Hiding Katherine

by GG Shalton

  An hour later, Dorian stopped the group at the sight of horses coming toward them down the hill. The men put their hands on their swords as a group of warriors approached them. Katherine could see the colors of the plaid from the distance and Dorian grabbed her reins slowing their decent.

  One of his men faced him and said, “I think it’s the one they call Cold-Heart. I recognize his legendary stallion.”

  Dorian looked back at his men. “Not to mention his legendary size. Everyone stays close until we know if we will have trouble.”

  The massive leader pulled his horse in front of the group while his men flanked him on each side. Katherine peeked from under her covering. Her breath caught in her throat taking in the sight in front of her.

  The man was enormous—he was well over six feet tall with huge muscular arms and thighs that looked like they swallowed up the saddle. She had never seen a man that looked so alarming. His long dark hair was pulled back in a band and his face showed a few battle scars near his chin. He was young but had a mature look about him. His hardened jaw was clenched as he scowled, causing all of them to shift in their saddles uncomfortably. He stared at the group assessing each warrior without any sign of emotion on his face. It was unnerving!

  Finally, he moved his eyes in their direction. A deep voice echoed in the silence of the men, “Dorian? Am I correct?”

  Dorian nodded assessing his greeting. He lifted Deanna out of his saddle placing her on the ground beside Katherine’s horse. All three women shivered nervously at the encounter. Dorian took his horse forward flanked by two of his men in front of the group. Katherine quickly weighed her surroundings hoping to find an escape route in case she had to run.

  Dorian nodded his head and spoke in Gaelic. The men spoke a few words back and forth and eventually looked at the women. Dorian switched to English, so they could understand. “They are English. We found them hiding in the woods. Apparently, escaping from Clan McEntee. I have offered them my protection until they can obtain safe passage back home.”

  The man looked at the women but didn’t say anything. He eventually looked away and glanced at the boar. “We accept your hospitality.” He looked back at his men and they started unloading their bags.

  Dorian took their horse and walked toward a stream and tied it up. He escorted Deanna and lifted the other women off their saddle. He leaned down to whisper, “Listen, lassies. That man is known as Cold-Heart, although his real name is Sir Ian Travis. I didn’t want to offend him and thought to invite him to sup with us. His men are notorious fighters. I am not sure if he is friend or foe. So be careful around him. They say he is ruthless in battle and unpredictable. Even his own family is wary of him. His reputation is real, and he is probably the most feared warrior in all of Scotland.”

  Katherine snuck a look at the man they were talking about. He was speaking to one of his men in a low growling voice. The muscles in his arms bulged with definition and his tunic was stained with blood. “How does he know you?”

  “I am acquainted with his older brother. I only met Ian once last year. I haven’t ever fought with him. He is a mercenary and hires out his skills instead of fighting with his clan. I have heard he is a bit brutal with his enemies who gave him the name Cold-Heart. His battle skills and size are already legendary even though he is young. People say he is not a man of many words—not the type to smile. He is also known for his very serious demeanor. But he seems to be on friendly terms today. Just stay clear of him and his men. Their reputation is not good. Keep your little sister in the tent, Deanna.”

  Deanna nodded at his warning and took Katherine by the hand. The men built a small tent out of blankets and she made Katherine sit inside. Claudia helped gather some wild vegetables and roots to make a stew with the meat. Deanna took Dorian’s hand and sat on his lap, while Katherine watched them from inside the tent. The men started passing ale around, and she noticed the one that did not take any was the one they call Cold-Heart.

  Katherine longed to take care of some private needs, yet Deanna never came to the tent to check on her. Growing frustrated, she lifted the side of the blanket and walked into the woods. The trees were all overgrown and she struggled with the branches as she tried to find an area where she could relieve herself quickly. After she finished, she walked back toward the fire not watching where she was going and tripped over a log causing her to lose the covering on her head. It was so dark, she couldn’t find it. Feeling around for it, her head bumped an object in front of her. Realizing it was the silhouette of a large man, she gasped, “Pardon me!”

  A hand came in front of her face holding something and a deep voice sounded, “Did you lose this?”

  Her voice cracked. “I … am sorry, I didn’t see you. Yes, I am looking for my cloak.”

  He handed the covering to her. “It’s a shame you would cover yourself.”

  Katherine’s heart went into her throat. The man looked even bigger close-up. She felt faint and stumbled again trying to back away. A massive arm caught her before hitting the ground.

  “I am so sorry. You just frightened me.” She stabilized herself and he removed his arm.

  “It was not my intention.” He looked at her studying her face. “Let me escort you back to the camp.”

  Her eyes widened. “Um… My sister told me not to leave the tent. She mustn’t know that I left.”

  He tilted his head. “What is your age?”

  “Sixteen, my lord. I shall be seventeen in a month.”

  “Then you are old enough not to be frightened by your sister.”

  She smiled. “You don’t know my sister.”

  He smiled back, and her heart skipped a beat. A serious man known not to smile just smiled at her.

  He held out his elbow. “I will protect you.”

  Katherine slowly took his elbow. As they approached the camp, Deanna stood up with a scowl on her face. Walking swiftly to Katherine, she yelled. “Katherine! Why are you out of the tent? Where is your covering?”

  Katherine looked up at the man. He looked at Dorian behind Deanna. “I asked her to sit with me next to the fire. I assure you she is in capable hands. I assume you have no objections.” His menacing stare would quiet anyone’s protests.

  Deanna reached for Katherine’s arm. “Pardon me, my lord. My sister is a very young maiden unaccustomed to men’s gatherings. I beg her leave and she will return to her tent.”

  “Your request is denied. I will not hurt her, and neither will my men.” Deanna opened her mouth to object, but nothing came out.

  His eyes looked over the group as he turned back to Deanna. “I can’t speak for Dorian’s men, but I will now.” He whistled for everyone’s attention. “Hear me now!” Holding up Katherine’s hand, he turned her around for all to see. “She is under my protection tonight. None will touch her.”

  He looked at Deanna, “My word is final, and they will not harm her.” He then looked at Dorian and narrowed his eyes. “Excuse us.” He walked away pulling Katherine beside him as they reached the other side of the fire pit.

  Katherine looked back and saw her sister raising her arms pleading with Dorian. He grabbed her hands and took her beside the tent to speak privately.

  Katherine turned back around and looked up at the huge man—he looked down and patted her arm reassuringly. She trembled, as he grabbed a fur off his horse and placed it around her and then took her to sit by a tree near the fire.

  He leaned down and whispered to her, “I take it your name is Katherine. That is what I heard your sister call you.”

  His voice was low and deep, his masculinity was a bit overbearing and she tried hard to find her voice. “Yes, my lord.”

  He reached up and touched her hair. “Please call me Ian.”

  She looked down unable to look into his eyes so intimately. The winds picked up a
nd the group complained about the cold. Katherine pulled the fur tighter around her and Ian leaned against the tree to block the wind. He opened his plaid. “We would probably be warmer if we sat close together.”

  Katherine’s eyes widened in shock at his suggestion.

  He gazed at her face kindly. “I promise I don’t bite.”

  She stared at him not moving. He reached for her and scooted her closer to him as he engulfed her in his massive arms. She did not resist and snuggled closer to block the wind. Smelling the woodsy scent on his neck, she smiled. Most warriors had terrible odor, but his scent was pleasant, and she laid her head on his chest. Nestled between his arm and thick thighs, she felt protected not only from the elements but from Derrick and the McEntee clan.

  “Tell me, Katherine, how is an English lass with hair like spun gold and a face men would die for, all alone in Scotland with no husband or betrothed? Or is that who you’re running from?”

  She pulled away slightly and considered his eyes. “Close to the truth. My father is an English knight and wanted a higher place at court. He planned to betroth me to the highest noble he could find, but my Scottish grandmother became ill. We came to pay our last respects without my father’s permission. I can’t imagine the wrath the household faced with our departure.”

  He listened deeply, a trait she was not used to with men. He rubbed her hand gently. “What happened that brought you here?”

  She closed her eyes. “It’s been awful! When we arrived in Scotland, my grandmother died, and her clan was unkind to us. They refused us an escort back to England and planned to sell us themselves. Before they could barter us off, the laird’s son laid claim on me. But his father had refused his pursuit and it made him angry. He told me he would take me away and helped me escape. His friend took me to the woods and provided two horses for our journey. My instructions were to wait for him. But my sister appeared and made me steal the horses even though I begged her not to. I am frightened they will find us and make us suffer their punishment for horse thievery.”

  “Do you love this laird’s son?”

  Katherine gasped and replied, “Nay! Deanna told me to use my woman charms on him so that he would help us.”

  Ian tried to suppress a smile. “I am sure he would do anything possible for one of your charms.”

  Kathleen rolled her eyes. “I doubt that. He is probably going to kill me when he finds us.”

  He whispered, “Don’t be frightened. I know the clan you speak of and I will not let them harm you. What about your father?”

  Katherine took a deep breath. “I hardly know. He is a harsh man and not to be trifled with. My mother died when I was young. Deanna is a widow—her husband was thrice her age and decrepit. She will not let my father make a match for her again and has decided not to return.”

  “She has put you in danger.” He looked around at his men, who had found their own trees to lie against. He focused back on Katherine and kissed her fingers. “Your hands are cold. Let me warm them up.” He rubbed her small hands with his large ones and blew on them holding onto them closely.

  “Deanna means well. She is only three years older than me and tries to be a mother too. She keeps me hidden mostly as she says I attract the wrong kind of attention.”

  He blew on her fingers again. “She is jealous.”

  Katherine shook her head. “Nay, she just worries about me.”

  He grunted and reached for a bag near his feet. “Would you like some ale?” He took a drink and handed it to her. She accepted and put it up to her mouth swallowing a generous amount.

  “Tell me, Ian. Why do the men fear you? Are you dangerous?”

  He took a minute and mulled over her question. “Do you fear me?”

  She took another drink and wiped her mouth. “Should I fear you?” She challenged his stare with one of her own not breaking away but trying to read his thoughts.

  “I feel it’s important to keep my opponents guessing and a bit off guard. My words are few and I don’t give into mindless chatter. I let my skills do my talking.”

  She looked away secretly hoping he would keep talking to her. Even his voice was manly, and she wanted to hear more. They sat in compatible silence for a few moments. He turned her hand over and placed a kiss on the inside of her wrist. He looked at her raising a brow. “So, tell me, Katherine. Have you ever been kissed?”

  The hammering of her heart felt like it was going to come out of her chest. She pulled her hands away and held them next to her body. “That is an improper question, Sir Ian.”

  A slight smile formed on his lips. “I take that as a no.”

  She pressed her lips tightly together in protest and narrowed her eyes. “I was kept hidden most of my life not allowed to engage in the same amusements as my brothers or sister. I have not had the same amount of opportunities at romance as others my age. But I assure you, Sir, that I am not a child.”

  He rubbed his lips eyeing her with amusement. “Oh, trust me, sweeting. I don’t see you as a child.”

  She looked shyly away not able to meet his stare. His words swayed heavy in the air and she couldn’t answer. This man intrigued her, and his attention was making her feel warm. She felt him touch her hair pulling it back from her face, and he slowly leaned down and brushed his lips across her closed mouth. She kept her eyes open watching him close his eyes. The kiss was soft and so gentle. He pulled away and took hold of her hands again. “Now you can say you have been kissed.”

  Her heart twisted with a bit of anger—he thought of her as a child. She could feel it by his kiss. “I am not dense. I know it was only a chaste kiss of friendship. In that case, I have been kissed before.”

  He raised his brow and questioned, “Indeed? Your innocence does hold a bit of mystery. Perhaps you challenge me?”

  She looked down questioning her own brazen statement. Slightly panicked, she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. “Forgive me for my impertinence. If I made you think I was skilled in the ways of kissing. Rest assured that I am not.”

  He pulled her closer to him. “Not yet.” He leaned down and kissed her again, this time not quite as gentle. He opened her mouth with his tongue and deepened the kiss, tasting her and teaching her at the same time.

  She was stunned by the intimacy and the feel of his body pressing against her. Not wanting to pull away, she soon learned the rhythm of his kiss and matched him. He pulled her closer and eased up on his kiss, instead nibbling on her bottom lip and letting out a groan. “You learn fast.”

  She pulled back unsure of what to say. He took her in his arms and brought her head to his chest kissing the top her head. “We should get some rest.”

  Cuddling closer to him, she kept quiet and tried to fall asleep.

  “Do you think she is safe?” Deanna looked past the fire to see her sister wrapped in a fur leaning against the leader of the other group.

  Dorian took her hand. “He has claimed her as untouchable. Trust me—no man among us will touch her.” He chuckled. “My men about fell over when she took off her covering. Who knew what she looked like? No wonder you kept her covered. It makes sense why Clan McEntee wanted to use her for financial gain.”

  Deanna searched his face cautiously. “Are you among my sister’s admirers?”

  Doran reached for her hugging her tightly. “Nay, I like my women a little spicier.” He bent down and gave her a long kiss.

  She pulled away wanting to continue their conversation. “She is naïve to the world and her own beauty. My older brothers and father were very protective of her. She was practically a prisoner. Sometimes beauty is a curse when women have to be at the mercy of men.”

  Dorian turned her chin to meet his eyes. “You are beautiful to me.”

  Deanna looked down shyly unable to think of herself as beautiful. “Tell
me again about him. Do you think he will take advantage of her innocence? He doesn’t seem like the kind of man who would respect her or any woman for that matter.”

  Dorian took a drink of ale swirling it his mouth savoring the brew before swallowing. After a moment he answered, “I am acquainted with his older brothers more than with him. He is the fourth son of seven. His reputation is fierce. Even his own kin are a little wary of him. When he was younger, they called him the silent one, as he barely spoke. After he proved his battle skills, his name changed. His family is very rich and powerful in our lands. Their keep is the biggest I have ever seen. They built it into the side of a mountain and added multiple towers for each one of their children.”

  Dorian laid back and patted the blanket beside him. Deanna laid down and put her head on his chest waiting for him to continue. “Rumor is that Ian was sent to foster with some legendary warriors at a young age. When he was fifteen, he left his foster family and disappeared for a year. During this time, it is believed that he studied the art of fighting with outlaws and acquired a few close friends. But he never revealed where he was during that year. When he returned to his family a year later at sixteen, his growing size shocked them, he was bigger than all his family. They say he had changed tremendously and was knighted the next year. His skills were far superior to any of his older brothers. He could best any of them. I remember his older brother told me once that he showed no emotion in his fighting and was called Cold-Heart after a battle where he killed all the prisoners of war. He left nothing. Their father worried about him as people spoke about his reign of terror. His men are very loyal and half of them come from other areas than his own clan. It caused some hostility within the ranks. He is definitely the rebel in his family.”