The Kissing Stone

by Amanda Scott

  They left as soon as they had collected towels and Rory. With Argus ranging ahead along the stream that spilled southward down the west hillside, from the fork well above the castle knoll, they made their way up to the pool.

  It was chilly, as Rory, sticking his toes in, announced to the twins. “Ye can ha’ your swim,” he added. “I’ll keep a watch out from yon sunny rock, and I swear I willna peek. Argus, ye stay wi’ them, so if they try tae droon, ye can pull them out.”

  “If I had not seen that that laddie can outswim most fish, I would call him a feardie,” Clydia said with a chuckle as the boy climbed his rock and turned his back to them, and Argus lay down a short distance away and sleepily watched the twins.

  “Rory has more bones than flesh,” Katy pointed out. “Mayhap it feels colder to him than it does to us.”

  In the event, neither of them stayed long in the water, but when Clydia suggested returning to the castle, Katy said, “I want to stay a while longer. I’m warm enough, so mayhap I’ll walk over to Granny Rosel’s or into the woods.”

  “Then keep Rory with you as well as Argus,” Clydia said.

  “Nae. I do enjoy Rory’s chatter, but I’d liefer be alone for a time. I’ll keep Argus, though, if you like.”

  “Aye, you should, and dinna do aught to irk Da.”

  Grinning wryly, Katy said, “I do not want to do that.”

  By the time Clydia and Rory were out of sight, Katy had dismissed the notion of visiting Granny Rosel, for Clydia’s warning had reminded her that she had not seen Will since Saturday. If he had followed the same pattern today that he had described the day they met, he might be heading back northward by now.

  On the thought, she jumped up and walked briskly around the curve of the wooded hillside toward the slope east of the castle, taking care to stay south of the crags. Argus trotted ahead of her, looking back occasionally to keep her in sight. As the woods thickened, he slowed and looked back more often.

  Katy moved as quietly as the wolf dog did, listening carefully to the forest sounds. Even so, she saw Argus perk his ears before she heard any warning that someone might be nearby.

  “What is it, laddie?” she murmured.

  The dog stopped, glanced back at her, and then perked its ears southward and wagged its tail.

  Delight surged through Katy. “Show me,” she whispered.

  Argus moved forward, and she followed. Moments later, closer than she had expected, she heard a murmur of voices, barely recognizable as male and female.

  Tail wagging faster, Argus looked at her hopefully.

  Raising her hand, palm out, and dropping it to touch her thigh, she signaled him to stay with her. Obediently, he turned to walk beside her, and she moved forward at an angle that soon brought her within sight of her quarry.

  Her heart began pounding in her chest, and she knew she was grinning from ear to ear.

  “What is it, Will?” Alyssa demanded, moving closer to him. “What do you see?” By then, though, she could see for herself. “It be that same lass I saw in the woods yonder the other day, and she looks gey happy, so; you do ken her, aye?”

  “I do,” he replied, keeping his voice low. “Just remember what I said earlier, Aly. Give away no information unless I say you may.”

  “I remember,” she said. “But if that dog be as friendly as it looks, a-wagging its tail as it does, I want tae meet her.”

  Will’s body had reacted instantly the moment he recognized the lass who, for nights, had haunted his dreams, and he was eager to talk with her. It could prove awkward, since Alyssa was with him, but walking the ridge over the past few days, he had watched for Katy or some sign that she needed or wanted to see him.

  He had been disappointed to see none.

  In truth, he was not sorry to have suggested meeting her again, though they were taking a dangerous path. Even so, her lure was strong, strong enough to send heat surging through his body and make him yearn to touch her. He did not mean to miss this chance to speak with her if only to be sure she had suffered no harm after meeting her cousin the day he had caught the scurrilous red-headed scruff with Aly.

  “Stay here, Alyssa, whilst I see what she wants.”

  Moving forward on the words, sure that Aly would obey, he strode down the hill, capturing Katy’s gaze as he did, without a thought for careless step or unseen root, seeing only how her expression softened and how beautiful she was.

  Movement drew his attention long enough to Argus to see the dog’s tail still wagging. It went on doing so when Argus shifted attention to a point behind Will. Only when Katy’s gaze did the same did he see that Aly had followed him.

  Looking past Katy then and noting that no part of the Finlagh ramparts showed through the dense foliage, he felt some relief. They were still too close to the castle for comfort, though, so he would have something to say to Aly later.

  Katy, grinning, extended a hand to Aly, who grasped it with both hands and with a wider, more joyful smile than Will had seen from her in months. “I’m Katy,” Katy said. “I think I we saw each other in our north woods the other day.”

  “We did, aye,” Aly said. Then, looking at Will, she waited.

  Katy, too, eyed him and made no effort to free her hand from Aly’s grasp.

  Will wondered what she would say if he asked if her scapegrace cousin “Gil” had taken himself off yet or not. He could not ask that, though, not with Aly there.

  Katy raised her eyebrows at him. “She is your sister, is she not?”

  Will said simply, “Aye, her name is Aly.”

  Smiling again, Katy said, “I am pleased to meet you, Aly.”

  “Me, too, tae meet you,” Aly said. “You are so beautiful!”

  “Marry,” Katy said with a chuckle, “we have been cleaning for days, so I feel as if it will be months before I am even tidy again. You must know how that is.”

  “Aye, sure, I help with cleaning, too,” Aly said, then cast a hasty glance at Will, which he read with ease as fearing that she had said too much.

  He gave her shoulder a reassuring touch, but he knew they dared not linger.

  “Mayhap you might visit me sometime,” Katy said, shooting Will a quizzically challenging look that he read as easily as he had read Aly’s.

  “Mayhap, one day,” he said.

  Then his irrepressible sister blurted, “Oh, how I would like that! I expect you saw that I know your cousin, so mayhap we can be friends. Sithee, I have never—”

  “Aly,” Will interjected quietly.

  Flushing, she looked at him, eyes flashing, lips pressed together. He held her gaze, but her lips tightened. She said, “’Tis true, Will. You ken fine that it is.”

  “That is enough,” he said. “We must go.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes, but she collected herself and turned back to Katy. “I am glad tae have met you, my la—”

  “Just Katy,” Katy said gently. She looked at Will as if she might say more, but before she could, he caught sight of movement in the woods beyond her.

  A half-breath later a boyish voice called just loudly enough for her to hear. “Lady Kate! Sir Fin wants ye!”

  As Will grabbed Aly by an arm and whisked her back into the shrubbery with him, Katy turned swiftly, calling back in similar tones, “I’m coming, Rory!”

  “Aye, good, but hie yerself,” the boy replied. “Yer da has visitors!”

  More quietly but with a gesture of her right hand, she added, “Argus, go to Rory. And, you, sir,” she said in a normal tone, turning and peering into the shrubbery as the dog trotted away toward the boy, “art still there?”

  “Aye,” Will murmured.

  “Mayhap tomorrow, at yonder stream of the pail and smack,” she said with a mischievous grin. “Do you think you can meet me there?”

  “I’ll try,” he replied, smiling at the reminder
of his first and only, surprisingly painful meeting with her twin.

  Chapter 8

  “Who is it?” Katy demanded when she met towheaded Rory and Argus moments later. The boy was ruffling the dog’s ears. “Who has come?”

  “Donald, Thane o’ Cawdor, and his son, Wilkin,” Rory said, straightening to face her. “They rode a pair o’ fine bay horses and had four men-at-arms wi’ them. They rode them horses right up yon steep track tae the castle entrance, too.”

  “Donald must have business with my father,” Katy said with a frown. “Do you know why Da sent for me?”

  “Nae, but I heard him ask the lady Clydia where ye’d be,” Rory said. “She said ye’d lingered at yon pond and might ha’ gone tae see Granny Rosel. Only then she tellt me I should come intae these woods here and call tae ye.” He cocked his head. “Does her ladyship ha’ the Sight, d’ye think?”

  “She does not,” Katy said. “You know that the Sight does not provide information about other people’s locations. She just knew I wanted time to myself after days of cleaning amidst many people, clouds of dust, and noisy, nosy boys.”

  “Aye, that would be why, I’d wager,” Rory said with a cheeky grin. “I’m thinking now that I should say nowt about where I found ye, though.”

  Katy smiled. “I think you have shown that you know when to speak and when not to speak, my laddie.”

  When they reached the castle courtyard, Katy saw more men there than usual, but the visitors were orderly and quiet. In the hall, she found her mother overseeing arrangements for their guests with her usual calm and steady eye.

  Looking up, Catriona said, “There you are, dearling. Do not linger now but run upstairs and don a fresh kirtle. Bridgett is there now with Clydia.”

  “Rory said Da had sent for me, and that the Thane of Cawdor has come,” Katy said. “Is aught amiss?”

  “Aye, for Donald says that Comyn de Raite has seized the castle of Nairn and claims to be taking over the sheriffdom there, as well. Your father wants us all to stay inside the castle until the matter is sorted out,” Catriona said.

  “Mercy, were many people hurt?” Katy asked.

  “I don’t know, love. I expect we shall hear more at supper. Hurry, though, for Donald came only to bring us the news. He will depart after we eat. Sithee, he has sent running gillies to Inverness to raise men-at-arms and another to Loch Moigh,” she added, glancing toward the huge fireplace on the far side of the hall.

  Looking that way, Katy saw Gilli Roy standing by the fire, peering down into the flames. He glanced up then, his solemn gaze meeting hers.

  “Gilli looks sad,” Katy said.

  “His father will want to know what the two of you have decided,” Catriona said. “We’ll talk later, though, after Donald and Wilkin leave. Go now and change your dress. Then, mayhap you will have time to talk with Gilli Roy.”

  Stifling a sigh, Katy cast another glance at Gilli before going up to her bedchamber, where she found her twin with Bridgett.

  Clydia twitched the skirt of her favorite blue kirtle into place, smiled, and said, “I see that Rory found you.”

  “Just where you said he would,” Katy said dryly. “He asked me if you have the Sight.”

  “Good sakes,” Bridgett said. “That boy kens as well as we do that the Sight happens but rarely and usually during some horrible disaster. Ye’d best be washing yourself quick, though, m’lady. I ha’ put out that yellow gown that ye like, and Lady Clydia threaded new green-ribbon lacing intae the bodice for ye, too.”

  Moving to the basin, Katy said, “Thank you both. I expect that you heard what Comyn de Raite has done now.”

  “Aye, Mam told us,” Clydia said. “That man—sakes, that whole clan—is horrid. I hope no one was killed or badly injured.”

  “Mam told me that Cawdor has sent a runner to fetch Malcolm.”

  “Certes, he would feel obliged to,” Clydia said. Then, frowning, she looked at Katy and added, “I have not seen Gil for some time. Have you?”

  “Just now,” Katy said. “He was staring into the fire, looking miserable. That poor laddie does not want me any more than I want him.”

  Clydia began to speak, cast a look at Bridgett, and fell silent.

  Katy said, “Bridgett does not repeat the things we say, Clydie.”

  “Nae, I do not,” Bridgett said bluntly, “but neither do I wish tae ken all about other folks ye might discuss. A body can hold only so many secrets, and them what concern others be the hardest tae keep, ’cause they pile up, as ye might say, till it be possible that one might spill out o’ a body’s mouth—unintended, o’ course.”

  “She is right,” Clydia said. “It is unfair of us to speak of things involving others that she should not repeat. Bridgett is loyal to us, not to others we know or to whom we may be kin. But you must talk frankly with Gil, Katy.”

  “Aye, Mam said much the same thing. She also said that Cawdor and Wilkin will depart after supper. I’ll talk to Gilli then.”

  Fin and the Thane of Cawdor dominated the supper conversation at Finlagh. Other than polite responses when her mother or Clydia asked her to move a sauceboat closer or pass the bread, Katy was barely aware of the men’s voices or anything else at the table. Her thoughts had riveted themselves on Malcolm and how soon they could expect his arrival and his demand for news of the betrothal.

  She knew both of their visitors, for Cawdor sat just a few miles west on the strath. Donald, the burly, white-haired fifth Thane of Cawdor, was fifty-five, two years younger than Fin; and Donald’s son—lankier, dark-haired William, who would become the sixth Thane—was twenty-six and known familiarly as “Wilkin.”

  While exchanging greetings with the two notable warriors before the grace, Katy had noted that both were more solemn than usual.

  Comyn de Raite had murdered the fourth Thane nearly three decades ago and they were angry with him now and concerned about the well-being of the people of Nairn, but she knew they confidently expected to oust the Comyns from the town.

  Just then, she heard Donald say in his deep voice, “My runners are swift, and Malcolm won’t delay.”

  “We expect he’ll take but two or three days to arrive,” Wilkin said, his hazel-brown eyes twinkling. “Then we’ll see some fine sport as we rout the devils.”

  Shaking her head at him, Katy stifled a sigh but reminded herself that two or three days were better than Malcolm arriving sooner, especially since she hoped to see Will the next afternoon. Gilli had to come first, though, so after bidding their guests good night at the table she hurried after him when he walked away.

  “Gilli,” she said quietly but firmly when she caught up to him, “we simply must decide what we are going to do before your lord father arrives.”

  “The ramparts again?” he muttered.

  Since the hall was clamorous with men amusing themselves or preparing for bed, and her parents would retire to the inner chamber after escorting Cawdor and Wilkin to the courtyard, she said, “I think so. We will have more privacy there.”

  Atop the castle, the night was dark enough for stars to be out. No moon had appeared the night before, so Katy doubted they would see one tonight.

  The air was crisp, and she had not bothered to stop at her chamber on the way to fetch a shawl because, instead of following her as gentlemen usually did going up a steep spiral stairway, Gilli had hurried on ahead. Also, since he tended to be dramatic in both speech and actions, she was unsure that she should trust him not to do anything foolish.

  When he began to stride across the rubble-strewn roof instead of keeping to the walkway, she paused by the south parapet. “Gilli, we can talk here. No one else will come up before the guards change at midnight.”

  He stopped where he was and stood, slumped. When she kept silent, he straightened, turned, and walked slowly back to face her.

  “What are we going
tae do, Katy?” he muttered. “I ken fine that ye dinna want tae marry me, and ye ken fine that I care much more for Aly. I canna tell me father about her, though, so …” He spread his hands. She could hear his distress in his voice; and, even in the dusky starlight, she saw it in his face.

  She said softly, “Gilli, I know you care about Aly, and we both know that Malcolm will not want to hear that, especially when you claim not even to know her clan affiliations.”

  Gilli said despondently, “I tell ye, Katy, the only thing my father will want to hear be that ye’ve agreed tae marry me. Every night I dream I’ve fallen intae an icy river that sweeps me away. I just let it happen, too, because that fate doesna seem so dire now. Me father be that set on making us marry each other, and your father will do whatever mine tells him tae do.”

  Gently, certain now that she had only one obvious course before her, Katy said, “But I will not do that, Gilli. I doubt that you have any chance of marrying your Aly unless you are willing to steal her away and declare yourselves married to each other. In any event, though,” she added hastily, “Malcolm cannot force me to marry you. In troth, I doubt he can legally force you to marry someone you do not want, but I ken fine that you fear to defy him. So I must do it for both of us.”

  Gilli Roy stared at her, his mouth agape. Then, forming his words carefully, he said, “What was that ye said afore, Kate, about us declaring ourselves married?”

  Thursday morning, Will awoke with a smile on his lips, recalling that he would see Katy that afternoon. De Raite had not returned; nor had anyone who had gone to Nairn with him. Even so, Will knew he could not risk taking Alyssa on his patrol again and was relieved when she did not ask to go.

  The morning passed slowly, but he saw no indication as he headed north that Fin of the Battles was gathering men-at-arms at Finlagh, so he made his way back earlier than usual, ostensibly to check again for such activity. Finding a place of concealment from which he could watch the spot on the stream where he had met Katy’s twin the day he had mistaken her for Katy, he settled in to wait.

  He had not been there long before he saw one or the other of them heading straight for him, pail in hand. Instinct told him the lass was Katy, but he waited until she stopped by the stream and peered expectantly into the shrubbery, first in the woodland on the slope above and then at shrubbery on either side of her.