by Blair, Willa
Kenneth watched her go with a heavy heart, knowing he might never see her again, and that he was leaving her wounded.
Even after she disappeared, he could hear her telling her cousin she’d gone down for the things she needed to repair a rent in the sleeve of a gown. She would not give him away.
He took the candle and stepped into the back room. It was filled with skeins of wool, trays of buttons, spindles of threads, and more. There was a door, as Cat had promised. He moved to it and opened it a crack. It led to an alley as she’d described. He closed the door and put his back against it, studying the area around him. If he had to hide, there was barely enough space below a worktable for a man his size, but little else. If someone approached, his best option would be to go out the door to the alley and continue on his way.
Without seeing Cat again.
He need wait only a few hours, until the castle settled down, the town went to sleep, and the guards became less vigilant. He lowered himself to the floor in the corner by the door, blew out the candle, and willed himself to rest as he’d learned to do in France before a battle. The coming journey would be hard.
When he woke, he checked outside. Judging by the predawn stillness, he deemed enough time had passed. The town would stir in another hour at most. The port was too risky. The only other option meant going across country. South, not north toward the firth of Forth as they would expect. South, he might be able to catch a ship. He didn’t care where it was bound, even the Highlands. Or back to France. For the near term, travel both north and west were out of the question.
Then he heard someone coming down the stairs, the tread light and careful. Cat? Or Abi? Or someone else who knew he was here.
“’Tis Catherine,” she softly said. “Are ye still here?”
He breathed a sigh of relief as he moved quietly to the doorway into the shopfront and met her. She wore a day dress this time, and carried the same lantern. “I told ye no’ to come back down here.”
“I have news.” She walked toward the back of the shop and set down the lantern. “I overheard two men talking as they walked by outside my window. They said they’ve put out the fire at the castle and declared all’s well. They made no mention of a missing man. There’s been nay alarm to say ye are gone.”
“Are Abi and her stepfather still abed?”
“Aye, he and Abi both are sleeping. I burned yer letter.”
She stepped closer. Close enough to fold in his arms, if he dared. He did. She stepped into his embrace without hesitation, and lay her head on his shoulder.
“I couldna rest without telling ye. Ye are safe, at least until the castle rouses. But I wish ye dinna have to go. Or that I could go with ye.”
* * *
As soon as she spoke, Catherine wished her words away, fearful they would reinforce Kenneth’s earlier refusal to take her with him. She did want to go with him, but not home. She had seen enough longing in his gaze, enough hesitation when he tried to convince her he didn’t care for her, to make her hope he still did. She had dreamed about returning to Brodie as his wife. His expression didn’t give her any encouragement. His brows drew down and his lips compressed as though he was holding back telling her how foolish she was being. How little he desired her—or her company.
“Ye said there was someone else.” The words left her lips almost before the thought crossed her mind. “Did ye marry her?”
“Why would ye think that?”
The sudden hint of a grin playing on his lips reminded her of the Kenneth she fell in love with—and it made her angry. He thought her broken heart amusing? “Ye ken what I mean. Ye lay with her. Ye might have married her.” She stepped back and crossed her arms. Kenneth’s expression smoothed, then he frowned, and the crease between his brows grew fiercer as she put some distance between them.
“Nay, I didna marry, though I could have.”
Catherine’s heart dropped into her belly. “Ye loved her?”
“I thought I did. I was wrong.”
Relief flooded her and made her reach for support to the nearest cabinet. The wood was dented and battered under her fingertips, much like her emotions at the moment.
“That’s why ye were gone so long, aye?”
He frowned and nodded.
“Did ye ever love me?” She forced out the words, needing the answer though she didn’t want it, not really. Not if his answer was nay.
“Did I ever love ye? Why are ye no’ asking what ye really wish to ken?”
She swallowed hard. “What is that?”
“Whether I love ye still.”
Catherine clung to the cabinet top, the knuckles of her hand as pale as bleached muslin. “Apparently ye dinna, or ye would have sought me out before now. And ye would no’ have avoided me when ye found me here.”
Kenneth scrubbed a hand over his face. “Ye are wrong, lass. When I heard ye were to be married, I loved ye enough to do what was best for ye and stay away.”
“Best for me?” Catherine’s pulse raced. How dare he assume he’d sacrificed what they’d shared—sacrificed her—for her own good? “Ye had nay idea what was best for me then. Ye still dinna ken.”
“Wrong again.” He reached out and smoothed a lock of hair from her shoulder.
His touch made Catherine want to crumple at his feet and beg him to keep her with him always. Perhaps she was being as foolish now as he had been then. Yet she vowed she could love him enough for both of them. He could grow to love her again as he had then, not just care for her or want her or want to protect her. “Am I wrong? Why did ye no’ come to me once ye kenned I was here?”
“And put ye at risk?” His mouth softened. “I couldna let ye come to harm.” He crossed his arms. “And now I have refused the bishop’s hospitality, I’m even more of a danger to ye. Yet, ye could be in peril on yer own, if ye are known here as a Highlander.”
“What if I am?” Ice slid down Catherine’s spine. Despite Cam’s warnings, she’d never seriously considered she, too, might be in danger. She’d made the journey here safely. She had a safe place to stay. Or did she? Both Cam and Kenneth thought St. Andrews would not remain safe for long.
“Trouble is coming. If it goes badly for Highlanders, ye could be made a prisoner, too.”
“A prisoner!”
He glanced around the shop as if seeking answers on the shelves, then took her hands in his.
“Damn it, I dinna want to do this, but ye must come with me.”
Catherine’s heart soared, then crashed again. His touch felt so familiar, so good, she knew she had not imagined that the bond between them still existed. Yet he didn’t want her with him. He only felt obligated to see to her safety. And what would Abi and her father think if she suddenly disappeared? There was the excuse she needed to stay right here if Kenneth did not want her enough to marry her. “I canna go with ye. My cousin will worry.”
“She will worry more when Albany’s men come for ye.”
The image that formed in her mind froze her breath in her chest as she recalled what Cam had told her about a Highlander being arrested at the harbor. “Ye canna be serious.” Yet his gaze had hardened, drawing his brows down into a forbidding line.
“I am, Cat. I’ve never been more serious.”
Cat, she thought drily. She was still a wee lass to him. Hence his fierce expression, so like her father’s when he chastised her. “Catherine,” she reminded him with force, determined to make him see her as a woman grown.
He ignored her warning. “I willna leave ye to be harmed, no’ if there’s a chance I can keep ye safe.”
“Ye left me before.”
“Ye were in nay danger.”
“That’s what ye think. Da wouldha married me off to—”
He tugged on her hands, stopping her complaint. “We’ve nay time for this, lass. We need to be ready to go through the town gate with the Angelus bell.”
Still reluctant, she offered another excuse. “I should leave Abi a note.”
�
��Nay, ye canna.” Kenneth went to the back door and glanced outside, then closed it softly. “Nary a soul is stirring. Is there a woman’s cloak in the shop? Ye need more than yer shift and a thin dress.” He glanced at the soft slippers peeking out below the hem of her dress. “And ye need yer boots.”
“Mine are upstairs.”
Kenneth clenched his fists, then nodded. “Get them. Be silent. If ye wake yer kin, ye’ll no’ be able to explain what ye are about.”
Catherine hesitated. This was not the way she’d imagined her dream of being with Kenneth coming true. Somehow, it didn’t feel dreamlike at all.
“Go on with ye,” he growled, gesturing with the candle toward the front of the shop. “We canna delay much longer.”
Catherine nodded and moved silently away. She couldn’t believe they were about to go on the run. She grumbled to herself as she dug through the belongings she had with her for the sturdy travel dress she’d worn on the way here. This was not the sort of reunion she’d spent the last two years imagining. Kenneth was practically kidnapping her—with her reluctant cooperation. She found the dress she sought and decided it would be wise to wear it over the one she had on. The heavy fabric slid over her head and settled on her shoulders along with the weight of her decision to go with Kenneth. She’d come here alone, running from her father. By chance, she’d found the man she loved, but they were going to run from the crown, possibly back to her father. Could her life get any worse?
It could, she supposed, if something happened to Kenneth before they got back to Brodie. But somehow she knew this new Kenneth, so different from the easy-going lad of two years ago, could handle any challenge they faced. He would protect her. Yet, she missed the light-hearted lad he’d been. Where was the Kenneth she had fallen in love with?
She belted the dress and bent to retrieve her boots. She dared not don them until she made her way—silently—downstairs. She slung her cloak around her shoulders and grabbed the bundle of belongings she didn’t want to leave behind, then minced in her stocking feet to the pantry and added dried fish, bread and cheese. Certainly, they would need something to eat.
Would they sail home? Since no one seemed to be looking for Kenneth yet, surely making their way to the harbor would be the quickest way to leave St. Andrews. In which case, they wouldn’t need the provisions. She almost put them back, hating to steal food from Abi and her father, but practicality won. She didn’t know what Kenneth planned. She didn’t want to starve.
Should she leave a note? Kenneth seemed to think doing so would be dangerous, but she knew how Abi would fret, and with her marriage to Colin in shambles, Abi would be upset enough already without adding Catherine’s disappearance to her worries. She was running out of time. Abi’s stepfather would be up before the sun to open his shop to early customers. Abi would sleep later and only take her stepfather something to break his fast after he’d been at work for hours.
Sentiment won over practicality. She found a scrap of parchment, then wrote only that she was well and not to worry. She’d contact Abi when she could. The note would be safe anywhere in the kitchen, since Abi and she were the only ones who came in here. Abi had once remarked, without her, her father would starve unless someone took him in. Catherine counted on his habit to keep her safe for enough hours to get away. She hoped it would not cause problems.
She wanted Kenneth to see her as an adult. She, too, had to put away her childish notions—all of them. Kenneth might not want to take her with him, but he loved her enough to take the risks he felt required to keep her safe. Love was not something made out of pretty flowers and ribbons and poems. True love was made of this kind of devotion. Of sacrifice. Protection. He did love her. He just didn’t know it yet.
* * *
While Cat was upstairs, Kenneth searched the shop, looking for a weapon. A broadsword would be too much to hope for, but even a dirk would do. The tailor had a pair of good, sharp shears hanging on a peg above his worktable, but only one. Kenneth would not stoop to taking them, stealing the man’s livelihood in the process. Finally, he found a dirk in a dark leather sheath on a shelf in the shop’s back corner. Judging by the other things there, this was where the tailor saved items his customers accidentally left behind. Kenneth tucked the dirk through his belt and felt better for being at least minimally armed.
He turned back to the stairway, anticipating Cat coming down at any moment. At least Cat seemed to understand her peril and was cooperating. Yet, what if she wasn’t? What if she was sitting upstairs, knowing he could not call out her name, or risk going up there. If he woke the tailor—nay, she was smarter than that. She had to go with him.
He had dreamed of having her back in his life and wanted her with him, but not like this. Not on the road, and not in danger. Still, he had no choice. They had no choice, not since Domnhall decided to march on Inverness. Damn the man. Clan Ross had already caused trouble for Brodie. Now Domnhall had made things many times worse; igniting all of the northwestern Highlands.
After hearing Cat had been betrothed, Kenneth never intended to go back to Rose to face Cat’s father. But he’d never expected to see her again, either. He’d thought she’d married and, by now, had children to care for. He expected she’d forgotten him and settled into a new life with another man. Fate played cruel tricks on mortal men—and women. He didn’t yet know if bringing them back together counted as such.
Nor had he planned on returning to Brodie. He’d intended to go anywhere but there. Yet, because Cat was also in danger, he would do his duty to her and get her home. At the moment, he had no idea what he’d do after he returned her to her father. He could only deal with one problem of such magnitude at a time.
Kenneth knew he was the last person Cat should trust, and that truth tore at him. Yet, she did. Her trust warmed him, a feeling he could scarce afford. He had to keep his emotions out of this and get them both to safety. Maybe then, he and Cat could find a way back to the love they’d once thought they shared. The love he’d thought her father had forced her to betray—only to find out she hadn’t. The love he had betrayed with a woman who could not measure up to Cat in any way. With the advantage of hindsight, he couldn’t understand why he’d fallen for Marilee. He’d been lonely, he supposed. And angry with Cat’s father, even with Iain. But none of what he’d felt excused the way he’d hurt Cat.
He’d owe her even more if they escaped. The castle guards would be looking for him, but alone. With Cat on his arm, he’d appear to be a townsman, leaving with his wife. He spotted a folded cloak he’d missed before, the same color as the pile of fabric on which it lay. When he shook it out, a hood fell down its back. Perfect. It would cover his head. If he stooped, he’d appear shorter, perhaps older. The gatekeeper would not know his face, and if a castle guard loitered at the gate, looking for him, they’d never suspect a man and woman leaving together.
Chapter 8
When they finally left Cat’s uncle’s shop, Kenneth was displeased to find guards searching the town, for him or someone else, he didn’t know, and he wasn’t about to inquire. Pairs of armed men patrolled the main streets, a few even walked the side streets and narrow closes. His head covered and his posture slumped, he herded Cat carefully from garden to alley, from one possible place of concealment to another, holding his breath as each patrol passed them by without comment. Cat stayed quiet, her face hidden by her hood and kept walking as if nothing were amiss.
“Why are we going away from the port?” she whispered during one pause. “If a Highland ship is docked there, they can take us home.”
“And if there are none, we’ll be caught in the port. We’re better off to make our way cross-country out of one of the south gates.”
“Why?” She grabbed his arm as he started to move, stopping him. “We can go to the harbor. Then I can come back and tell a patrol I saw a lone man headed to the south. I can delay them long enough, ye should have time to get away on any ship in the harbor.” She paused, then added, softly, “Without
me.”
Tempting as a chance to sail home was, he knew she was wrong. He recognized her sacrifice for what it was, too—she was giving up yet again on the two of them. Risking the future she’d hoped for, with the two of them, together. And walking about town, a woman alone out on the street this time of early morning? No way would he allow her to take that risk. He rubbed a hand over his aching chest, sadness making each breath feel heavy and bitter. If she let him leave her, she could not know if she would ever see him again. He couldn’t take the chance. And he wouldn’t let Cat sacrifice herself for him. Just the opposite—it was his place to sacrifice for her.
The guards would keep looking. Even if they had her in irons, they’d still look for him. Anselmo would not willingly let a man in his charge go free. And who knew what the crew of any of those boats would do? Protect him? Or turn him in, hoping for some reward of coin or favorable future treatment from the town’s constable?
“Nay, lass. They willna stop, and they will search the ships in the harbor. We must go another way, and I have an idea, but it means we have a long walk ahead of us.”
“Have ye forgotten? I’m a Highland lass. I’ll keep up with ye.”
At least she’d accepted they would keep moving. As long as she didn’t try to head off on her own, he’d get them away.
Though they reached the gate later than Kenneth had anticipated, their exit went as smoothly as he’d hoped. No one blocked their way out of the gate, though they had to thread through a line of farmers and craftsmen with loaded wagons and carts, each waiting to pay a small share of their goods as a toll to enter within the town walls. Once inside, they would make their way to the mercat cross in the square, where Kenneth had seen their like before.
Hours later, after walking all day, exhausted by moving carefully out of town, hiding when they heard anyone approach, and making a final dash across an open farm field, they reached the tiny croft the owner, Craig Grant, had described to him briefly during one foray to a pub in town with Phillippe. He’d claimed to be loyal to the Isles, though living on the opposite side of Scotland, and had gone on to give Kenneth his home’s location while Phillippe was out of earshot. Kenneth could think of many reasons not to trust the man, but Cat needed rest and he needed to know if word was spreading about his escape, or if anyone yet knew Cat was missing.