"Charming enough, but I'm not one of your fools, lass."
"I know that," she murmured.
"How did you get out again, by the way? Did you bedevil poor Davey? Did he adore you enough to do all your will?"
"He was glad to help me."
"I'm sure, the poor lad. Shall I do that?"
"What, help me? Of course."
"I mean adore you," he said. His voice was a low growl—his heart pounded. Earlier he had thought his closed-up heart was softening some, but now he wanted to indulge in some of the old, familiar edge and annoyance that he used to keep others away.
She lifted her chin in that way she had, not haughty but proud, confident, knowing her worth—the way of a fairy queen. "You could do so if you like," she said. "Adore me, I mean."
"What if I already do?" His heart thumped hard, and a feeling turned within, that same whirligig set to motion.
She laughed softly. "If you did, I would know."
"Would you?" he asked, watching her, knowing how easily he could adore her—perhaps already did.
He heard her breath catch. "If you did, you would not drag me about in chains, would you," she replied.
He touched the crystal dangling at her throat. "You're wearing this chain, and no other, just now."
She touched it, her fingers covering his. Then she looked away. He loved the clean grace of her profile. Aye, adored it.
"Kate," he said suddenly. He was not sure what he wanted to say, or do. He only knew he had to touch her, felt the pull of it like a storm within.
But they had reached the inn yard, the chaise rumbled past them, and Davey himself came running out to take care of the horses. Seeing Kate and Alec, he stopped uncertainly.
Alec saluted, Kate waved, and the lad smiled. Then he ran to help Jack bring the horses into the stables. Alec dismounted and reached up to lift Kate to the ground.
But he hesitated, holding her against him for a moment, her hands on his shoulders, her body curving so sweetly against his, even here, in a public yard, though it seemed as if only the two of them existed for a moment.
"If I set you on your feet and let go, what would you do?"
"Run," she said.
"That's honest." Setting her down, he held her firmly about the waist and turned as Jack approached. "Jack, if you want to go inside and see your lady, go ahead," he said. "I'm going upstairs with mine. We'll wait for you there."
"Aye then," Jack said, and smiled at Kate.
She was looking only at Alec, neither smiling nor frownine. her eaze thouehtful.
* X- *
"So you have the urge to run, hey," Jack murmured. Much later that evening, he sat with her in the small rented room. Alec slept on the bed, his back turned to them, snoring deeply. He had been so tired that he had asked Jack to stay in the room and keep watch over Kate while he slept.
"I do," she admitted. She sat on the bed, her back propped with pillows while Jack occupied the single chair.
"I can understand that." He leaned back, stretching out his legs and crossing his feet and buckled shoes. He wore a brown frock coat, breeches, and waistcoat with white stockings, with no Highland gear at all. If he did not wear the full Highland kilt, then wearing a tartan jacket or waistcoat was grounds for arrest as a Jacobite. But for all his finery—snowy white linen ruffles showed at his jacket cuffs and neck, and his buttons were good silver—he was a thorough Highlander, Kate sensed, inside.
And he was that rare thing, a truly beautiful man, with expressive hazel green eyes beneath straight brows, glossy dark hair, a ready grin with a hint of a dimple. He looked more like a gentleman than a servant. He spoke to her mostly in Gaelic, his manner respectful but casual, so Highland in his manners that he set her at immediate ease. She felt as if she had a trustworthy friend already in Jack MacDonald.
"If you understand that I need to be free, then please let me out of here," she murmured, glancing at the door.
Jack waved a hand in dismissal. "I would if I could. But we'll do as Alec Fraser wants."
"Why?" She crossed her arms. "I have kinsmen I must see, a home to return to. I must go west, not east."
"I know. MacCarran. Tcha," he said. "You could have told me. I'm a Keppoch MacDonald. Our kin are allies."
"If you are Jacobite, then why are you with Alec Fraser?"
"I'm loyal to the great cause," he said amiably. "And loyal to that cause, too." He pointed a thumb toward sleeping Alec.
"I do not need to stay here," she insisted.
"That may be," Jack said easily, leaning his chair back until it thumped the wall so that he could rest his head there. He closed his eyes. "You will have to think on that for yourself. Who will benefit if you go? Yourself? Your kin? Alexander Callda? Who will benefit if you stay? It could be you and Alec both. That is what I think. But you must decide."
She frowned, taking in his meaning. Jack was silent then, seemingly intent on sleeping. Slowly Kate stood, watching him warily. But his hand lashed out to grip her forearm and coax her back down to her seat.
"I would not be doing that just now," he murmured, opening one eye.
"You closed your eyes. I thought it was a signal that you would look the other way if I left."
"I wanted to keep from looking at you, lass. You've a blinding sort of beauty. Makes a man lose his wit. I thought I'd best not look upon you, with all your fairy maeic."
She touched the crystal at her throat. "My what?"
"MacCarran—I know the stories. I do not know if Alec does, but I do. And you and I both know that I would fall at your feet like all the rest, subject to your fairy gifts. So I'd best not look at you too often." He closed his eyes again.
She laughed. "You have your own charm, Mr. Mac-Donald."
"So I do. But I'm not such a fool as to flirt and fiddle with the lass who's taken Alec Fraser's heart."
Her own heart beat very fast, suddenly. "I doubt he would truly give his heart to any woman."
"He has given it to you," Jack murmured. "I can tell you that. He might realize it himself one day." He opened his eyes to fix her with a piercing glance. "And when he does, you'd best take care with his heart. That's no man to trifle with."
"I know," she said quietly.
"Good. And I'm no man to trifle with, either, should my kinsman be heartbroken by a fairy-blooded lass who does not even know her own power."
"No need. He does not love me," she said.
"Mm," he grunted. "He does, or he will, or he can. Do you?"
She was silent, glanced at Alec. "I... could."
"This is hopeful. But we'd best change the subject. This one is dangerous. I might be tempted to look at you, and you might look at me, and we'd both be lost forever in our own wicked charm, my darling. And then where would our Alasdair be?" He smiled with wrv satisfaction.
She laughed again. Jack made her want to do that. Yet despite his beauty and smooth charm, she did not feel the sense of irresistible attraction with him that she felt so clearly with Alec Fraser. That both puzzled and thrilled her.
And she began to wonder if Alec could be the one man with whom she could find true love, the only sort of love she could ever accept in her life because of the fairy legend. She touched the fairy crystal again, thoughtfully.
"I'm sure you and I could manage to behave," she said.
"We could. I'm that loyal to Captain Fraser that I'd not allow anything else. Would you?" Jack opened his eyes again.
She shook her head and glanced at Alec, at his broad back and strong shoulders, his tousled brown-gilt hair, all she could see of him, but for his hand tucked over the coverlet as he slept. He had strong, graceful hands, she thought.
"I'm glad you came to no harm these last two days, Jack. You took a risk for Captain Fraser and me, and I thank you for it, even if the captain is not so appreciative."
"In his way, he is, though he keeps things to himself."
"He keeps to himself why he is so determined to rush me to Edinburg
h," she said. "I am in no hurry. And I suppose you want to stay here for a while."
He looked at her. "Me?"
"To stay with your lady and your son," she said bluntly.
A frown puckered his brow, and he was silent for a moment. "I do want to stay with them," he said.
"He's very bonny, the bairn. You must be very proud."
"He looked like a dry apple when I saw him last, but he looked bonny tonight," he admitted.
"He is beautiful," she said. "I love his laugh."
"He did not laugh for me."
"Just wait. You will fall in love, Mr. MacDonald. And Jeanie is a very good mother."
"I know. And I am ... not so good a father. I offered to marry her, you know, but she refused me," he added. "Said she would wait until I knew for sure what I wanted. And all I have wanted to do, for the last year, is marry Jeanie MacLennan, if I could only convince her. I fear my wicked past follows me about."
"I know what that is like. And I think you are a very good man, Jack MacDonald."
He huffed a laugh. "My secret is out. What about Alec Fraser? What do you think of him?"
She glanced away. "He ... puzzles me. Befuddles my brain."
Jack laughed. "You befuddle his brain. And more."
"I know he's one of the good ones," she said quietly.
"He would prefer we not know that," Jack whispered.
"If you want to spend more time with Jean and your son before we go to Edinburgh in the morning," she ventured, "you had best go down to her now. It's late."
"I promised Alec I'd sit with you while he slept."
"I'm sleepy myself. I think we should all rest." She yawned a little and stretched.
Jack looked at her, eyes narrowed, and chuckled. "I'm not a silly young lad, Miss Katie Hell," he drawled.
"Cut more of the cloth of your employer than I thought."
"My cousin," he corrected. "Through MacDonald of Keppoch, where I was fostered as a stray and an orphan."
"He mentioned that."
"Did he? I'm surprised. He keeps his past and his thoughts to himself, does Alec."
"All those rules and such. A good Whig."
"Hardly that," Jack said.
She leaned toward him. "What do you mean?"
"Ask him yourself. He might tell you."
"Is he ... a Jacobite sympathizer?" Once dawned, the idea thrilled and would not go away. "Is he?"
"I cannot speak of another man's politics. It is very personal. You will have to ask him. But even so, either way," he said sternly, "his politics would not erase your arrest and your upcoming hearing."
She frowned, feeling somber suddenly, dreading what awaited her in Edinburgh. "Jack, what do you know about Spanish weapons and some recent arrests of Highlanders?"
He no longer looked in a teasing mood. "What I know is that you must tell our friend Alexander whatever you know before men lose their lives."
She drew breath to speak, sitting up quickly. Alec stirred beside her, rolled over, a hand over his brow.
"Still talking?" he asked groggily
"Ave. listine all vour fine points." Tack said. "But the
lady still thinks you are descended of a water beast, and she will have none of it."
"Go to the devil," Alec grunted, and rolled over.
Jack stood and bowed his head to Kate. "I'd best take my leave of you now, Katie MacCarran, for it is late. And I will give you a little time to decide what you most want."
He smiled ruefully at her, took up his hat and went to the door, opening it, then closing it with a quiet click.
He did not lock it behind him.
Chapter 19
S
he walked steadily, stubbornly through rain, now and then wiping away the tears that kept coming. Slipping on a muddy hill, gasping, she lifted the red dress, its hem sopping and filthy in the time since she had left the inn. Jean's lovely gift, ruined—perhaps that was what made her cry, she told herself.
Surely she would not cry over leaving Alec Fraser asleep on that bed, would not cry over the dreadful feeling that she was betraying him, that she was losing him, that she would never see him again. None of that should matter a whit to her.
She was free, and that was most important. No one could have expected her to stay when the door was onen and Alec lav snorine softlv. his back to her as she
slipped out of the room. Her brother and kinsmen would be worried for her sake, and they needed word of Ian Cameron and his message about the missing weapons. Had she been able to explain that to Alec, she might not have left him as she did.
But she had slipped away without a word, pausing to gaze at him before leaving. All had gone well this time. She had traversed the long moor and was nearing the foothills already, and still she had seen no one behind her.
She sniffled and told herself to ease up, as Alec would have said himself, had he been there to support her choice instead of adding to the clash between his purpose and hers.
Turning, she felt an odd flicker of disappointment that she did not see him behind her. Yet when he found her gone, he could easily follow. He knew her name and could find her clan—and she felt sure he would follow her. But she would reach Duncrieff first with her message, and she could send her kinsmen away.
And then she did not know what might happen. For the moment, reaching home would have to be enough.
She hurried on through cold, drizzling rain and pockets of thick fog, the morning so beastly that she kept her plaid drawn snug about her head and shoulders and slowed her progress over the challenging terrain. Ahead, she saw the mist-covered mountains that shielded her family's small glen. Every step took her closer to her goal—so long as she did not think about the man she had left behind at the inn.
She plodded on, the pattering rain soaking her. Jack had urged her to trust Alec Fraser, and her own feelings did as well—much more so than before—but she could not remain in military custody. No matter how trustworthy Alec might be, he could not protect her from what might come.
And she realized, suddenly, that she did not want to put him in any situation that might endanger him. If she escaped, simply got away from him, he would be in less jeopardy than if he tried to help her.
In that moment, her feelings crystallized, in a way, like the little pendant she wore at her throat—she realized that she was running to protect Alec as much as herself and her kinsmen.
If he did follow her, she would have to send him away for his own well-being. She had walked away with memories and secrets that would warm her always, and for her own and Alec's sake, it was best if they stayed apart. She dashed at another tear.
Feeling a stitch in her side, she stopped, breathing hard, and worked her fingers under the trappings of her dress to loosen the laces of her stays a little for comfort. Looking back, she saw only the empty moorland stretching behind her toward the military road, though much of the view was lost in gathering fog.
Topping the next low hill, she discovered a worn earthen track that dipped and wound its way between slopes and peaks. This was the drover's track she had hoped to find, knowing that it would lead her westward through the hills.
Mist turned the rain-shrouded hills dismal and dark.
and she realized that Alec could not easily follow her through the maze of hills. Sooner or later, though, he would find out which glen belonged to the MacCarrans.
Duncrieff Castle in Glen Carran was no more than a full day's walk, she guessed, heading northwest through the Perthshire hills. Kate had only a little bread in her pocket, saved from supper the night before, and only her plaid shawl for protection from the elements. But once she reached the hills that edged Glen Carran, she would be able to find Highland homes where she could stop and rest, or ask for shelter for the night if necessary.
Stopping beside a narrow burn, she dipped her hand into the fast-flowing, cold water to sip her fill, drying her chilled fingers on her plaid before moving on. The overgrown drover's tra
ck was marked well enough, and she easily found her way.
After a while, she heard cracking and rustling somewhere behind her. She whirled. The sound came again, echoing in the foggy hillsides so that she could not locate it. Again the rustling sounded—footsteps touching rock, crushing wet grass.
Alarmed, not knowing who else might be roaming these hills—cattle thieves or kinsmen, brigands or government soldiers—she gathered her skirts in her hands and hurried up another incline.
The higher she went, the thicker the fog became. Near the crest of the hill, it was white and dense as a bank of clouds. Kate climbed upward steadily, but more cautiously. Her red gown was damp and muddy, and she ached with weariness, but she moved on.
A nagging awareness lingered, for she grew more sure that someone was nearby, perhaps deliberately following her. She did not think it was Alec, for she had that much start on him. Glancing around, she could see little, for she stood in a trough between two slopes that formed a deep bowl of fog.
"Kate!"
She gasped, her heart jumped. She was sure the voice belonged to Alec—she knew the tone and timbre of it. He called again, and she thought the distorted echo came from far below where she stood.
He had indeed followed her.
"Kate!" His voice was faint, and nowhere close, and she had no idea which direction it came from. And suddenly she wanted to answer though she knew she should not.
She turned, hurried onward, stopped again. What if he was lost, what if he worried that she was lost? Rather than angry or impatient, he sounded concerned—and determined.
She would be foolish to run back to her captor, she told herself. She had gotten clear away and needed that advantage, for eventually he would find Dun-crieff, and her.
At the crest of the next slope, the swirling mist thinned enough to reveal the drover's track and the raw shapes of gray rock and mossy turf. And she heard another sound, beyond the patter of rain and the eerie whoosh of the wind—footsteps crushing grass, and the low murmur of male voices. And they were much closer than Alec Fraser.
* X- *
"Where in blazes is she," Alec muttered as he walked up yet another steep incline. "Damn it, Kate, where the devil have you gone this time?"
Sarah Gabriel - Keeping Kate Page 17
