Page 15 of The Highlander’s Hunted Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #2)

15

W hat are they sayin’?

Katie squinted at the two men by the fireplace, straining her ears to hear what they were talking about. Their heads were close together, voices low as if deliberately ensuring that she couldn’t overhear.

A moment later, some coins passed from Hector to the healer—a handsome sum, from what Katie could count.

“Aye, well, I cannae thank ye enough,” Hector said in a louder voice.

The healer waved the comment off, pressing a small vial into Hector’s hand instead. That done, he pointed in Katie’s direction.

“I assure ye,” Hector said with a frown, “I can apply me own ointment.”

The healer shrugged, taking his crate of medicines over to a shelf in the corner, before dropping his newly acquired coins into an old vase. Not the safest place to keep one’s worldly wealth, but Katie suspected that not many people would dare to trouble the peculiar healer.

“Are we returnin’ to Castle MacKimmon?” Katie asked as Hector pushed his plaid back over his bare leg and rose from the chair.

She had admired the sight of that muscular thigh while the healer had washed it and doused it in some kind of tincture, but when the needle and twine had come out, she had been forced to turn away. Blood didn’t bother her in the slightest, but seeing someone sewn up was beyond what she could stomach. She was , however, somewhat curious to see how neat the old healer’s stitches were, wondering if they were as pristine as her own.

“We’re goin’ to Inverness,” Hector replied, walking to her without a hint of difficulty, as if he hadn’t been injured at all.

He opened the door… and the semi-circle of wood nearly blew right out of his hand, swinging back with such violence that even the healer froze. A howling wind stampeded into the earthen hut, rain pummeling the road outside, slanting into the open doorway. Between them entering the mound and that moment, the storm had arrived.

“In this storm?” Katie asked, open-mouthed.

Heaving the door closed again, Hector turned to the healer. “Where’s the nearest inn?”

The healer pointed to his right. “North.”

“How far?” Hector pressed impatiently.

“A mile.”

Katie wasn’t too keen to travel any amount of distance in that awful storm, secretly hoping that the old man might let them stay there. But Hector was already opening the door again, his arm banding around her shoulders before she could voice any protest, ushering her out into the rain and the wind.

Two minutes later, she was back in the saddle with him, his body curving around her to block the worst of the wind, though nothing could be done about the rain. The two of them and the horse were already soaked to the bone, and destined to get soggier before they reached shelter.

“Willnae be long,” Hector assured, securing one arm around her waist as he whistled, spurring the horse into a run.

The inn wasn’t as close as the healer had promised, and so out of the way that Katie and Hector had almost missed it in the blur of sideways rain.

Will we ride back when the storm is over? Will we ride back before tonight?

Katie couldn’t stop worrying about her siblings, imagining their worry when their elder sister didn’t make it back from her ‘adventure.’ But her teeth were chattering too hard, her mouth too numb to voice the troubling questions.

Riding down the path to the inn, muted candlelight glowed behind soot-stained windows, neither welcoming nor dismissive to any travelers who had the wherewithal to see it. Katie wouldn’t have cared if it had been a shack with wolves prowling outside, as long as it was warm and could keep out the rain.

Clattering into a courtyard, a stableboy hurried forward to take Hector’s horse, his eyes gleaming as Hector put a coin in his hand.

“Take good care of him, and I’ll equal that when we leave.” He paused, glaring at the boy. “And dinnae think to rob me. Ye’d nae survive it.”

The stableboy stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Do ye understand me?” Hector growled.

The boy nodded quickly, promising to look after the horse as he carefully led the beast away.

“They’d better have somethin’ to eat,” Hector grumbled in Katie’s direction, marching off ahead of her.

She didn’t like to say anything to antagonize him, but it was becoming obvious that his leg was hurting more than he was letting on. Johnson had been the same way, becoming the most intolerable grump when injured. Lyall was turning out that way, too.

“Oh…” Katie gasped involuntarily as she crossed the threshold of the inn.

The heat washed over her in a glorious wave, as comforting as a hug from her sister. Two fireplaces crackled merrily, radiating that beautiful heat out into the quaint main parlor of the inn. There weren’t too many patrons, and those who were seated at old, stained tables had a telltale dampness to them.

“Look at ye!” a voice cried out, coming from a buxom woman of perhaps fifty or so. “Drippin’ all over me floors!”

Katie blushed furiously. “I’m sorry, I?—”

“Get in, get in!” the woman urged, ushering her deeper into the parlor. “Let’s get ye dry and warm, eh? What on earth is a lass like ye doin’ out in weather like this? Where’s yer husband? Yer faither? A braither at least?”

It appeared that the innkeeper hadn’t noticed Hector entering, and he hadn’t waited for Katie. She spotted him in a far corner, sweeping his hands through his wet hair, rivulets trickling down his corded neck and sneaking beneath the open collar of his shirt.

“I’m with him,” Katie explained shyly, her face burning afresh.

The innkeeper scowled, grabbing her by the hand and leading her over to the table Hector had commandeered. “What’s the meanin’ of this, eh?”

Hector looked up, his stone-gray eyes as cold as the downpour. “Watch yer tongue.”

“And who are ye to speak to me like that?” the innkeeper countered, matching his icy tone.

“Laird MacKimmon.”

The innkeeper’s expression transformed in the blink of an eye, her haughtiness paling into deference. She dipped in what might have been a curtsey, giving Katie a nudge in the back as if to say, Why did ye nae tell me?

“Aye, well, I wasnae to ken that,” she said. “Ye go on and sit with yer… man, Miss. I’ll have stew brought over to ye, and when ye’ve eaten yer fill, I can take ye up to yer rooms. I trust ye’ll be stayin’?”

Hector sat back, his thin shirt clinging to his broad chest, leaving nothing to the imagination. Katie swallowed, her gaze trailing down to the ridges of hard muscle, before she averted it, lest she start thinking about last night.

“Aye,” Hector said simply.

The innkeeper made another attempt at a curtsey. “I’ll see to it, M’Laird. Ye’re very welcome at this inn, M’Laird. Me son is one of yer soldiers, as it happens. Jim Stott, if ye ken him? I dinnae suppose ye do. Ye must have a thousand soldiers.”

“I ken him,” Hector replied flatly. “A good man. A good soldier.”

The innkeeper beamed with pleasure, puffing out her ample bosom. “Och, make sure to tell him that his ma sends her love!”

“I will,” Hector said, though Katie suspected he’d do no such thing.

With that, the innkeeper bustled off to fetch the promised stew, while Katie took the seat opposite Hector.

Immediately regretting her choice, unwilling to be faced with all of that barely concealed muscle and the ensuing reminders of last night, she quickly moved to the stool to his left. It didn’t make much of a difference, but at least she could look out onto the parlor with ease.

“We’re nae actually stayin’, are we?” she asked anxiously, shedding her sodden cloak.

The dress beneath wasn’t remotely dry, the finely woven wool heavy and uncomfortable with moisture.

“Ye want to keep ridin’ in that?” he replied, arching an eyebrow.

Katie cleared her throat. “It’s just that… Well, me siblings… They’re in a new place, new chambers, new everythin’, and?—”

“Me grandmaither will tend to them like they’re her own,” he interrupted, shrugging off her concerns. “The Lord kens she’s been longin’ for great-grandbairns in the castle for an eternity. She’ll revel in the chance to pretend.”

“And… ye dinnae have any?” she blurted out, her face as hot as the twin fireplaces.

Hector fixed her with a cool gaze. “None that I ken of.”

The maid…

A new twinge of jealousy fizzled in her chest.

How many ‘maids’ has he taken to his bed?

“What of yer niece?” Katie asked to dull the feeling, steering the conversation to less risky territory.

She realized her mistake instantly.

Darkness swirled in Hector’s eyes, his expression hardening to granite. She’d inadvertently charged headfirst into even riskier territory.

“Has yer grandmaither never met her?” she probed quietly, unable to stop. “She’d be a great-grandbairn, would she nae? She was yer sister’s daughter, nay? I suppose she’s at Castle Marsden. Aye, I imagine it would’ve been difficult for anyone to see her, considerin’…”

Stop it, Katie! For heaven’s sake, stop it!

It was as if anxiety had taken hold of Katie’s throat, squeezing out words against her will, causing her to babble.

Hector tapped his forefinger on a gnarl in the table’s surface. “Difficult. Aye.”

“Still, I’m glad that me siblings will be in good company,” Katie hurried to continue, sweating despite the chill of her wet clothes. “I like yer grandmaither a lot, and she seems to adore Bonnie already. Pipkin, too. Thank ye again for allowin’ him to stay. Ye’ll see that he willnae be any bother at all.”

What is wrong with me? Just… stop talkin’!

She was saved by the innkeeper, who swooped in to set down two steaming bowls of rich, hearty stew and a plate of bread, soft in the middle, crusty on the outside.

Like Flynn at breakfast, it seemed that Katie needed something to put in her mouth to stop babbling.

“Eat,” Hector instructed, tearing the bread in half.

To her surprise, he passed her one half. She took it with a mumbled “thank ye” and set to work devouring the entire bowl, realizing that she never did have anything to eat at breakfast. Her stomach had long forgotten how to feel hunger, but it cheered at the prospect of a full meal, her mood soaring as she ate every last bit.

An embarrassingly short amount of time later, after she mopped up the dregs of delicious stew with the last of her bread, Katie sighed and chewed that final morsel with her eyes closed and a grin on her face.

“It wasnae that good,” Hector scoffed, reminding her that he was there.

She blinked her eyes open.

“It was… perfect,” she replied defensively.

Of course, ye’d judge a good meal harshly. I bet ye have meat whenever ye want. I bet ye’ve never had to struggle.

He shrugged. “If ye’re finished cleanin’ the bowl, we should rest. If the storm passes, we’ll leave early in the mornin’. I’ve wasted enough time on this excursion.”

He signaled to the innkeeper, who had been watching them nervously, that they were ready to be shown to their chambers. Meanwhile, Katie tried not to show that his words had affected her, schooling her features into what she hoped was cool indifference.

I’m nae happy about this either, ye… great, big grouch.

Katie brought up the rear as the innkeeper led them through the parlor and up a rickety set of steps, so narrow that Hector and the older woman had to walk sideways. There was just one door at the top, but Katie thought nothing of it, expecting it to open into a landing or a hallway of some kind.

As such, when the door opened into a single room with one bed, a fireplace, and not much else, and the innkeeper announced, “Well, this is it,” Katie’s jaw dropped.