“That’s what you wish me to do?” she asked in a small voice.
He studied her a long moment. “Aye,” he said finally. “That’s what I wish you to do.” He pushed his hands through his hair before grabbing Occam by the reins and leading him away.
Jillian watched him retreat, her throat working painfully. She would not cry. She would never again waste her tears on him. With a sigh, she turned for the castle, only to come smack up against Quinn’s broad chest. He was regarding her with such compassion that it unraveled her composure. Tears filled her eyes as he put his arms around her. “How long have you been standing here?” she asked shakily.
“Long enough,” he replied softly. “It wouldn’t take any persuading, Jillian,” Quinn assured her. “I cared deeply for you as a lass—you were as a cherished younger sister to me. I could love you as much more than a sister now.”
“What is there to love about me? I’m a blithering idiot!”
Quinn smiled bitterly. “Only for Grimm. But then, you always were a fool for him. As to what one might love about you: your irrepressible spirit, your wit, your curiosity about everything, the music you play, your love for the children. You have a pure heart, Jillian, and that’s rare.”
“Oh, Quinn, why are you always so good to me?” She affectionately brushed his cheek with her knuckles before she slipped past him and dashed, alone, for the castle.
CHAPTER 9
“WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?” QUINN DEMANDED, bursting into the stables.
Grimm glanced over his shoulder as he slid the halter from Occam. “What are you talking about? I doona have a problem,” he replied, waving an eager-to-assist stable boy away. “I’ll take care of my own horse, lad. And doona be penning him up in here. I just brought him in to rub him down. Never pen him.”
Nodding, the stable boy backed away and left quickly.
“Look, McIllioch, I don’t care what motivates you to be such a bastard to her,” Quinn said, dropping all pretense by using Grimm’s real name. “I don’t even wish to know. Just stop. I won’t have you making her cry. You did it enough when we were young. I didn’t interfere then, telling myself that Gavrael McIllioch had had a tough life and maybe he needed some slack, but you don’t have a tough life anymore.”
“How would you know?”
Quinn glared. “Because I know what you’ve become. You’re one of the most respected men in Scotland. You’re no longer Gavrael McIllioch—you’re the renowned Grimm Roderick, a legend of discipline and control. You saved the King’s life on a dozen different occasions. You’ve been rewarded so richly that you’re worth more than old St. Clair and myself put together. Women fling themselves at your feet. What more could you want?”
Only one thing—the thing I can never have, he brooded. Jillian. “You’re right, Quinn. As usual. I’m an ass and you’re right. So marry her.” Grimm turned his back and fiddled with Occam’s saddle. He shrugged Quinn’s hand off his shoulder a moment later. “Leave me alone, Quinn. You’d make a perfect husband for Jillian, and since I saw Ramsay kissing her the other day, you’d better move fast.”
“Ramsay kissed her?” Quinn exclaimed. “Did she kiss him back?”
“Aye,” Grimm said bitterly. “And that man has spoiled more than his share of innocent lasses, so do us both a favor and save Jillian from him by offering for her yourself.”
“I already have,” Quinn said quietly.
Grimm spun sharply. “You did? When? What did she say?”
Quinn shifted from foot to foot. “Well, I didn’t exactly out-and-out ask her, but I made my intentions clear.”
Grimm waited, one dark brow arched inquiringly.
Quinn tossed himself down on a pile of hay and leaned back, resting his weight on his elbows. He blew a strand of blond hair out of his face irritably. “She thinks she’s in love with you, Grimm. She has always thought she was in love with you, ever since she was a child. Why don’t you finally come clean with the truth? Tell her who you really are. Let her decide if you’re good enough for her. You’re heir to a chieftain—if you’d ever go home and claim it. Gibraltar knows exactly who you are, and he summoned you to be one of the contenders for her hand. Obviously he thinks you’re good enough for his daughter. Maybe you’re the only one who doesn’t.”
“Maybe he brought me just to make you look good by comparison. You know, invite the beast-boy. Isn’t that what Jillian used to call me?” He rolled his eyes. “Then the handsome laird looks even more appealing. She can’t be interested in me. As far as Jillian knows, I’m not even titled. I’m a nobody. And I thought you wanted her, Quinn.” Grimm turned back to his horse and swept Occam’s side with long, even strokes of the brush.