by Blair, Willa
“Well, there has been a fair amount of arguing about which way to go,” Cat told Iain, as though she’d missed, or was ignoring, Cam’s possible slur. “Cam favored finding a port and a friendly ship. Kenneth judged heading toward Aberdeen too risky, given what we were seeing of the countryside. He hoped to avoid the armies by going farther inland.” She shrugged. “So here we are.”
“Almost in the middle of the conflict,” Iain growled and cut a glare at Kenneth.
“But no’ quite,” Kenneth reminded him. “Cat is safe…”
“Catherine, if ye please,” she said with a frown.
He ignored her. “I mean to get Cat home to Rose. Sutherland can continue north from there. It should be simple enough to find a ship in Inverness—”
“Perhaps no’,” Iain interrupted him. “Once Domnhall’s army goes through there again, I dinna ken what will be left. He brought gallowglass men with him.”
“Irish warriors?” Cat frowned. “Why?”
“Irish and Scots,” Kenneth supplied, recalling their shrill battle cries and merciless skill with any weapon. “They were among the fiercest men I fought beside in France.”
“Fierce drinkers, too,” Sutherland added with a wink at Cat.
“I’m aware,” Kenneth replied dryly. Painfully aware, as it happened. He turned back to Iain. “And still, with their help, Domnhall did no’ win the day?”
Iain pursed his lips. “He tried to bring the English in to support him, but they refused. And nay, no’ even with the gallowglass. Our force was larger, but the Earl of Mar brought more than caterans. His mounted knights took a heavy toll on our infantry.”
“Ye dinna seem in a hurry to be away. Are they no’ chasing Domnhall’s forces?” Kenneth asked.
“Oddly, nay. Likely Mar has retreated to Aberdeen in case Domnhall changed his mind and decided to make good on his threat to torch the town. I’m uneasy lagging behind, but I owe it to our men.” He paused and studied Cat with narrowed eyes. “What I canna decide is whether ye would be safer remaining with the larger group of Brodies, or to continue on as ye have done.” His gaze shifted to the men with her. “Ye can cover ground more quickly than the men on foot can travel, to get my wife’s sister home to Rose.”
Kenneth thought back on the nights they’d already spent on their journey. To keep her safe and away from Sutherland, he’d endured the sweet pain of sleeping with Cat nearby, even in his arms. She’d be safer with the Brodies. Safer from him. He nodded. “It would be good to have some company for a few days. Once we near Brodie, we’ll leave ye and go on to Rose. I promised to return her home.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cat open her mouth—to object, most likely—but then she closed it again and kept her gaze on the burn burbling alongside them. He glanced at Sutherland, who shrugged.
“What’s another few days? I’ll get home soon enough, either way. In the meantime, I’ll be able to continue to enjoy the company of this lovely lass.”
“Stop it, Cam,” Cat interjected. “Iain does no’ ken yer sense of humor like I do.”
“I would never jest about a beautiful Highland Rose.”
Kenneth could see Iain and Cat thought Sutherland was teasing, but he wasn’t. Sutherland appeared to be one of those men who took his pleasure anywhere he found it, which is why Kenneth kept Cat close each night. He’d seen the type before and knew Cat would be defenseless against the northerner’s charm, should he get Cat alone and put it on full display.
Cat had said she still was innocent, and last night proved he had no reason to doubt her word. Two years ago, they’d come close, Cat and he, to making their marriage inevitable, but had come to their senses in time.
How he regretted their restraint now. He would have had a soft, warm, fiercely loving woman by his side, and perhaps a bairn or two by now. Instead, he’d seen and done things that would weigh on his conscience as long as he lived. He’d betrayed his friend and laird by deserting his kin. And in turn been betrayed by that she-devil, Marilee, who had taught him what it meant to have a broken heart.
He and Cat could have been together these past two years, and he would not have gone to France.
Chapter 10
That evening around the campfire, the men began telling tales of Red Harlaw, so called for the amount of blood spilled that day. Lively music drifted over from another campfire beyond the crest of a nearby hill, an odd and unseemly counterpoint to the horror of their tales. “Who is doing that?” Catherine asked.
“Some of the gallowglass,” Iain answered, his tone clipped. “They fought for Domnhall. They’re close by, headed west like the rest of Domnhall’s army.”
Kenneth stiffened, but didn’t elaborate on Iain’s comment. Instead, the men continued with their tales.
Catherine hated hearing the details, but curiosity drove her to listen.
“They killed the camp followers, ye ken? Lasses and bairns, all of ’em,” someone said.
Catherine shuddered.
An older voice rose above the general murmur of the others. “In none of our battles have I ever seen so much blood. So many innocents slaughtered…” Someone tossed a stick onto the fire. A shower of sparks drifted up like the souls of the dead.
Shocked, Catherine exchanged a glance with Kenneth. Thank the saints they’d arrived too late for him to join the fight. He’d been right. She should not have been with him—not for a battle such as that. His stern expression said plainly she should have boarded a ship in the St. Andrews harbor when he told her to. But she hadn’t, and she was here. They were lucky the worst of the fighting was over.
After listening to the stories, Catherine was certain she’d never get to sleep tonight. Cam bedded down away from the campfire, claiming with his northern blood he would rest better away from its heat. Kenneth made his bed next to hers. “I’ll no abandon ye, lass,” he told her. “No’ in the midst of all these men. Brodies are one thing, but men of other clans—and lands—are nearby. I willna leave ye alone.”
His nearness was a great comfort, as well as a great temptation. But what could they do in the midst of an armed camp?
Rolled up in her blankets, she watched the stars move across the sky. Sleep eluded her. She’d seen and heard too much this day. It was more than she knew how to handle. Suddenly, she wanted to go home. Despite how much she wanted to be with Kenneth, and as much as she dreaded facing her father’s wrath, she was tired of all of this. She needed to be safe behind Rose’s walls.
Her thoughts took a darker turn. She feared how her father would punish her for running away. She’d left him a note berating him for his attempts to marry her off. Once he got her back, he’d force her into a marriage she didn’t want and lock her in her chamber until it was done. And once he found out how she’d gotten away, he’d know Mary had to be involved and he’d punish her, too. Catherine deeply regretted involving her eldest sister, but she never would have succeeded without her help. Now Mary would pay for her kindness. He’d kill Kenneth if he assumed she’d been ruined on the trip home—if not before then. And if Cam was still with them, he would see it all, which would embarrass her father before Sutherland when Cam returned home to tell the tale.
She should have obeyed her father. She should have…nay, she mustn’t think this way. Mary would be there, and once Da settled down, everything would work out. Kenneth would speak with him and ask again for her hand. She and Mary would make sure their father agreed this time, and her future—their future, hers and Kenneth’s—would unfold as she imagined it. As she had spent the last two years longing for it. But first, they had to survive this trip.
Drunken laughter and singing from a campfire beyond the next hillside added to her discomfort. Despite Kenneth’s clansmen around her, she did not truly feel safe.
* * *
The next morning, Kenneth woke her before sunup. He held a bundle in his hands. “Take this with ye when ye go…to be private…and put these clothes on.”
“What…why?” Ca
therine sat up, still sleep-fuddled from lying awake long into the night before finally dropping off. She pushed aside the plaid that had kept her warm during the night. It wasn’t Kenneth, but it had served, since he would not hold her in his arms in the midst of these Brodies as he had often done to keep her warm since they’d left St. Andrews. It was his way of keeping Cam at bay. But the reason wasn’t as important as having Kenneth’s arms around her, his body stretched out behind hers, his heat and hunger for her making her feel safe and loved…and full of hope he would fall in love with her again.
They both knew Iain would be furious if she behaved with anything less than complete respectability. She could understand why. As his wife’s sister, her actions would reflect on him. But having Kenneth so near and yet untouchable rankled.
Now, Kenneth’s words made no sense. The clothes she wore sufficed these past days while they’d traveled. She could see no reason for him to give her new ones.
“They’re a lad’s clothes, Cat.” He spoke quickly, his tone impatient. “We’re in the midst of Domnhall’s army, so ’tis too dangerous for ye to be seen as ye are—for ye and for Brodie.”
She lifted a hand to her throat. “What do ye mean?”
“There are no’ so many Brodie men here. We canna protect ye from all the others.”
“My being here puts Brodie at risk?” Catherine’s belly clenched. “Iain, too? I never meant…”
“I ken, lass. Iain does, too. He wants ye safe, but no more than I do.”
The urgency in his voice had been replaced by yearning. Reassured, she took the bundle and tucked it under one arm.
Kenneth took her other hand and helped her up. “Go on and change before it gets too light. I’ll stay nearby. Do ye need help with yer dress?” His expression went from earnest concern to a quick grin he knew she couldn’t resist. He must be thinking about the night in the inn.
She slapped at his hand and stepped away. “I can dress myself, thank ye.” Then she gave him an answering smile. She hadn’t needed his help that night. She’d wanted it. His teasing lightened the fear and dismay the bundle of clothes had made her feel. “As a lad, what will my position be in this army?”
Kenneth’s eyebrows lifted. “Position?” He shrugged. “The idea is to make ye invisible, Cat, ’tis all.”
“I’ll be yer groom, then, so I can stay with ye,” she announced with a saucy toss of her head.
Kenneth swallowed. He lifted a hand, then shook his head. “I’ve a bonnet for ye, as well, to hide yer hair.”
Had he been about to tangle his fingers in her hair?
“As for the other,” Kenneth continued, his tone serious, “I dinna ken whether Iain will approve…”
She straightened, determined. “Iain will no’ have a choice. If I canna stay by ye, I’ll…I’ll go back to St. Andrews.” The thought of the return trip, and of what they’d seen on the way here, daunted her, but, she continued, “Cam will escort me, I’m sure.”
“Dinna be daft, lass.” He rolled his eyes. “Ye canna go back there. And certainly no’ with Sutherland. I dinna trust him with ye.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Very well, ye’ll stay by me. I’d rather ye did, anyway.” He grinned again, longer this time, and for a moment seemed more like the younger Kenneth she’d fallen in love with. Then he brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers and he was the Kenneth of today, older, perhaps wiser, more certain of himself.
Catherine gave him a triumphant smile and headed for the nearest patch of bracken and shrubs. He cared. She hadn’t realized how much she needed reassurance until he gave it to her.
Kenneth followed, then took up a position with his back to her as she waded into the brush. She needn’t have threatened him with Cam. He’d never meant to let her leave him. Her plan was working. By the time they got to Rose, he’d be ready to demand her hand and give her da no chance to deny him. Perhaps Iain might even back him in refusing to take no for an answer. Or she might even be able to convince him to handfast before they reached Rose.
Heartened, she pulled and tugged as her dress caught on branches, and fought her way through the undergrowth to a clearing large enough to move about as much as she needed to undress. It would give her enough cover to complete her transformation from a lass to a lad. Whether the illusion would hold once the sun came up, well, she’d know soon enough.
* * *
When Iain first spotted Kenneth’s new groom, his double-take told Kenneth the disguise would serve, at least from a distance. Iain hadn’t recognized Cat right away, and if Iain didn’t know her for a lass in the first moment, no one else would either. The challenge would be to prevent men from other clans from coming too close. Kenneth would keep her riding at his side, or have her mount up behind him where she could duck behind his shoulder. For the first time since they’d left St. Andrews, Kenneth felt like he could truly keep Cat safe.
Iain seemed content to ignore their arrangement. While Kenneth had expected an argument, apparently Iain had decided their ruse would add another layer of protection for his wife’s sister and went on about his business without comment.
Cam’s approach leading his horse and a roan mare put Kenneth on guard all over again. The northerner’s expression didn’t change until he got within speaking distance, then he winked at Cat, then turned to Kenneth. “Since ye allowed yer laird Iain to give two of our mounts to some of his wounded men, I find it exceedingly kind of Mar to lose so many mounted men, leaving their horses roaming the hills, available for our use. Perhaps yer…groom…could take charge of this one as well as the one ye do have? So ye willna have to ride double…”
Cat snorted a laugh as she took the reins he offered. “Saw right through me, did ye?”
Cam shook his head. “Honestly? Nay, no’ until I got closer. I wondered at first where Brodie had found a young lad for a companion and what he’d done with ye. That gave me a moment of contentment, thinking ye might have to turn to me for yer care.”
“Over my dead body,” Kenneth growled.
Cam’s eyebrows lifted and he glanced around. “That would be all too easy to arrange, Brodie. I dinna suggest ye repeat those words too often or too loudly…for yer own good, aye?” He gave Kenneth a stare suddenly and completely lacking in humor.
Kenneth laid a hand on the hilt of the claymore slung over his mount’s withers. “Keep yer distance, Sutherland. I’m warning ye—“
“Both of ye stop it right now!” Cat broke in. “I’m no’ horseflesh for ye to argue over, much less come to blows. I’ll do as I see fit…” she skewered first one man, then the other, with her narrowed gaze, “whether either of ye like it or nay.”
Kenneth wanted to applaud, but Cat was still spitting mad and Sutherland looked like he couldn’t decide whether to burst out laughing or pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. Kenneth narrowed his eyes at the other man. “Ye heard me, Sutherland. Back off.”
Sutherland nodded and took a step back, then put one foot in the stirrup and mounted. “Ye can be sure, Brodie, I’ll be nearby.”
“That is good enough,” Cat broke in again. “Now get out of my sight, Cameron Sutherland, before I take a claymore to ye myself.” She lifted her chin. “And thank ye for the horse.”
Sutherland threw back his head and laughed, then jerked the reins to turn his horse around and rode off, still laughing.
The corner of Kenneth’s mouth lifted as he stared at his back.
“And what do ye think is so funny?” Cat demanded as Kenneth made a stirrup of his hands and helped her mount. “I’m mad at ye, too, ye ken.”
He nodded, but couldn’t seem to wipe the grin from his face as he stared up at her. “I ken it. But ye stayed with me.” He shouldn’t, but he felt lighter than he had in days.
Cat sat up straighter in the saddle and cocked her head to the side. “Ye like that?”
“Aye.”
“Good,” she said on a smirk and dug her heels into her mount’s side. “Now let’s go. The sooner I g
et ye to myself, the better.”
Kenneth took off after her, his heart pounding a beat wilder than the sound of his horses’ hooves. When it came to a head, Cat had chosen him over Sutherland. And wanted to get him alone? What had she done with the shy and proper lass? Put her away along with the lass’s clothing? Was it the breeks he’d made her don? Suddenly, he had a saucy tease on his hands—one dressed as a lad, aye, but he didn't care one whit. Not that she behaved as a wanton. But this boldness was beyond anything he’d ever seen in her—except for the day in the library when she’d challenged him to teach her. Aye, he’d teach her. How could he resist her when she challenged him again and again? Naked under the sheets in the inn? God’s bones. He was going to succumb if he couldn't make her behave. The problem was, he didn’t want her to stop. He wanted his Cat. His Cat. But her da had denied them once. Even after Kenneth escorted her safely across half of Scotland, he feared the Rose would still refuse to let them wed.
Then again, what if she didn’t remain safe—from him? Was that what she had in mind? His Cat was a devious lass, no doubt. As devious as her older sisters, and then some, if she’d learned from them as well as he suspected she had. Suddenly, despite the army around them and the gallowglass mercenaries that worried him the most, he looked forward to the rest of the trip. Consequences be damned.
Chapter 11
Catherine stuck close by Kenneth the rest of the day. He kept them in the middle of the thickest group of Brodies, the better to shield her from others’ eyes, she knew. She also knew he chafed to ride point with Iain by the way his gaze followed Iain’s every move, only darting away to check the hillsides they passed between.