Page 21 of The Thief (Castle Blackstone #3)
Kate, on her side, a leg resting between his, nuzzled into his neck as her fingers toyed with the fine hairs on his chest. In a breathy whisper she asked, “Did you really mean it?”
He rubbed a fine hurdie. “That I love you?”
She nodded.
“Aye, I do mean it.” God help him. “May I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“What did you mean when you said Lady Beth and her bairns were to die? By what means?”
Kate rose up on her elbows and studied his face. He could see that something was at war within her. Love of country verses him? What? He could only pray she would finally speak the truth for he hadn’t the heart to force it out of her.
Without saying a word, she sat up and reached for the wine. After pulling the plug she drank, long and deep, then handed him the bag. “You need to promise that you will never...ever...breathe a word of what I’m about to tell you to anyone...Albany included.”
Ian mentally groaned. He had pledged his fealty to Albany, as James had yet to be crowned. Yet, his declaration of love had been a pledge to Katie. He was a man caught betwixt an anvil and a hammer.
After a minute, hoping he had found a compromise he murmured, “I vow never to divulge your name should you tell me something that I must act upon.”
As she thought on that he quenched his thirst and prayed.
She tapped a stiff finger on his chest, her eyes hard and assessing. “You must promise never to laugh, nor ridicule or in any way denounce me as a person of worth should I make known to you what I see now or at any time in the future.”
Good Lord, he would never consider degrading her in such fashion...well, mayhap laugh should she say something preposterous, which she did tend to do, but...
He made a fist and crossed his arm over his chest. “Aye, I promise.”
Kneeling before him, her hands in her lap, she took a shuddering breath. “Agreed. Well, where to begin? I’ve been like this all my life, as was my mother, her mother and her mother before her. Some being more...more intuitive than others.”
Ian rolled onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow. “How do these visions come to you? ”
“Sometimes in dreams. Those may or may not come true. The worst, the most accurate, are the painful flashes I see when someone takes my hands or hugs me.”
Curiosity got the better of him. “Have you had such visions when I’ve held you?”
She blushed to a pretty shade of rose. “Just one.”
Hmmm. Must have had something to do with his loving on her. “About Lady Beth.” For that was most important.
“I dreamt about her awhile back, when I brought a present to James and he hugged--”
Bham! Bham! “MacKay!”
Kate nearly jumped out of her skin. He patted her leg. “Shhh, ‘tis all right.” To the door he yelled, “What is it, Home?”
“We’re two hours out.”
Shit. Only two hours. “Thank ye.”
Home humphed and walked away. When the footsteps faded, Ian took Kate’s hand and murmured, “Come, lay beside me.”
Kate, apparently still rattled, shivered as she cuddled up against him. He stroked her hip, reveling in her plush swells, and coaxed, “You were saying about Lady Beth.”
“I gave James a present for his birthday and when he hugged me in thanks I saw blood everywhere. Flash after flash, different places, different seasons, death and dying, Lady Beth and her children--she’s going to have another son, by the way—surrounded by fire...And, in every one, James—-grim faced, gloating--holding a bloody sword.” She started to cry. “He is not going to send a henchman, Ian. Oh, there will be an army at his back, but he’s going to take great personal joy in slaying, killing at will.”
He pulled her closer. “And when will this happen?”
“I don’t know, but he appears more a man than hi is at present in my visions. Thicker-boned, long-haired. And his clothing bespeaks a man of wealth, Ian.” She shuddered. “He will be set free and he will seek to punish those he believes betrayed him if he is not turned from his present course. I had no choice but to garner proof that not all have forgotten him. That many do still care. I have to prevent him from growing more embittered, to keep his hate from festering to the point of total madness, where no amount of reason will reach him.”
Kate took his face in her hands and looked deep into his eyes. “Believe me, Ian...he is already well on the way.”
“And I destroyed your proof.”
She nodded and settled against him once again. “I’ll think of something.”
Dare he believe her? They had a cailleach in his clan but he knew little about the man, and he had met two that were fey on his travels--Angus’s Birdi to name one, and a more startling lass he had yet to meet--but none such as Katie claimed to be .
Well, naught that she’d told him had altered his plans. Gregory Campbell would know who received the ransom demand, who had betrayed Scotland.
He stroked Kate’s hip. “I believe you, love. I do.”
She threw her arms about his neck and kissed him soundly. So soundly, in fact, that his waning interest in tupping flared to life with a painful vengeance.
He pushed the hair from her face and found a tear lurking near the bridge of her nose. “Ack, lass, has telling me all this been so hard?”
She nodded. “I’ve not had anyone to share my fears with for so long. I could only complain to Sir Gregory that James was changing and not for the best. When I offered to go to Scotland to try to learn why the ransom hadn’t been paid, to learn who still supported James so I might hold out hope to him, Sir Gregory had jumped at the idea. Oh, I knew he saw me only as a means of contacting his family and to garner coins to make his life easier whilst in prison, but he said that his wife knew all about Scotland’s politics and would provide the answers I sought. He was the one to suggest I go as Robbie’s widow. He provided the brooch.”
Humph! Margaret Campbell had never been interested in anything but furthering her own station and wealth--as too many in Scotland were, unfortunately. And knowing that, Albany had made sure that she remained in isolation with her sister, where she would be lucky if she knew who provided her eggs.
“Lass, I hear tell the Tower is really many towers. ”
“Yes, it’s huge and has seventeen towers in total. James is in what they call the Bell Tower.”
Ian grinned. “Because it has the belfry.”
She blinked in surprise. “Why, yes. However did you know?”
He wiggled a brow. “I didn’t, but it made sense. How often do you visit James now?” Please say at least once a week.
“Once a month or so. As I said he’s grown distant and to be truthful I have a difficult time calling a brash child Your Majesty or Your Royal Highness.”
Once a month. That would still work. She hasn’t been home for nearly a month. “Do you perform nonsense like secret handshakes and words to prove you have a right to go in?”
She grinned, “They used to make me years ago. Now I just show up, and they let me in.”
Very good. One less thing to worry over. “I imagine ‘tis a bit disconcerting at night?”
Kate nodded. “It is. Thankfully, I rarely go after sunset and then usually only to meet Father. The evening guards are more...outspoken than those on day duty, although both can be rather crude.” She shuddered. “Did you know they’ve clipped the wings of their ravens so they can’t fly? Worse, they’ve trained them to fight for sport.”
He had heard the rumors but shook his head and said, “Truly?”
“Yes, and they have a menagerie there. I feel so sorry for the animals. They even have a lion of all things. They keep it in a cage no bigger than seven feet by ten feet, and the poor thing is eight feet long. And they feed it live sheep and such. The gore--” She shuddered again.
He nodded, having no liking for slavery of any sort. Since the topic was causing her distress and she’d already given him the information he needed, he murmured, “Enough of this sad business.”
Ian fingered one on her loose tendrils. “Tell me a tale from your past. A pleasant one.”
“Hmmm.” She thought for a moment, then asked, “Would you like to know how I came to be the youngest woman ever banished from court?”
“You?” Who in their right mind would ban such a luscious wench? The pudpocks were daft.
“Yes. It was May Day, and I was but ten or eleven years. The celebration was in full swing when Father, Mama and I arrived at Windsor. There were jugglers, puppet shows, acrobats, the maypole, of course, and food the likes of which I had never seen.
“Well, I drank more punch than was wise and needed to find the garderobe. En route I spied a handsome couple in a dark corridor. I hadn’t thought much of it. Children at court see all manner of things, and Mama had already explained that all the heaving and huffing was simply the way one made babies. Well, day became night, and we all went into the great hall. Father was going from person to person introducing us. When he stopped before the handsome man he made our introductions. I looked at the fat old woman at the handsome man’s side and said in all innocence and in my best precocious voice, “No, Father, you must be mistaken. That pretty lady in red is his lordship’s ladywife. She’s the one I saw him making a baby with.”
Ian choked on his wine. “You didn’t.”
“Oh, I most certainly did. Needless to say, all eyes turned our way. The duchess turned three shades of white, his lordship blustered, and I got hauled out the door by my ear. I later learned the duchess banished her handsome husband but not before he cleaned out her coffers. Worse, the woman in red was a favorite of Henry’s, who just happened to be close by when I was doing my precocious best. I tell you, all was in wreck and ruin within court for weeks, and I was never allowed back.”
Ian kissed her nose. “Poor Katie, routed and at so tender an age.” He ran a hand over her hurdies and asked the question that had been nibbling at the back of his mind for days. “Lass, have you ever been in love before?”
She blushed and shook her head. “Apparently I intimidate wee men.”
Ian thanked heaven for wee favors. He would have hated to know that there was a man out there who had stolen kisses or who could look at Kate—-even from a distance--and know the man might have run a hand over what his hand now grazed .
“What of you?” she asked. “Do you ever lust to be liege of the clan MacKay?”
He grinned. “Aye, I do lust very much, but ‘twill never happen. I’ll need to develop a clan of my own for the MacKays already have Black Angus and he has a son. When my holding Seabhagnead is finished—-becomes a worthy stronghold—-many years from now, I’ll return to the Highlands and hopefully with many a strong knight in need of someone to serve. ‘Tis my long-held dream.”
He pulled her closer and fondled a breast, bringing the nipple to a taut nub. As he rolled it between his thumb, he asked, “Would you like more to eat?”
With her gaze on his lips, she shook her head. “Not food.”
Good God, I love this woman.
Mindful of her recent deflowering yet feeling her body heat rise, he ran his hand lower still. “Are ye sore down here?”
She licked her lips and again she shook her head. Grand! She was proving to be as lusty as he.
As if to prove his conclusion Kate’s hand glided ever so slowly over his middle, making his muscles contract, and then brushed his swollen shaft. “How is it,” she began, “that I’ve umm...”
“Come?”
“Yes, if that’s the word, yet you have not?”
He smiled and placed his hand over hers, closing her fingers around him. “I’ve been waiting for us to come together in a most special manner, one that would ensure I didn’t get you with child, yet allowed us a very special pleasure.” His hand guided hers, teaching her how to stoke his passion. “Are you willing to let me lead you?”
Her tongue darted across her lower lip.
Hmmm. Hoping she would realize he had no intention of making her do anything she wasn’t comfortable with, he pressed his lips to hers and opened to her, inviting her to explore as she would. She did, and he groaned, thoroughly enjoying her tentative manner.
When she ended the kiss he whispered, “’There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear’.”
She sighed. “John, 4.” Rubbing her leg along his thigh, she began a tentative exploration of his poke of sweeties, which were about to explode. “’Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it.’”
Ah, he did so love her mind. “Song of Solomon, verse eight.” She was telling him aye, proceed .
Throbbing and heart soaring, he rolled onto her and captured her mouth, delving for her soul.
At which point the Sea Witch mysteriously heaved to and the cabin pitched nearly sideways.
“ Ayyyyyy! ”
Kate screeched again and nearly strangled him whilst the fur beneath them slid at breakneck speed across the floor. Ian rolled, curling around Kate a heartbeat before his back slammed into Home’s bed. He grabbed the bedrail, thinking they might be tossed in the opposite direction but relaxed as the ship settled to an even keel.
He brushed the tears from Kate’s cheeks. “Shhhh, you’re fine. All’s well.” He was going to kill Home. “Shhh. Not to worry, shhh.”
Bham! Bham! Bham ! “MacKay!”
Ian covered Kate’s ears and bellowed in Scots, “God’s teeth, Home! Where the hell did ye learn to sail? In a friggin’ piss pot? Ye damn near killed us!” Not to mention ruining a perfect moment.
Home chuckled on the other side of the door. “Sorry. New man at the wheel.” He cleared his throat in an obvious effort to mask laughter. “We had a good tailwind and will be dropping anchor momentarily. Distant sails on the horizon. Best don yer breeches, friend.”
Ian ground his teeth as he heard Home laughing his way up the gangway steps. He uncovered Kate’s ears and lifted her chin. “Are you alright, love?”
Wiping her eyes with the heels of her hands she nodded. “Just startled me...whales, you know. They tip ships all the time and I thought...” She shuddered and dragged in a hitching breath.
Ian helped her rise. “Not whales, love, just an errant seaman.” Who doesn’t know his arse from a hole in the ground, but he would know it soon enough if it meant my having to pound the man’s former into the latter.
Christ’s blood! Kate could have been seriously injured.
He looked about for their clothing. “We had best dress. We’re about to disembark.”
Arms crossed protectively over her breasts, Kate peeked out the portal. “So soon?”
Wondering why she bothered to cover her breasts as he admired her bare hurdies, Ian shook his head and knelt to pull out his hidden stash from under Home’s bed. Women.
When Kate turned she found Ian donned in black breeches and matching long-toed boots. As he held out her gown and slippers, she asked, “Where did you get those?”
“From under Home’s bed. I cannot go about London dressed in my breachen feile now can I, lass. Shouts Highlander .”
“But--”
“I’m coming with you, seeing you safely home.”
Kate’s throat clogged with panic. “ Nay! You will not put yourself at such risk for me. I will not allow it.”
He shrugged into his leather jerkin and reached for his sporran. “You can’t stop me, love.”
She wrenched her gown over her head. “But you’ll be courting disaster.”
He donned a knee-length black tunic, covering his sporran and the six-inch sgian duhb attached to his arm, and pulled a short mail tunic out of the basket. After giving it a shake, he tossed it into the air to straighten out the links. “My lady Templeton, I’ll have you know that I can and will pass any muster, any question, you and yours should put to me, a knight of the realm.”
Kate’s mouth gaped. He’d spoken just as she or her father did--his Highland burr completely gone.
“Oh.” She could not have effectively mimicked his accent had she been threatened with hanging. “But still.”
“Don’t argue woman. Time is not on our side.”
Realizing that no matter how she argued he would do as he pleased, Kate huffed and ran agitated fingers through her hair. “Have you a brush?”
Ian had one in hand. “Here.”
Suspecting it was not his she checked it for lice, just in case, before running it through her hair.
Her hair braided, she opened her mouth to ask if he had seen her lace, and he handed it to her. Ah, exactly how many women had he helped dress that he could anticipate so easily? Or undress, for that matter? Grrrrrr.
He looked her over, nodded his apparent approval and draped her cape over her shoulders. He nuzzled her neck. “You look lovely.”
She didn’t feel the least lovely. She felt achy and lonely and miserable, and he had yet to leave her side...forever. If she felt this miserable now, there was simply no telling what kind of pain the morrow would bring.
And brokenhearted, she would still have to deal with her father, James and Sir Gregory. How easy it would be to simply drop to the cabin floor and wail as her heart wanted, but should she, Ian would doubtless insist on bringing her right up to the Tower gates, which would not do at all.
Ian led her on deck where they found a dingy bobbing beside the galleon and, at some distance, acres of marsh and beach. Kate went to the rail. Her England, her land, yet nothing looked the least familiar. She nibbled her lower lip as she looked from left to right. She had absolutely no idea where she was, or how far from London they were. Odder still she would have to trust that Ian did.
When Home came to stand beside her, she murmured, “Thank you.”
He took her hand and kissed her fingertips. “My pleasure, m’lady. Any friend of Ian’s is a friend of mine.”
“May I ask where we are?”
“Just north of Blackwater.”
“Oh. Lovely.” Wherever that was.
Realizing Ian had left her side she looked over her shoulder and found him next to the helmsman. Whatever he said caused the man—-a boy, really—-to blanch to the color of the reefed sails above their heads.
Ian returned to her side and held his hand out to Home, “Be careful, my friend.”
Home muttered, “Aye, and Godspeed to ye.”
As Ian threw his leg over the rail, Home placed a hand on Ian’s arm, halting him. Keeping his voice low, he grumbled, “And, MacKay, given what I heard from below, if ye ever so much as glance at my Iona I’ll cut yer heart out.”
Ian grinned at Kate. “Dinna fash, friend.”
Kate, feeling heat rush up her neck, groaned and caught several of the sailors grinning at her. Lauds, everyone apparently knew what she and Ian had been doing in the cabin. Augh!
So where were those damn whales when a woman needed one?
~#~
London. Ian hated the place. It stank, it was crowded, and it held his king. Five years back he’d spent the height of summer here, posing as a mercenary knight and had never been so miserable in his life. Moreover he’d sworn never to return, yet here he was again.
Standing in the shadow of Greyfriar’s Christ Church, a massive edifice of gaily glittering glass, Ian pulled Kate to his side, so that a near-to-buckling ale wagon being pulled by two oxen could ease past. Once clear, he took Kate’s elbow and pointed to a pile of steaming dung. “Watch where you step.”
They continued south, heading toward the Thames and Kate’s apartment. Passing a multi-stalled stable, Ian murmured, “Lass, wait here. I’ll be right back.”
He slipped past the dozing stable lad and began inspecting the cattle in each stall. Finding an aged black destrier with hair as dark as Katie’s, he slipped his sgian duhb from his forearm and ran a hand down the once-mighty charger’s side. “My apologies, laddie, I wouldn’t be doing this to you if I hadn’t a real need.” He lifted the destrier’s massive tail, felt for the bone, and just below it, started sawing.
Two minutes later he stood before Kate. “Ready, my dear?”
At the area she called the Strand, Kate pointed left. “This way.”
Ahead stood massive homes of brick and he pondered how much her father must earn to live in such a fashionable place. He was surprised when they turned right again and entered a narrow lane of buttressing buildings of caulk and brick with thatched roofs. She continued on, passing three churches and came to an even-narrower, twisting way. She took his hand. “We’re here. The third house. Come.”
Not the least anxious to meet Hugh Dupree Templeton after deflowering the man’s unmarried daughter, Ian asked, “Will your father be here?”
She shrugged. “Given the hour, I’m not sure. He may be at board at a public house.”
As if on cue, bells atop a dozen churches let loose, all bonging at different pitches, making it difficult to count the hour. He settled on the deepest. Six. So three more to go before he could enter the Tower.
Kate climbed the narrow stairs ahead of him, stopping at the second landing. She pushed on the door latch and frowned. “Father’s not home.” She reached above the door. Key in hand, she turned the lock.
The moment Kate closed the door, she took one look at the narrow, darkly paneled room that apparently served as their living area, and gasped.
Books and pamphlets were everywhere, a man’s tunic had been thrown on the floor and the table was littered with moldy trenchers and a tipped tankard, and in a bowl sat shriveled and rotting fruit. Kate threw open the shutters and looked about, hands on her hips. “It’s not normally like this.” She placed her hand on a kettle sitting on a shelf and heaved a sigh. “It’s still warm. He must have just left.”
She pulled out a stool. “Make yourself at ease while I see if Mr. Boots is still around.”
“We can meet another time.” Focused as he was on how he could possibly say good bye, he had absolutely no interest in exchanging banal remarks with her grey-headed admirer.
Kate entered the doorway to his left. When she returned she was grinning and holding a huge, scruffy grey cat with half an ear, four white paws and a wide white blaze down its muzzle. She rubbed her face against its fur. “Ian, please make the acquaintance of Mr. Boots.”
“A cat?” Ian laughed, couldn’t believe he had wasted hours ruminating over a friggin’ cat. “How do you do, Mr. Boots.”
Kate dropped the furry beast into his lap. “You two get acquainted, and I’ll find something for us to eat.”
Whilst Kate routed around and sniffed this and that for freshness, Ian sat straight, his hands on his knees, and stared at the yellow eyes glaring up at him. When the cat started kneading his leg with its claws extended, Ian snatched him up by the scruff and whispered, “I was being nice for her sake.”
The cat hit the floor with a yowl. Kate turned to see what was amiss, and Ian muttered, “I think he’s hungry.”
“I don’t doubt it. Father often forgets to feed himself, much less Mr. Boots. At least there’s a fresh loaf so Father has been up and about as usual.”
Ian frowned. “Did you have reason to think he might not have been?”
Kate placed the bread along with a crock of honey and a flask of wine before him. “I’ve had a frightening dream. I didn’t see a face but somehow knew it was Father.” She then shrugged and took the seat opposite him. “Thank heaven a dream is often just a dream.”
Ian reached for her hands. “Love, I need--”
Kate’s stomach heaved and she pressed a hand to his lips.
Not yet, please, dear God, not yet. I don’t think I can bear hearing him say God’s speed.
He kissed her fingertips and grinned. “I was merely wondering if you had some twine.”
Kate blinked. “Oh. Of course.”
Merciful saint’s, she had to get a handle on herself and her fear. But how? The moment when he would kiss her good-bye forever was almost upon her.
She rose on shaking legs and reached above the wooden pantry for her what-not basket. Twine in hand she turned and found Ian standing, a pained look on his countenance. Oh, no, he had asked for twine to distract her. It fell from her hand as blinding pain seared her chest and tears flooded her eyes. “No.”
“Aye, lass.” He came to her then and wrapped his arms about her. His lips pressed her forehead as his hands swept over her back. In a hoarse tone, he whispered, “I do love you so very much, Katie. I never thought I would love, had nay hope of it until you came.”
She couldn’t breathe. Oh, dear God, how was she to live now without him? She certainly did not want to. She slid her arms about his neck and clung tight, wishing she could get inside his very skin so that when he left he would have no choice but to take her with him.
“I, too,” she whispered. “I do so love you...more than you’ll ever know.”
He took in a shuddering breath and gently removed her arms from his neck.
Seeing tears glazing his eyes, knowing he was vulnerable, the urgent desire to drop to her knees and beg him to remain overwhelmed her. But understanding only too well why he could not, she began to sob.
“Oh, lass.” He clutched her to him again. “I do not want to leave you, either.” He lifted her chin so he could look in her eyes. “Someday they will be peace and when that day comes, I promise I’ll come for you.” He kissed her, hard and deep, imparting some of the anguish he apparently felt.
Kate responded in kind for it was all she had left to her. This one final kiss that would have to last them a lifetime for, as hopeful as his promise was, she knew in her heart that the conflict betwixt their countries would never end. England and Scotland would never be at peace. Never had, never would be.
Too soon, he took a deep, shuddering breath and gently eased her away. After clearing his throat he murmured, “There’s something I would like you to have.” His hand slipped beneath the top of his wide brass belt.
Kate swallowed convulsively in an effort to silence her sobs and clutched her hands before her, else she throw them about his neck again. She would not make this more difficult for him. Ian could ill afford the distraction of knowing he had left her shattered and wailing her heart out. He had too great a distance to travel before he’d be safe at home again.
Tugging the strings on a small leather pouch, he murmured, “I hope you like it.”
Kate gasped, seeing a large sterling and amethyst cross and chain in Ian’s palm. “Oh, my word...It’s magnificent, but when, how?”
He grinned, flashing his dimples at her, mayhap for the last time. “Would you believe I’ve been carrying this, intending to give it to you since before you conked me over the head?”
“Oooh, Ian.” Despite her resolve, tears started streaming down her cheeks again. He had cared for her deeply even then. And they’d wasted so many hours, days...
He opened the clasp and put it around her neck. “It belonged to my mother and her mother before her.” He took her shaking hands in his and brought them to his lips. “As the eldest son ‘tis mine to give to my intended.”
Kate leaned into him, taking the time to savor his warm musky scent and strength for the last time. “I shall wait, if need be, forever.”
He let loose her hands and wrapped his arms about her and squeezed. “And I for you.”
Fire burned beneath Ian’s breastbone as he brushed the flood from Kate’s cheeks. He would find his way back to her. As soon as he knew who had deceived his people and then set the matter to rights, he would return. “One last kiss, love, and then I must go.”
He found solace in the way Kate melted against him as their lips met, matching him ragged breath for ragged breath. He threaded his fingers through her hair, memorizing the feel, unable to let go of her just yet.
The door suddenly swung open.
Kate squealed, “Father! ”
Hugh Dupree Templeton—tall, thin and bald--stood in the doorway, looking from his red-eyed daughter to Ian. “What is the meaning of this? And who are you ?”
Kate dashed the tears from her cheeks. “Fa—Father, may I present--” She looked at Ian with horror in her eyes.
Ian bowed. “Sir John Goodman of Hawks Nest, sir.”
Templeton, his brow furrowed, eyed Ian from head to toe. “Hawks Nest. Never heard of it.” He looked at Kate. “I thought you were staying in Salisbury for three months. And why are you crying?”
Ian slipped an arm about Kate’s waist. “She’s crying because I put the cart before the horse, sir. I’ve just asked Kate for her hand and she said yes, pending your approval.”
“Well now.” Templeton, his surprise evident, looked at Kate. “Did you, in fact, say yes?”
Kate nodded, her fingers wrapping about the cross. Templeton tossed his cape in the general direction of the wall hooks. As the cape fell to the floor he muttered, “I see. And what have you there?” He pointed to Kate’s hands.
Nibbling at the corner of her mouth she murmured, “A gift...from Sir John.”
Templeton closed the distance between them to better examine the cross. “Humph.” He then turned to Ian. “You’re a knight?”
“Yes, sir. Earned my spurs at the age of twelve.”
“So you have the wherewithal to care properly for her? A roof to put over her head?”
“Yes, sir, I do.” In truth, not exactly, but before he returned he would see to it that Seabhagnead did indeed have a roof.
“Alright, then. You can have her.” To Kate he said, “I’m starved.”
Ian had all he could do to keep from decking the man. No hello, no good to have you home, Kate , much less a kiss for his daughter who had been worrying over him for the last week. Ack!
Heart aching for her, now knowing why she hadn’t bothered to tell her father anything prior to heading for Scotland, Ian pulled Kate close after Templeton vanished into a back room. “I hate that I have to leave you now, but I must.”
Kate, her lips and hands trembling, patted his chest. “I’ll see you to the main road.”
Before she could take a step, her father shouted, “Katie! When will we sup?”
I’d best leave before I kill him.
“Nay, lass, ‘twill be hard enough as it is. Tend to your father. Just remember that I love you beyond measure.”
He kissed Kate a final time, then turned her by the shoulders. Giving her a pat on her hurdies, he sent her forward to do her father’s bidding. His heart heavy in his chest, Ian slipped out the door, taking Kate’s cape as he went.