the man no pride?

"A thoussssand apologies," MacBain slurred. "Hope you can forgive me my past misdeeds."

"I forgive you, but I still cannot accept any gifts," she said, as if bored. "Please go back down to the great hall until your chamber is prepared."

Torrin grinned, glad she'd refused the pendant. Clearly, she was a woman who could not be swayed by expensive gifts, and he admired her for it. He was starting to like her more with every moment he was in her presence.

MacBain let out an exasperated breath and unsteadily dropped the pendant back into his sporran while he wavered back and forth. "S-save it for later then. I'll change your mind, Jessss-ie. Just you wait and see."

"Nay, I think not."

"You protest too much. Come dance, bonnie lass." He staggered toward her.

"I'm too busy to dance, and too tired besides."

"Nonsense. Dancing will make you feel better." He grasped her hand.

She snatched it away. "Go downstairs to the great hall," she ordered through clenched teeth.

Torrin wanted to intervene and kick MacBain's arse back down the stairs, but considering what a strong woman Jessie was, she would likely want to take care of this problem herself. She had to make MacBain understand she had no interest in him, but considering how daft he was, 'twould no doubt take a while to get it through his thick skull.

"Only if you come with me." MacBain grabbed for her hand again, but she drew back and he teetered into the wall.

Torrin took a step forward, ready to seize the bastard if he became more aggressive.

"You're drunk, MacBain. Go into the guest room and sleep it off." Her face red, Jessie pointed at an open doorway.

"Nay. This is no time to sleep. 'Tis time for dancin'… and lovin'."

"You're mad," she muttered, disgust obvious in her low tone.

Torrin shook his head at how ridiculous the man was. "MacBain, leave the lady alone."

MacBain spun around and swayed, but caught himself just before he toppled sideways. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough. Come. Let's go downstairs. You're being a nuisance," he said in a reasonable tone.

"'Tis nay your concern, MacLeod! Leave us be."

"I'll not allow you to accost Lady Jessie."

"I'm not accost-ing anyone," he slurred. "This lady is my wife."

"Wrong!" Jessie said, blue fire in her eyes with the lightning flash. "Go with MacLeod or I will have the guards toss you out into the storm."

"Och. You would treat me in such a way, m'lady?" MacBain whined.

"Indeed," she said firmly.

Torrin rolled his eyes. He'd never seen such a pathetic drunk.

MacBain sent her a glare, then Torrin, before wobbling along the corridor the way he'd come. Torrin followed him, then glanced back at Jessie. She was staring at him, or rather at his plaid-covered arse. Her gaze lifted, connecting with his. Her fiery blush was evident, even in the low candlelight of the corridor. She quickly turned and disappeared into the nearest chamber.

A thrill coursing through him, he grinned. Mayhap there was more hope than he'd realized. He was fair certain she had been eying his physique.

***

Later that night, an urgent voice broke into Torrin's restless sleep. "M'laird."

He opened his eyes to find Luag, the guard he'd posted in the corridor, with his head stuck inside the door and a lantern in his hand. Torrin sat up. "Aye?"

"MacBain left his room."

"Damnation." Torrin leapt up from the bed, still fully clothed for just this reason. "Where did he go?"

"That direction." Luag pointed toward the stairwell.

Torrin rushed after him. If the knave had it in his head to find Jessie's bedchamber, he would break his leg. Hopefully, he was only going in search of a garderobe after his excessive drinking.

A MacKay guard stood at the bottom of the steps.

"Which way did MacBain go?"

He pointed across the great hall to another stairwell that led up.

Torrin hurried up the steps and found another corridor and MacBain, carrying a lantern. He knocked at a door. Rage lit Torrin's veins on fire. Was that Jessie's bedchamber? If so, how had MacBain learned where it was? No one guarded this corridor at all.

"Hell," Torrin said under his breath. Why would she not have someone guarding her door with all these visitors about?

MacBain tried the door latch, and Torrin was ready to break the whoreson's neck. The door didn't budge, thank the saints. Jessie had barred it.

MacBain knocked lightly.

With no storm to cover the sounds of his footsteps this time, Torrin slipped from his hiding place and crept up behind the man.

"Who is it?" Jessie asked from the other side of the thick oak door.

"What are you doing, MacBain?" Torrin said over his shoulder.