The Kissing Stone

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The Kissing Stone Page 21

by Scott, Amanda

“Would you have warned us if you had known?”

  He hesitated.

  “Well, sir?”

  “Lass, I don’t know what I’d have done then. I feel dreadful that I took any part in it at all. I am a Comyn, and I ken fine the history of the feuding betwixt our clans, but my cousin and I could scarcely tell one side from the other and left the field as soon as we could. He, too, had followed de Raite’s orders unknowingly.”

  “I don’t care about him. But you profess to care about me, and we are—”

  “I do care about you,” he interjected. “In fact, I—”

  “Then you should … Faith, I know that one’s clan is one’s clan, Will, but it irks me that you cannot tell me what you would have done. I hate this feud!”

  “I, too,” he said, with a sad sigh. “I dinna want to fratch, Katy-love.”

  Giving herself a shake to cool her temper, she reached up to stroke his cheek as she said, “I don’t want to, either. I just wish we could run away to a place where clans do not feud, where we could live peaceably. We are married now, after all, unless you mean to tell everyone you do not believe me when I say that it is legal.”

  “I would not contradict you or abandon you, mo chridhe,” he said with his warm smile. “Whatever I may believe, and though we did depart the battle since we had no quarrel with either side, I am not a man who customarily runs away.

  “Sithee, de Raite had sent us and the others to surround Loch Moigh and its islet castle, gloating that he would be near enough to see Malcolm’s dismay when he awoke that morning. Instead, the Mackintosh’s men let us place ourselves before moving quietly in to ambush us, trapping us between themselves and the loch. Dae and I both had to defend ourselves, but, by my troth, lass, I know not if the men we fought were Mackintoshes or Comyns, because everyone was wet and muddy from the rain and from creeping about as we were doing. Come to that,” he added as if it had occurred to him only then, “many on our side did not know me. Any one of them might have mistaken me for a Mackintosh—and Dae, as well.”

  “That would have been horrid,” she said, hugging him again.

  “Aye, it would,” he agreed. “As for running away with you now, I’d like nothing better than to be with you always. But I ken better than most how it is to be torn from people one loves. You’d be miserable if you had to leave your family.”

  Wanting to deny those words, to make clear to him her certainty that she had fallen in love with him and would be happy anywhere he was, Katy managed for once to hold her impulsive tongue long enough to try to imagine a way to make such a declaration credible.

  Instead, she realized that Will was right.

  Will could see Katy’s thoughts in her expressive face and recognized the moment she knew he was right.

  Drawing her closer, he held her, inhaling the sweet herbal scent of her hair.

  “I built a cairn by the Stone, so you would know I’d been here, and scattered it only today when I was not sure it was you I heard coming,” she murmured against his chest. “I … I came yesterday, too, and Tuesday and Wednesday as well.”

  “Alone?” he asked, raising his eyebrows and holding her a little away to watch her expression but trying to avoid an accusatory note.

  Apparently, he failed, for she looked up at him with a mischievous smile. “I, too, keep my word, sir. I promised my father I’d not walk about alone, but I left Rory and the dogs far enough from here that, although they will hear if I call to them, Rory cannot hear what we say. He promised he would stay there, and he does not break his word, either.”

  “You are sure of that?”

  “I am. I would remind you, too, that when I heard you coming from the north, rather than the south, I stepped behind the Stone until I could see through the shrubbery that it was you. I expected you to come your usual way, and silently.”

  She was learning to think more carefully, which was good. Chuckling, he said, “My ankle still betrays me, so I am a bit clumsy. If young Rory and the dogs are waiting for you, though, mayhap you should go.”

  “I don’t want to go yet,” she said. “I was gey worried about you, Will. I know you will say I should not worry, and I am sure you are a fine warrior, but I cannot help it. My father is Sir Fin of the Battles, known as such throughout Scotland, and I still worry about him if he has to fight.”

  “I know what it is to worry, Katy-love. I cannot be vexed with you for caring about my safety.”

  “I like you to call me that,” she said, smiling. “Do you love me?”

  “Wilkin told me that I do, right after the cèilidh,” he said with a teasing look.

  “That does not answer my question.”

  “Even if I tell you that he told your twin that I do?”

  “She did not mention that to me, however.”

  “Aw, lassie, you must ken fine that I do. But we both know that no one in our families will want to hear that I do,” he added soberly.

  “But I do love you, too, Will, so we can worry about all that and sort it out later. When will I see you again?”

  “We cannot meet every day without leaving trails for others to see, but I’ll watch for your kerchiefs and cairns and you can watch for my cairns at the stream.”

  “The pail-and-smack stream,” she said with a grin. “Aye, good, but you should not walk our ridge so often for a time, I think, sir. Not only has Da put more men out, but you should also rest your ankle. Art sure ’twas your only injury?”

  “I have a few bruises, too,” he admitted. Pulling her close again to kiss her and making an even more thorough job of it this time, he realized that his head was no longer aching and decided she was good medicine for him.

  There was one thing that still worried him, though.

  “Look here,” he said, holding her away again, “you haven’t told your parents about that declaration of yours, have you?”

  “Nae,” she said with a sigh. “I am not brave enough to do that alone. If you were willing to stand with me, I could tell them.”

  “Aye, perhaps, but we cannot do that without talking more first, and planning,” he said. “The way things are now …”

  “Aye,” she said, nodding when he paused. “But I should tell you, sir, that I never understood love until I realized how much I feared for you, knowing that you were likely in the battle at Loch Moigh. If only you could come to us and take shelter at Finlagh. We could tell my parents then, together.”

  Will shook his head. “I cannot, Katy. I would be deserting Aly, and like it or not, I still owe duty to de Raite.”

  “No one would blame you for leaving him, though, and you can bring Aly with you,” she said impulsively. “I mean it, Will. You would both be welcome.”

  “Do you think so? I do not, because de Raite would declare war on Finlagh.”

  “Aly says your father does not care about her. Also, she could marry Gilli Roy.”

  “I ken fine who you mean, because she told me about him, but that would make everything much worse. I know Aly thinks de Raite does not care about her, but she is his daughter, lass, and I can assure you that he would wreak havoc if she ran away and tried to marry a Mackintosh. As for what Malcolm would do—”

  “But surely, de Raite would not test Malcolm’s strength again? Not now.”

  “Perhaps, but with all that has happened, tempers are too high on both sides for reason to prevail. I want you more than I can say, Katy-love,” he added. “We will find a way, but it will be through wisdom and patience, not by running away.”

  Argus and Eos met Katy some yards from where she had left them, but Rory had kept his word and stayed put. His curiosity was evident, and he waited bare seconds after spotting her before demanding to know if she had seen Will.

  “Aye, he is safe,” she said quietly. “But do not ask more questions, because I do not want to talk. We will go back to Finlagh.�


  “Sakes, were he vexed wi’ ye? He shouldna—”

  “I told you to ask no more questions, Rory. I mean it. I need to think.”

  “Aye then, I’m mum, but ye must ken fine that it be nearly time for supper.”

  “I know, so we must hurry.”

  Parting from the boy when they arrived in the courtyard, Katy went inside and found Clydia upstairs in their bedchamber with Bridgett. That they had been talking was evident when both turned to her and then looked at each other.

  Recalling Bridgett’s reaction to Lochan earlier and having no wish to discuss Will in her presence, Katy said to Clydia, “Have you asked her why she stormed away from Lochan and slammed the kitchen door?”

  “I have,” Clydia said. “However, you arrived before she told me anything more than that she is furious with him.”

  “We saw that much ourselves,” Katy said, beginning to untie her kirtle laces, thereby releasing dry leaves that had caught in them while she’d crouched in the bushes behind the Stone. “What did he do now, Bridgett?”

  “I hung your russet-colored kirtle on yon hook for ye,” Bridgett said with a gesture toward the garment, looking askance at the leaves. “As tae Lochan, the man must be mad. Ye ken fine that his mam kens Granny Rosel and me own mam.”

  “Everyone for miles knows Granny Rosel,” Clydia said. “Most of them also know that Ailvie is Mam’s attire woman.”

  “Aye, that be true, and ye ken fine that Lochan’s mam lives nigh them, aye?”

  Impatiently, Katy said, “We know them all, Bridgett. What did Lochan do?”

  “The dafty asked his mam does she like me.”

  Katy rolled her eyes, and Clydia said, “But what is wrong with that, Bridgett? I should think that any man would want his mother to like the lass he might … that is, to like any woman that he liked.”

  “Aye, sure, but that isna Bruce Lochan,” Bridgett said, adding indignantly, “The dafty told me his mam said she were a good friend o’ mine. I dinna ken that I’d call her a good friend, being as she’s years older than what I am. She speaks kind tae me, though, and I ha’ always been courteous tae her.”

  “I still fail to see why you are angry with Lochan,” Clydia said.

  “Then I’ll tell ye plain, m’lady. The man straight out told me that he doesna like his mam’s friends!”

  “Oh,” Clydia said, and though her mouth was still open, she left it at that.

  Katy bit her lower lip hard, wanting to laugh but knowing she would hurt Bridgett’s feelings if she did. Then thoughts of Will swept back, making her wish she could talk as openly with someone, just to say everything that she was thinking and feel safe doing so. It was the first time in her life that she had not shared every thought with her twin. But at the thought of seeking Clydia’s advice about Will Comyn, a cloud of doubt swirled into her mind.

  Clydia disapproved of her meetings with Will. She would likely react just as their parents would to news of Katy’s declaration of marriage to him.

  Sakes, her inner voice muttered, the one who knows more about all of this than anyone else is that scamp Rory. I certainly cannot discuss it with him!

  De Raite was waiting for Will, clearly furious. “Did ye think tae avoid me again, sir? Where the devil ha’ ye been keeping yerself since ye got home?”

  Will knew that his anger was more about how long it had taken him and Dae to get home from Moigh than anything that happened afterward. He listened quietly to what de Raite said and apologized when it seemed appropriate. He explained his injuries and how he had acquired them, and when de Raite began to repeat himself, Will asked him pointedly about the outcome for the rest of their men.

  “We lost nigh two-thirds o’ them, thanks tae them treacherous Mackintoshes. Ye and Dae were nae help tae us either, it seems,” de Raite added snidely.

  “No man can do more than his best, sir. None of us expected them to ambush us as they did. They must have placed themselves at a distance long before we drew nigh, but none of our own lads or our allies reported such movement as there must have been for Malcolm to have gathered such a force and got them into place.”

  “Aye, but someone ought tae ha’ seen it,” de Raite snapped. Will did not rise to bait so plain but let him rant until de Raite added, “Come tae that, ye be one o’ them who ought tae ha’ seen them. I ken fine that Fin sent his man Lochan wi’ a host o’ men. Ye must ha’ missed their departure from Finlagh. Tell Liam I want him tae take your patrol for the nonce. Ye’ll stay here tae rest your foot and mayhap think on keepin’ your useless opinions tae yourself for a time.”

  No one commented on Katy’s afternoon absence, so she hoped to avoid discussing it at all. However, she and Clydia had no sooner gotten into bed and seen Bridgett depart than Clydia said, “Did you see him? Is he safe?”

  “Aye, he is,” Katy replied, fluffing up a pillow.

  “Is that all you mean to tell me? Was he wounded?”

  “He hurt his ankle and has a few bruises.”

  “So he did fight with the Comyns against our people.”

  “He did not know that de Raite meant to attack Malcolm,” Katy said flatly. “No one, let alone de Raite himself, told him where they were going.”

  “Or so your Will says,” Clydia said mildly. “He is bound to be loyal to his clan, Kate, and to fight whenever his father or brothers say he must.”

  “He said neither he nor his Lowland cousin knew de Raite’s intentions until they reached Loch Moigh. Malcolm’s men had laid an ambush. Will is lucky to have escaped death.”

  Clydia was silent.

  “You think he is lying to me,” Katy said at last. “He would not do that, for he dislikes lying or even shading the truth, Clydie. Moreover, he cares for me—deeply—and I … I love him.”

  “You think you do,” Clydia said. “You scarcely know the man, Kate. Moreover, he began your so-called relationship with a lie.”

  “He did not lie,” Katy said, her tone sharpening. Striving to sound as calm as Clydia was, she added, “He did not admit that he was a Comyn straightaway, but you know why he did not. Despite that, I felt then and I feel now as if I have known and loved him forever. Sakes, Clydie, the man saved my life, and the truth is that I hope to spend the rest of it with him.”

  “Katy, you know you cannot do that. Da will never allow it.”

  “He cannot stop it. I …” Realizing what she had nearly said, she fought to think of words that would make it sound logical or at least—

  “Just what do you mean by that,” Clydia demanded, silencing Katy’s thoughts. “Our father would do anything he had to do to stop such a wedding.”

  Tears welled in Katy’s eyes, and her throat tightened so she could not speak.

  “Well?” Clydia said. “You know I’m right.”

  Swallowing hard, Katy said, “’Tis too late. Do you recall Brother Julian?”

  Sitting upright, her anger visible in the moon’s pale light through the unshuttered window, Clydia exclaimed, “Do you mean to say that Will Comyn declared you marri— But nae,” she said, correcting herself dryly. “He would not know of Brother Julian unless you told him. You did it yourself, did you not?”

  Katy’s voice failed her again, but Clydia’s did not. “Have you gone mad, Kate?” She went right on from there, giving free rein to her anger.

  Unlike Katy, Clydia rarely lost her temper, but when she did, it was fiery, even explosive, and often loud. Katy nearly always tried, unsuccessfully, to defend herself. This time, she did not try.

  She knew that Clydia was right in many ways. She should not have acted as she had; their parents would be angry; and worst of all, she did not know what Will’s father might do in response to her declaration of marriage. Come to that, if de Raite found out and forbade it, Katy did not know if Will would support the declaration.

  Nevertheless, she
listened until her twin had had her say.

  Even then, she was quiet.

  “Have you naught to say?” Clydia demanded.

  “I love him, Clydie. I know you think I’m daft or even mad, but since that first day I have felt as if, next to Da, Will is the best and kindest man I know. I trust him and I want him. If I cannot have him, I will refuse to marry anyone else.”

  Chapter 16

  De Raite’s sour mood continued for several days while messenger after messenger arrived from his erstwhile allies to report their losses.

  Finally, into a long silence at the midday meal on the last day of June, Hew said, “It has occurred tae me that, wi’ so few allies left tae us, if the Malcolmtosh decides tae attack us, he might just snatch Raitt back for hisself.”

  De Raite rounded on him with a snarl, saying, “That will never happen, Hew Comyn. Not whilst I be alive tae prevent it!”

  Softly but nonetheless daringly, Alyssa said, “Mayhap the Mackintosh will offer us a more peaceful solution, Father. ’Tis likely that he and his allies lost many men, too. He may want to seek—”

  “Leave the table!” de Raite bellowed, half rising from his two-elbow chair. “This be men’s talk and none for witless females!”

  Flushing deeply, Aly jumped up from her back-stool and fled.

  Without a word, Meggie followed her.

  Forcing himself to speak calmly, Will said, “If Aly should be right, sir, surely you would not spurn such an offer.”

  Livid with fury, de Raite surged to his feet, shoving the heavy chair over behind him. “This meal be over,” he snapped. “All o’ ye, every last man o’ ye, get outside and get back tae your chores. I dinna want tae see your faces again today.”

  Two evenings later, a full moon had no sooner risen above the eastern horizon than a dark shadow began slowly but surely to creep across it, covering nearly all of it and stirring many residents of Raitt to express concern over this newest astronomical event. It took more than two hours for the shadow to pass.

  Most folks had seen a partial lunar eclipse before, but as Meggie told Will, “’Tis gey ominous, sir, coming so soon after the sun disappeared. Folks still be frettin’ about the end o’ the world.”

 

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