"Just as you did not seduce me? No fists, now," he said, feinting with a hand. "You have better manners than that. I would appreciate an honest answer, not a display of your temper."
She looked away in silence, more frightened than fuming. "I remember clearly the night I encountered Grant," she said in a low voice. "He treated me roughly, quite overcome with ... lust. I feared that I would not get away unharmed."
His fingers flexed on her arm. "Go on."
"I defended myself. I struggled, then I planted my knee in his ... trousers before fleeing the tent. He was so drunk that he fell, hit his head, and collapsed to the floor. I suppose he blamed all of that on the wicked Katie Hell."
"As a matter of fact, he did."
"I did nothing to that man, I tell you."
He was silent for a long moment as they traversed another hillock, the breeze blowing hard against them on the ridee. "Had I been there and seen that—"
"Then you might believe what I'm saying now?" "No. I'm saying I might have killed the man." She glanced at him, astonished, even pleased. "Then you do believe me. I do not seduce men, though they may say it of me."
"Kate, whatever you have done or have not done is not proven—and if it remains so, that is in your favor, for it is a legitimate verdict under Scots law," he added. "But if Grant and other officers identify you as the girl who came to their quarters and took papers and maps, your denials will do no good. As for seduction, I only know for certain that something happened between us." He pulled her along with him.
She could not deny that something had occurred between them, and she cherished the memory of it. "I cannot help it if—" She touched her throat, where her silver necklace was still missing. No one beyond her family knew of her inherited fairy power. "I sometimes have an effect on men," she ventured.
He huffed. "I know all about that. Come ahead." He urged her onward, righting her when she nearly stumbled.
"I see trying to explain myself to you would be futile." "You do not have to explain that part of it. I know what happened with us, and I would guess you've been in that... predicament before, Miss Hell." "What happened with you—was different." He stopped, turned her toward him. "What do you mean?"
"I have never ... done that before," she admitted.
He frowned down at her. "Do you tell all of them that?"
She sucked in a breath, feeling as if she had been slapped this time. "I am not a harlot."
"Then who are you, and what is your business with officers?"
She looked away, heart slamming. "I cannot tell you."
"Whoever you are," he growled, "what happened between us in my bed should be forgotten."
She glanced up then. "Forgotten?"
"It has no bearing here and now. It's best for both of us if it is forgotten." He resumed walking, shouldering his satchel and tugging her beside him. "As for Grant— I warn you, he is not the sort to forgive and forget."
"Unlike you," she drawled.
"Unlike me." He said it so calmly that Kate felt a little swirl of stubborn defiance. Planting her feet, she refused to move. Alec turned.
"Katie my lass," he said, as he groped inside the satchel and drew out the chains and manacles. "Come with me now, or you'll come along in chains."
"Just leave me. I will be fine and off your hands."
"I will not leave you anywhere that Grant's men can find you," he said firmly.
"Why not? Either way I'll end up going to prison!"
"You do not want to go that way, if you take my meaning."
She scowled at him. "I take it."
"Good. Now what do you choose?"
"If I have no choice but to go with you, I'll want my
necklace, please." She opened her hand. "I'll bargain my cooperation for that."
"Something tells me I could get the poor end of a bargain with Katie Hell," he murmured.
"Take that chance." Kate knew that she was taking the greater risk. She often felt bespelled in this man's presence, yet Alec seemed capable of resisting any charm she might have—but for one night she could not forget as easily as he could.
Dipping a hand into his sporran, he opened his palm to show her a moonlit pool of silver and crystal. Kate reached out, but he closed his fingers over the necklace and over her hand.
"I wish this wee bauble was all the chain you'd ever need, Kate." His voice was quiet.
She felt her knees go weak. "Give me my necklace, sir."
"I have no desire to put irons on you, but I don't want to have to bargain continually either. I have to trust you to come with me. But my guess is that you'd leave first chance." He stated it quietly, as fact.
Kate sighed. "I would."
"An honest answer. I'll keep the bauble as an assurance of your good behavior. I've nothing else to bargain with."
She gazed up at him, heart pounding, breaths fast. He had so much to bargain with, she thought. Had he bargained a kiss such as he had given her before, her resistance might dissolve.
He leaned so close, nearly nose to nose with her, that for a moment she thought he might kiss her as he had done before, and she impulsively craved it. like a
hunger rising fast in her. Tilting her head back, she waited, and her wildest thought was to allow it, to revel in it, to let that erase the threats and stress she felt otherwise. She half closed her eyes.
"Later, darling." He dropped the necklace into his sporran. "I think we will not gamble like this just yet."
She blew out a breath, trying to shake off the effect he had on her, the subtle, powerful influence that made the blood rush in her veins. "The inn is this way?" She strode past him, limbs trembling.
Fraser caught up with her and took her hand to guide her through a cluster of trees. "I warn you to behave yourself, lass. No escaping, no arguing, no slapping or punching your custodial officer."
"You're crediting me with evil thoughts." She lifted her chin in defiance, shook her hand loose, though the contact felt dangerously pleasant.
"Have all the evil thoughts you like. Just keep them to yourself."
"I'll consider it."
"Good. Give me your word on it, one Highlander to another."
"Highlander? You're but a Lowland officer in a plai-die."
"I'm a captain in Lovat's independent company, and I'm considered a Highlander by all but you, apparently."
"You live in Edinburgh, you're a red soldier, and likely a Whig. You insist on keeping my personal property when you've no right to it, which is not the natural courtesy of most Highland men. A Highland oath would mean little to vou."
"I was born and raised in Inverness-shire, spoke Gaelic until I was given knee breeches, have worn the plaid all my life," he said, "and oaths mean all to me."
She returned his gaze, breath quickening as she wished she could believe him. When she had first seen him at St. James's Palace, he had looked like a magnificent Highland warrior. That day, she had fallen a little in love with him—but since then, he had proven himself other than what she thought.
"If you were a true Highlander, you'd be Jacobite."
"Not necessarily so. The Am Freiceadan Dubh, the Black Watch as we are sometimes called, police our own—which is what I'm attempting to do now," he said wryly. "We are not a Jacobite faction, but a goodwill extension of cooperation between Scots and the crown."
"Many will say we should not be cooperating with them at all. And I'll make no oaths with a man I cannot trust."
"You can trust me, you just do not know it. I'll have your promise, or it's chains with locks for you." He shifted the satchel, chains chinking inside.
"That's not amusing."
"It's not meant to be. I'll have your word, now." His voice deepened from teasing to somber.
"Only until we reach the inn. And only because I'm starving and tired."
"I'm sure you are." He walked beside her, his hand on her elbow, leaves crushing underfoot, the air moist and cool. "So we'll call it a tr
uce."
"For now," she warned.
Chapter 11
M
oonlight bathed the inn as Alec led Kate toward the stone two-story building. Windows glowed with warm light through red curtains, and a tin lantern burned on a hook beside the door. To the left Alec heard sounds from the stables behind the inn: horses snorting, a groom calling out. He doubted Jack Mac-Donald would be here yet, and he only hoped the fellow was safe.
Glancing at Kate, he reached down to pull up the plaid arisaid she wore to cover her blond hair. She was too noticeable, Alec thought, with hair like a lantern flame. Luckily, her lightweight, silk-lined plaid was long enough to cover her from crown to knee.
"Best if you're not easily recognized," he explained as he opened the door. Guiding her inside, he ignored the glare she sent him, knowing very well she did not want to be with him, and he certainly understood her need to be free.
Her gaze caught his, and for a moment he saw uncertainty beneath her rebellious frown. Setting a hand on her shoulder, he leaned close to murmur at her ear. "I promise no one will know you're my prisoner so long as you behave. Agreed?"
She nodded, and her next glance tugged at his heart again.
The main room was dim, smoky from candles and tobacco, and filled with voices, music, and the savory smells of good food. Near the fireside, an old man played a fiddle, the plaintive tones wafting outward. Scarred tables and benches were arranged throughout the room, occupied by men and a few women.
Alec quickly saw that some of the men wore coats and breeches and spoke English, while the rest were Highlanders in bulky plaids. He saw with relief that there were no soldiers present.
"Keep quiet, and please keep your head down," he told Kate.
Hearing his name called, Alec turned. Behind a high counter, the gray-haired owner, James MacLennan, raised a hand in greeting. Beside him stood his daughter, a pretty, dark-haired young woman holding a swaddled infant against her shoulder. Seeing Alec, she smiled and hurried toward him.
"Miss MacLennan. ereetines." Alec removed his
cocked hat, still keeping a firm hand on Kate's slender shoulder. His prisoner was silent, tucking her head in the shadow of her plaid. Jean glanced toward her curiously.
"Welcome back, Captain Fraser. And welcome to you, Miss—"
"Jean MacLennan—meet Kate," Alec said, while Kate mumbled a greeting in return.
Jeanie smiled, her pink cheeks, glossy black hair, and dark eyes all sparkle and warmth. All the while, she patted the infant, a squirming bundle on her shoulder. "Is Mr. MacDonald with you, sir?"
"He'll join us later this evening. We had a slight mishap with our carriage and walked here ahead of him. 'Twill take him some time to repair the, ah, damage." He smiled. "Your little one is doing well, I hope." He could not recall what gender the creature was, or its name, though he had been introduced to it during a visit two months earlier. It had been newborn then, he remembered.
He hoped Jack remembered, the thorough rascal.
"Oh, aye. He smiles now, and sleeps through most nights," she said proudly, while the child whimpered. "He won't keep you up the night this time, Captain Fraser."
Kate looked squarely at Alec and lifted a brow.
"I generally hire the room above Jean's," he explained.
"We have that room ready for you tonight, Captain. I'll tell Father." Jean hastened across the room to speak with the innkeeper, who tapped ale from a keg into a pewter pitcher. The man turned to grin as Alec annroached.
"Welcome, Captain. Will you be hiring another room for the lady?" he asked.
Kate began to speak, and Alec squeezed her shoulder. "One will do ... for my wife and me," he said impulsively, knowing he could not chance putting Kate in a separate room. Kate jerked her shoulder under his hand in protest.
"Wife?" The innkeeper looked astonished, while Jean gaped at Alec, who only smiled.
"Bride," he corrected. "We've just been wed."
"Only just," Kate muttered.
"So it's Mrs. Fraser, then! Congratulations," Jean said brightly, patting her infant son. Her father handed her a key. "Come this way. Will you take the lantern for us, Captain?"
Alec took the glowing lantern MacLennan handed him, and he and Kate followed Jean up a flight of wooden steps to the second floor, and onward to the corner room that Alec usually hired on his trips back and forth between Edinburgh and Fort William. Opening the narrow, creaking door, Jean stepped back, soothing the baby again, who squawked and quieted.
"I changed the bed linens a week ago," Jean said. "No one has slept here but either you or Jack MacDon-ald. And most of the time he keeps company elsewhere. It's three shillings more to change the linens, as you know, sir."
"These will do," he said, though Kate made a choking sound. "Can you provide some supper for us? I know it's past nine, but my wife is famished." Kate
would need a decent meal after several days in prison, he knew, and he could do with something himself.
"My father would tell you to take bread and cheese tonight, and wait for bacon to be thrown on the griddle after dawn. But there's mutton stew left, and half a loaf of brown bread. I'll fix that up for you both and have it ready for you downstairs."
"Thank you." Alec fished a few coins from his jacket pocket.
"Will Jack MacDonald want a meal and bed when he returns?"
"I'm sure of it," Alec answered, "though he may not arrive until morning."
"I'll watch for him. Oh, we also have new casks of ale and a good Spanish rum. Captain, and Mrs. Fraser," she added as she turned to go. Alec held the door open for her.
"We'll be down directly." He steered Kate into the room, then slipped Jean the coins, which she fisted against her child's swaddling.
When he turned, shutting the door, Kate was staring at the bed. "I am not sleeping there."
Two steps took him to the bed, where Alec sat on the mattress, which sagged and groaned beneath him. He patted the lumpy surface. "It's comfortable. I've slept here often."
"So I gather." She folded her arms.
"If you're thinking I'll take advantage of you while we're alone, don't worry. You're perfectly safe." While he craved another night of delight with her in his arms,
he could not allow that to happen. "I give you my word."
She frowned, brows tight, her gray-blue eyes like captured moonlight. Then she lifted her chin. "You can hire another room."
"I'm frugal. We'll share this one. I'll sleep on the floor."
"I'll sleep there. The bed linens are old, and used."
"As you heard, I'm the only one who's slept here," he pointed out. "Perhaps Jack once or twice."
"And who knows who else!" She wrinkled her nose.
"I hire the room out for a month or more at a time, since I travel back and forth to Fort William rather frequently."
"You gave the lass a coin, but did not ask for fresh linens, nor even another blanket."
"I gave her the coin to keep for herself, not to pay for services, since she turns every penny over to her father. And I will not ask her to do extra work for one short night's rest here. You've just spent days in a prison cell. I would think this would seem a Pasha's paradise after that."
"I was raised to certain standards."
"Oh? A gentle upbringing, I assume. And where was it that you were raised?" He cocked a brow.
"At home, with clean linens on my own bed." She glowered at him. "As long as we are here, I'd like a bath. A private one."
He stood and looked down at her. "You can be a fine, spoiled, wee thing when you get a notion in your head. So the mysterious Miss Hell apparently had a privi-leeed unbrineine."
"I just need a bath, not an interrogation. I'm tired."
"I understand that. At this hour, you'll have to make do. I won't ask Jean to heat water and climb the stairs to fill a hip tub for you. She has enough to do, and a small babe to care for, and no husband. Her father runs her ragged as it is. He's been no less
demanding of her since the babe's birth."
"Is she not wed? Whose babe is it... yours? Perhaps you should sleep with her instead and leave me here," she suggested.
"The babe is not mine, I promise you. It's Jack's." He set his hat on the bed, ruffled a hand through his hair, rubbed his eyes. God, he thought, he was more weary than he realized. He wanted to take off his jacket and just go to sleep. But the enticing thought of resting in that bed with Kate gave him more than a moment's pause.
Potentially a very dangerous night, he thought.
Kate watched him. "So Jack MacDonald is the father?"
"The girl refuses to say, though I'm sure of it. And Jack would marry her, I think. He's fond of the lass, but he's not inclined to settle down. Jean has not pressed for it, either."
"Perhaps she loves him that much," Kate said quietly. "Enough to give him his freedom."
He paused to glance at her. "I suppose that's it. She's a decent lass. No one holds it against her that she got with child before marriage. We Scots are very good about tolerating missteps within families. How does your family tolerate your, ah, wild ways?"
"Fine, since it was their idea." She clapped a hand to her mouth. "I mean—"
"Aha," he said simultaneously. "So you admit to a wee bit of mischief."
"Any mischief I have committed was mostly with you." Kate folded her arms. "I can easily understand how Jean got into her dilemma. Jack MacDonald is a true charmer."
"Is he? I suppose so. What of me?"
"Chaining women is not very engaging." She turned to look around the room. "Tell me, will Jack accept responsibility for his child?"
"Jack acknowledges it, but taking responsibility is another matter." Alec shrugged.
"Then do you trust him to return with the carriage?"
"Don't look so hopeful. He'll be here. Jack keeps his word, once given. But in the matter of ladies, he can be a fickle soul and avoids giving his word like the plague. As for your bath," he went on, "there's a basin and pitcher in that corner, where you can wash up." He indicated a table that held a large ceramic pitcher and a wide bowl. "We can ask for hot water later. If I know Jean, what's there now is clean, and the towels will be fresh, too. I pay an extra fee to have clean towels and plenty of soap and water on hand—though I'm not so particular about bed linens, since I'm hardly here to use them, and the room is not hired out otherwise."
Sarah Gabriel - Keeping Kate Page 10
