She glared. "I don't masticate, thank you."
He shrugged. "I can take care of Cass. His leg will heal, he'll acclimate, and eventually Garreth will turn up. But none of this will matter if he canna make you content here."
She turned to touch her forehead to the mare's and said in a soft voice, "I don't like that he hurts or is worried, but I can't simply tell myself to be happy here. It's just got to come."
"It will if you give it time. Once he can shake off more of his past...troubles, you will find he's a good man."
"I don't seem to have a choice in the matter, do I?"
"No' at all. So in the meantime, do you want me to tell you how to manage him better?"
"Manage him?" she asked, facing him.
"Aye."
She blinked at him. "I might have to hear this."
"Understand that anything he does, he does with the ultimate goal of your happiness." She parted her lips to disagree, but he spoke over her: "So if you are displeased with any measure he takes toward that end, you need only to voice that it's made you un happy."
When she frowned, he asked, "How'd his lie make you feel?"
She looked down at the toe of her boot drawing circles in the packed dirt, and finally mumbled, "Betrayed. Hurt."
"Think about this for a moment. How do you think he'd react if you simply told him that he'd hurt you?"
She lifted her head, staring at him for many moments.
He rose, dusted off his pants, then turned for the door, only pausing to say over his shoulder, "By the way, that's your horse."
Before he faced forward, he saw the mare nose her hair and nearly knock her down.
"You will no' embrace an old friend?" Cassandra asked with a pout.
"If she were content to remain as such," Lachlain answered impatiently. How long was Bowe going to be? He trusted Bowe with his life, and if pressed, he'd say even with something so important as his mate, but he was still restless waiting here.
Her arms were still opened. "It's been centuries, Lachlain."
"If Emma walked in and saw us 'embracing,' how do you think that would make her feel?"
Her arms dropped and she sank into a chair across from the desk. "No' like you think. Because she feels nothing for you. While I mourned your death as a widow would."
"A waste of time on your part. Even if I'd died."
"Bowe explained where you've been and what she is. She has no place here. You've been unwell and canna see how wrong this is."
He couldn't even bring himself to anger, because he'd never been surer of anything than he was of Emma. He realized now that the reasons he'd continued to befriend Cassandra over the years no longer applied.
In the past, he'd felt sorry for her. Like him, she'd gone centuries without finding her mate, and he'd thought that, like him, she reacted to the lack in an unhealthy way. But whereas he'd sought out enemies, eagerly taking the forefront of every war and volunteering for any dangerous task abroad where he might stumble upon his mate, Cassandra had seized on him.
"Who was there for you when your da died? Your mother? Who helped you search for Heath?"
He exhaled wearily. "The entire clan."
Her lips thinned, then she seemed to rally. "We have a history together. We are of the same species. Lachlain, what would your parents have thought about you taking a vampire as mate? And Garreth? Think of the shame this will bring him."
Truthfully, Lachlain didn't know how his parents would have reacted. Before they'd died, they'd regretted that their sons had been unable to find their mates for so long, and had understood Lachlain's, the oldest son's, more obvious pain. But they'd also abhorred vampires - thought them malicious parasites and a blight on the earth. He couldn't say for Garreth, either. So instead, he answered, "I look forward to the day when you find your mate and you can think back on this and truly comprehend how ridiculous I find your words."
Bowe ambled through the doorway then. At Lachlain's raised eyebrows, Bowe shrugged, as though the conversation with Emma hadn't been overly encouraging.
Harmann bustled in just after, perspiring, hectic, the complete opposite of cool, uncaring Bowe. "The staff is departing. I just wanted to check to see if you need anything else before I leave."
"We'll be fine."
"If you need anything, my number is programmed into the phone."
"As if that helps me," Lachlain muttered. He thought he'd been doing so well with learning the tools of this time, but the sheer amount of technology was daunting.
"Oh, and the packages that arrived today for your queen have been unpacked."
"Harmann, go," he ordered. Harmann looked as if he was ready to pass out.
He cast Lachlain a grateful expression and strode out the door.
"Gifts will no' sway her," Cassandra pointed out in a churlish tone.
"I disagree," Bowe answered, pulling a red apple from his jacket pocket and shining it on his shirt. "I've learned the queen does so like her gifts."
When Lachlain raised his eyebrows, Bowe said, "Showed her the horse. Regret stealing your thunder." He displayed no sign of regret.
Lachlain shrugged as if unconcerned, though he had wanted to see her reaction and capitalize on any gratitude she might have demonstrated.
"The good news is that she dinna like the idea of Cass up here talking to you. Distressed the wee creature."
Could Emma have been jealous? Lachlain knew she could never feel the soul-deep possession he felt for her, but he'd take anything. He frowned. He didn't want her distressed. "Cassandra, you will leave here. No' to return until invited by Emmaline herself. I will no' be moved from this."