Davey tapped on the wood. "Mistress? Ye're quiet."
"I'm just... Davey, could you fetch me some food? I am hungry, and thirsty, too."
This might be her only chance to get free of this place and run to Duncrieff to warn her brother. If her kinsmen had found out what Cameron tried to tell her, two of them might be the men who had just been arrested.
"Sure, I'll bring you summat. We've hot chocolate drink, too, Jeanie made a pot not long ago. Would ye like some?"
"I would love some," she said, distracted by her thoughts.
"It's Fraser's Fancy Cocoa," he said, sounding pleased.
"I'm sure it is," she answered. "Thank you, Davey. You're a gentleman."
"Thank ye. I'll be back. YeTl be safe alone for a few minutes, Mistress?"
"How could I get past a locked door?" she asked sweetly.
Davey laughed in agreement, and she heard his footsteps pounding down the steps. Then she dropped to her knees to examine the lock once more, peering through the keyhole.
She could see the shadowed upper hallway, and at a certain angle, a gleam of light from below, where she also could hear the sounds of men laughing in the tavern. Someone called for another ale, and she heard Jeanie call out an answer.
The mechanism of key and handle was simple enough, but she had nothing at all with which to try the lock. She wished she had saved the fork from the night before. Hearing footsteps, she stepped back. A key was inserted from the other side, and the door swung open.
A lanky youth with a wild shock of rust red hair stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He carried a covered dish in one hand and a cup in the other. He smiled, his fair skin blushing, his brown eyes sparkling.
"Och, Mistress Fraser," he said. "You're younger than I thought. And ... bonny."
"You're bonny yourself," she answered, accepting the cup of cocoa. "Thank you so much."
"Och," he sputtered. He held out the covered dish nervously, almost dropping it. He was clumsy as a colt, stepping on his own big boot, lurching forward to catch the dish as it toppled.
She scooned it out of his hands before it hit the floor.
"Thank you," she said, and set it carefully on a small table.
"I'm sorry you must be in here, Mistress," Davey said. "Perhaps Captain Fraser doesna appreciate his Highland bride."
"I'm sure he does. We'll clear this spat up soon enough," she said brightly.
"I'm Highland, too," Davey said. "I'm for Jamie o'er the water m'self, Mistress, though I darena say it around here."
"I understand. And it's so nice to have a brave Scottish lad to look after me in this place."
"Och, aye." He watched her earnestly, with an innocence and guile that reminded her of a puppy. His big brown eyes lowered, then lifted as he looked at her and blushed even deeper.
She took up the cup of chocolate and sipped. It was hot and thick, though quite bitter, with very little sweetening added to it. She could barely swallow it, but did her best.
"Thank you, Davey." She knew she had him—she could tell by the wide, limpid gaze, the slight droop of his lower lip, the hot flush in his skin. He was really very young, and she felt a small qualm not wanting to mislead him.
This had happened before, with young men especially. She need only smile, say something friendly, and they swam in like fish to the bait. She rather liked the lonely puppyish sorts and was kind to them she avoided other types—men with an edge to them and no need for affection and men who wanted onlv to sat-
isfy their sexual hunger. She could charm them, too, with a look or a tilt of the head, but she kept away because of the risk. Francis Grant had been one of those, but she had gotten free of him.
Alec was neither yearning nor needy, and she found his solitariness and restraint compelling. But she would not think of him now, she told herself.
She smiled at Davey MacLennan and saw him blink. He was the adoring sort, an easy snare, so very young. She glanced away, almost asked him to leave, wanting to let him loose gracefully. She knew how easily lads his age fell, how easily they felt foolish. But with Davey to watch her, she had a real chance to slip away from the inn.
Touching the stone at her throat, she smiled at him.
"Go ahead and eat, Mistress," he said. "You look pale. The food is verra good, I had some of the stew earlier."
She smiled again and sat on the bed, the only seat in the room besides one simple wooden chair. Davey went red to the roots of his carroty hair when she chose the bed. Uncovering the dish, she broke off a bit of the steaming pie with her fingers and ate it quickly, dipped her fingers for a little more, then licked her fingertips and looked at him. He watched her with a strange expression, as if he had turned to a half-wit.
"It's very good," she said, "but there's too much for me. Will you finish the rest?"
"I canna. I should go." He stepped back toward the door and put his hand on the doorknob.
"Oh, Davey." She sighed. "I could use some fresh air. Will you walk outside with me?"
"Captain Fraser would have me head if ye left this room."
"He won't be angry at me when he returns, I'm sure. And I do so want to apologize as soon as I see him. I'd like to wait for him outside."
"He'd like that," Davey said, watching as Kate dabbed her lips with the linen napkin he had handed her with the dish.
She stood. "You go downstairs, then, Davey. I do not want to get you into trouble. I'll remember you for a kind friend."
He hesitated. "I could finish the pie."
"If you like." She handed him the dish, and he began to scoop his way eagerly through the remaining food.
A glance through the window showed her that it was late, nearly sunset. She did not have much time. Alec would be back.
"Thank heaven!" she said, turning away from the window. "I just saw my husband returning!" She felt awful about that, for she had not seen him. And she liked Davey.
"He did say he'd return by end o' day. I'd better go." Davey paused. "But if ye'd like to greet him, I suppose I could walk ye outside, if he's just there on the road."
"That would be so kind." She picked up her plaid shawl and wrapped it around her, then went to the door, rising on tiptoe to kiss the tall lad's cheek. "You are a true friend."
"I am?" he asked, and opened the door for her as Kate hurried past him and down the stairs.
Halting his horse along the road, Alec sat and stared in disbelief as Kate crossed the road away from the inn, boldly and openly. She had not even waited for cover of darkness. Stunned, he simply watched as she headed in the same direction as last night. The little vixen had not bothered to vary her route, he noticed.
Shaking his head, he lifted the reins, urging the mare to a fast canter. He would have to go after her. The temptation to just let her go flashed through his mind—but he could not. She knew something about those Spanish weapons, he was sure, and he had to find out what.
He watched her for another moment. Well, at least if he lost track of her this time, he would know where to find her—with the MacCarrans. Some inquiry, here and there, would lead him straight to the glen and castle where her kinsmen no doubt waited for her.
Frowning, he thought about what sort of kinsmen would let the lass face the sort of risks Kate had taken. But until she trusted him with more information in that regard, he should not make judgments.
But he had to go after her. He urged his horse forward.
He had ridden as far as the next large town to find some trace of Jack and inquire about recent arrests. Aye, he was told at an inn there, two Highlanders had been taken near Edinburgh and whisked off to the castle. One of them was said to be a MacCarran.
Somehow he had expected that. Ridine on. he had
searched for sight or news of Jack MacDonald without success. Finally, on his way back to MacLennan's Changehouse, he had found the man himself at a private estate no more than two hours east of MacLennan's.
First Alec assured himself that Jack was fin
e: the chaise had collapsed in a ditch and Jack had taken a bad knock to the head, finding help and hospitality nearby but neglecting to send word, which was only typical of him. After securing Jack's earnest promise to follow quickly, Alec had started back to the change-house, anxious to return. He knew he had left Kate too long under makeshift guard.
Now he knew just how busy she had been that day. Next time, he vowed, he would set a dozen old women to watch her.
As he rode closer, he saw Davey MacLennan walk out into the yard, looking baffled as he turned in circles. Alec urged the horse forward into the yard as the lad spun again.
"Hello, Davey," he said calmly. "Did she get away?"
"Och, sir! I'm so sorry—I know ye wanted Mrs. Fraser to stay here and wait nicely for ye."
"Aye, your grandmother and great-aunt were to watch after her. What happened?" Alec waited, hands folded on the saddle.
"They grew weary and asked me to watch out for her. She's a fine lass, your wife. She said she wanted to meet ye out here and give you her sweetest apology. And now I dinna ken where she's gone. She's disappeared!"
Alec nodded. "You did a fine job to keep her as long as vou did. I'll fetch her. Go on inside, lad." He tossed
Davey a gold guinea, then chucked to the horse and cantered across the road toward the moor.
Sweet apology indeed, he thought.
Moments later, Alec saw Kate as she topped a low hill. He followed at an easy pace, for she was but half a mile ahead. The sun spilled glorious color through the sky as it sank behind the hills; in that glow, Kate's hair, slipping loose of its knots as usual, shone like pale bronze.
And Jean's red gown was as bright as a flag. Bless Jean and Providence, he thought, for making his life that much easier.
He saw Kate walking in the open, where the grass stretched over gentle swells to the rim of a hill. She glanced back then and, seeing him, broke into a run.
Riding steadily, Alec soon pulled near her, and she raced faster, hair and skirts whipping like banners in the wind. He leaned hard from the stirrups, precariously low, and reached out to scoop her around the middle with one outstretched arm. Though she flailed like an albatross, nearly pulling him from his horse, he managed to drag her upward and dump her over his lap. Then he clamped an arm around her middle, and turned the horse.
"Oh, no you don't," he grunted, as she almost wriggled away. He snugged his arm tight around her, trapping her arms under his, while he handled the reins in his left hand. He had planted her firmly in his lap—a little too much so, for he felt the blunt discomfort the moment he brought her into his lap. Ignoring the pain
as best he could, he held her tightly, though she wiggled and writhed in her effort to break free.
"That," he growled, "is enough!"
Quieting suddenly, she stared at him, mouth open. Then she began twisting in his arms again.
"By God, I've endured enough of this," he said. "Next time you try to get away, I shall just let you do that!"
"That would be fine," she snapped back.
"And then I'll just follow you to that nest of Jacobites you're protecting and get all my blasted questions answered," he said between his teeth.
He rode onward, while she sat silent and frowning.
She had made him furious, yet he felt the vigor of it, the challenge of it—for her sheer contrary stubbornness was the equal of his own. He had to admire her spirit. Having lost some of his own spark somewhere along the way, he had long felt some self-imposed restraints. He understood her need for freedom far better than she could know.
The other feelings that tumbled inside him had no name as yet, but he suspected that they were all part of the birthing of a new part of himself ... and by the way she had him spinning about like a whirligig, he wondered if he was beginning to feel a wild sort of love. He had changed some, and just enough, in the last few days, to feel that might be the case.
She did not ride peacefully in his arms, pushing against him now and then, resentful and frustrated. He slowed the horse, holding Kate with one arm, the reins with the other. Reaching the road, he let the horse walk
to cool, then halted it altogether. He looked at Kate, held her while she twisted, and waited.
"Stop, now," he said quietly. "Just stop. I cannot let you escape, and you know it."
She sighed, quieted, looked away. He felt strangely caught in a mythic conflict, like a man from an ancient tale restraining one of the wild fairy folk in a battle greater than both of them.
And he realized that both he and Kate were resisting something greater than any individual grievance. If a bond was forming—if he truly was beginning to feel love for her—that had the power to remake and reshape him, and her, into something finer than when they began.
Someday, perhaps, he could accept that he could indeed love this girl, if he dared think about it. And if it proved true, sooner or later he would have to tell her the truth: that he, too, fought for the Jacobites in a covert way.
But that time was not yet, and there were things he had to do, duties to fulfill, secrets to plumb. He held her, feeling her continued tension and resistance.
"Kate," he murmured. "I am no threat to you."
She looked up at him. "Then tell the court you lost me out here. You told the soldiers so already. Let me go on my way, and you need never bother with me again."
"I will always bother with you," he said, and the word lingered: always.
She looked at him in sudden wonder. Alec leaned down then, could not help himself, as if drawn forward, and touched his lins to hers. That eentle meetine of lins
plummeted through his body, hardening him then and there for more. The kiss dissolved into another when she sighed and returned it before pulling back.
"Stop that. You muddle my head. Why will you not listen to what I am saying and just let me go?" she asked.
"Perhaps I like kissing you," he said wryly. "Perhaps you should say more so that I'll understand—tell me what your kinsmen put you up to with those trips into the military camps. Tell me what you and yours know about those damned weapons."
Kate scowled. "You know I am far too much trouble to keep, and I intend to be even more trouble. I will not let you take me so easily off to prison."
"I realize that. But you'll stay with me, Kate MacCar-ran, no matter what your wilder blood wants. Make of that what you will."
She looked at him in startled silence, her frown pensive as he guided the horse down the hill through the gathering darkness.
Chapter 18
G
lancing toward the inn, a mile or so away through twilight shadows, he saw its windows glowing with lantemlight. As his careful gaze swept the length of the road in the opposite direction, Alec saw a vehicle moving not far in the distance.
"Ah," he said. "It's Jack, at last."
Kate sat straighter. "Jack? Thank God! He's not harmed after all! I was so worried."
Hearing the concern in her voice, Alec felt a pang of envy. He guided the mare down the slope, reaching the stone road at a point between the inn and the oncoming post chaise. Soon Jack slowed the horses and drew the vehicle to a halt.
"There you are," Alec said, as Jack dismounted and came toward them.
"Jack, all this time and no word!" Kate said. "Are you well? What happened?"
"Met with a mishap, but it's fine now. Catriona Bhan, so good to see you again," Jack added in Gaelic, and tipped his hat.
Fair Katherine, Jack had called her. Alec frowned as Kate smiled brightly. He had never thought to gentle her with the compliments that came more easily to Jack MacDonald.
"Alec found me earlier today," Jack said, "recuperating from my adventure. I was just about to return here."
"He did not tell me." She glanced at Alec.
"I had no chance to tell you while you were shrieking like a banshee," he muttered, only for her to hear. No, he thought, he did not have a knack for facile pleasantries.
"I'm sorry t
o be late," Jack went on. "What's going on? What are you two doing out here?" He seemed to notice Alec's taut grip over Kate, who sat across his lap.
"A wee dispute," Alec said.
"He will not let me go home where I belong," Kate said.
"It is my opinion that the lady should stay at the inn," Alec said, "but she prefers to traipse about the hills unescorted, especially by her assigned custodial officer."
"Aha," Jack said, and Alec was grateful his cousin had the wisdom to say no more.
Kate inquired in Gaelic, then, if Jack was well, and he
replied, and asked after her. Alec listened while she answered that she herself was fine, but that Fraser could sometimes be a military ...
He frowned. "Baobach—what is that?"
"Blockhead," Kate answered, and resumed her conversation with Jack in Gaelic.
"Alasdair Callda is trustworthy, never doubt that," Jack said, "though he likes his secrets and his sulks." He added something in Gaelic, and Kate laughed.
"If you're quite done now," Alec snapped. "I trust you will want to spend some time with Jeanie, now that you're back?" He added that sternly.
"Of course. Though I know you need to go on to Edinburgh, and I thank you for waiting. You could have gone on ahead."
"I wish I'd thought of that," Alec grumbled, with a touch of sarcasm. He felt unaccountably irritated with Jack and realized it had to do with Kate—only with Kate. He turned the horse, while Jack ran toward the chaise, leaping up to ride postillion and follow Alec's lead to the inn.
"Are you not glad Jack has safely returned?" Kate asked.
"Aye. But I saw him earlier today and told him so already. I'd like to move on now, but he'll want to spend a day at least here with Jean and the bairn."
"You can both stay at the inn as long as you want," Kate replied. "And I'll just go on my way."
"You're as stubborn a lass as ever existed," Alec said, shaking his head slightly. "I should be shut of you my-
self." Aye, he thought, he was deeply irritated. Jealous. It did not suit him, but there it was.
"You do not find me charming, do you?" she remarked, tilting her head.
Sarah Gabriel - Keeping Kate Page 16
