The Kissing Stone

by Amanda Scott

  Soon after the midday meal, she was crossing the courtyard when Bridgett emerged from the kitchen and waved at someone a little to Katy’s left, beyond her.

  Turning her head, she saw the broad-shouldered figure of her cousin Àdham’s squire, MacNab, descending the timber stairs from the great hall.

  Bridgett had stopped where she was, and was smiling at the lanky squire.

  Grinning back, he had begun striding eagerly toward her when another, more square-built, fair-haired, visibly angry figure interjected itself between them.

  Katy stopped where she was, catching her lower lip between her teeth.

  Planting himself between Bridgett and MacNab, Lochan faced the squire with jaw and fists clenched. “Bruce MacNab, I’m thinking ye ha’ business enow tae take ye elsewhere. Would ye no agree wi’ that?”

  Eyes atwinkle as he gazed amiably from man to maidservant and back, MacNab said, “Aye, sure, Lochan, if that be your will.”

  “It be safer for ye is what it be,” Lochan growled loudly enough for anyone in the courtyard to hear.

  An odd feminine squeak then drew Katy’s gaze back to Bridgett.

  Her mouth was agape, but it snapped shut when MacNab turned away and Lochan strode purposefully toward her.

  Clapping a hand to her mouth, Bridgett stepped hastily back.

  Lochan quickened his step, scooped her up as if she were a featherweight—which she was not—slung her facedown over a shoulder, and strode off with her toward the main gate, which one of his lads hastily opened for him.

  Tempted though Katy was to follow, she decided not to test Lochan’s temper further than Bridgett had already. While everyone else watched the gateway, she went back inside and found Cat and Clydia taking their ease in the inner chamber.

  “Is all in order outside?” Catriona asked her.

  “I think so,” Katy said, realizing then that she had neglected to check the outbuildings. “Lads are still sweeping, so I’ll look again when we fetch water for the garden. As to that chore, Clydie, you have done more of the heavy chores today than I have. I can fetch the water and see to the garden on my own, if you like.”

  Clydia’s eyes narrowed—as well they might, Katy thought, since she rarely made such offers. Then her twin said, “I would like that, for I mean to ask Bridgett to help me wash my hair this afternoon.”

  “If Lochan has not throttled her,” Katy said with a grin before describing what she had seen.

  Chuckling, Cat said, “I warrant both Bridgett and Lochan can take care of themselves. If you do not see her, Clydia, ask Ailvie or one of the other maids to aid you. As for you, Katy, be sure to take Argus and Eos with you.”

  “Aye, Mam, I will,” Katy assured her.

  Accordingly, an hour or so later, she set off for the woods with the pail, aware that she would have to make the trip at least twice, if not three or four times with a less-than-full pail, since it was still too early for Will to come by.

  There was no sign of him when she made her first and second trips, but she knew that if he were walking toward Finlagh from wherever he traveled, he would likely see her moving back and forth and would wait for her at the stream if he did.

  The third time she went to the stream, Alyssa stepped out of the shrubbery and greeted her with a smile. “Is it not wonderful?” she said. “For you must know of my father’s offer by now. If we are to have peace, we can be true friends, aye?”

  Returning her smile, Katy said, “Certes, we are friends now. Art hoping to meet Will on his return?”

  “Aye, for he left this morning afore I was out of bed. Everything at Raitt is in a bustle now, though, in preparation for Friday’s banquet. So, nae one will miss me. Father has even sent for musicians and jongleurs tae come from Nairn tae amuse the men. I do wish he’d let me attend, too. ’Tis most unfair that he will allow only men tae attend on such a grand occasion.”

  “In troth, Aly, I doubt that my father would allow my mother, my sister, or me to attend even if de Raite did invite us,” Katy said. “Mayhap, after the reconciliation takes place, we can all celebrate together.”

  “I ken fine why Sir Fin might feel so,” Aly said. “I may come here again tomorrow, or— Nae, nae, ’twould be best tae wait till Friday,” she added, nodding. “All will be abustle then, too, and whilst they wait for Father’s guests tae arrive, they will shoo me away, but I willna want tae spend the whole afternoon and evening alone in my bedchamber, even with Meggie tae bear me company.”

  “I must fill my pail and go back,” Katy said, noting that both dogs had curled up near the stream. Their eyes had shut but all four ears were atwitch. “If you wait here, though, I can return to fill it again. One of the men on our ramparts did see me come into the woods and may be wondering what is keeping me.”

  She did not want anyone wondering about that before Will did come.

  Aly shook her head. “I did hope Will would be here. But Father may send someone tae look for me, and whilst Meggie be skilled at diverting them for a short time, I should go. I’ll come again Friday afternoon, though, if I can.”

  “I’ll watch for you then,” Katy said. “We do water my sister’s garden almost every day now that it has grown warmer.”

  “I’ll see you Friday then,” Aly replied as she turned, headed back up the slope, and vanished into the forest.

  Katy finished her watering, tinglingly aware that her kerchief still sat atop shrubbery by the pool. Will had gone out that morning, so likely he had seen it. Even so, she knew she dared not linger long enough to meet him on his return.

  If he went to the Stone, he would know by the lack of cairn or kerchief there that she had not, and Aly would likely tell him that she and Katy had met.

  Will had spent much of his day trying to reconcile his determination to protect Katy’s family with his need to avoid sacrificing his honor by breaking the sacred vow of secrecy he had taken. Recalling Dae’s objections to de Raite’s plan, he wondered for a time if he might confide in the older man and seek his advice.

  Aware as he was, though, that Dae was more Hew’s man than de Raite’s and, Lowlander or not, he was a Comyn and thus an ally, Will knew he dared not risk revealing his relationship with Katy to him, lest he speak of it to Hew or one of the others. He had known the man for too short a time to trust him that much.

  He also realized that, since de Raite now insisted they go in pairs, he could not risk ridding himself of Dae to visit the Stone even to meet Katy and—even if he had to hold his tongue about the damnable banquet—at least take her in his arms one more time before then and tell her he loved her. He dared not let his thoughts dwell on what was to come, though, not with Dae moving silently behind him.

  The man had been right about his ability to move quietly. The birds were singing and they had spotted several deer, including a young stag with a doe.

  If only he might talk to Granduncle Thomas Cummings!

  No sooner did the wish flit through his mind than he pictured Thomas leaning against a fencepost on a sunny morning, talking of honor and loyalty: “’Tis not mere learning about such traits that a lad needs, but the lad’s ability to find courage and wisdom enough to remain loyal to a trust, not blindly, yet to act at once and fix his effort on doing what needs doing.”

  The one thing he knew about Granduncle Thomas was that he had always had a clear vision for himself of the difference between right and wrong.

  To act at once and do what needs doing, Will mused, remembering Aly’s accusation that he often took the easy road, that by the time he decided to do something it was often too late for it to matter.

  Will fixed his thoughts on what, exactly, he had vowed.

  He could think of the easiest way to go about warning the Mackintoshes, but how to keep his vow and act quickly enough to do what needed doing whilst de Raite insisted they go only in pairs he could not imagine. How, h
e wondered, could he leave Raitt only by taking someone else with him and still do the right thing?

  He knew Dae was aching to talk about his own problem, for the man had mentioned it again when they stopped at midday to eat. Dae had guarded his language, but Will had pointed out that the Mackintosh men who patrolled the region were as skilled as he and Dae were at moving stealthily and likely had the same keen hearing of most hunters.

  “Sithee, they must recognize me as easily as I recognize most o’ them, but if one of them were to see us talking, he’d move close, Dae, and you ken fine what we both swore. I do have ken of a place of safety, though, where nae one will come upon us unexpectedly. If you come out with me again tomorrow …”

  “Aye, sure,” Dae said eagerly when Will paused, “I’d liefer avoid the others whilst I be trying tae keep me thoughts tae m’self.”

  Nodding, Will said, “I’ll try to aid you. I have been thinking and I am nearly certain of what you must do, but I know not how best you might do it. If I can work out what I’m thinking, we can talk tomorrow afternoon at a place that few know exists and speak more freely.”

  Dae nodded. “I ha’ wanted tae run like a deer. But I ken fine that this be nae time tae act in haste or out o’ fear.”

  At best, Will thought, his half-formed solution might delay the banquet. At worst, God might deem it a quibble and condemn him to the fires of hell, whither his own, unbeloved father would surely send him if de Raite got the chance.

  All of it would lie in God’s hands but only if Will could eliminate or improve on the immediate imperfections of his plan.

  Every fiber within him shouted that no such plan could possibly work.

  The worst of it was that, once done, its result would fly beyond his control and into the hands of the Fates, long known by all to be capricious … at best.

  Chapter 18

  He was carrying violets again, but as she reached to take them, a large black dog stepped between them, looked at her, and moved on to the forest depths. When she looked back, the violets were gone, but Will held out his arms to her and …

  At the familiar sound of the bedchamber door’s latch, Katy grimaced, sat up, and rubbed her eyes.

  Bridgett came in quietly, her expression sober, and Katy realized that she had not seen the woman since the previous afternoon, when Lochan had draped her over his shoulder and stormed out the main gate with her. Glancing at Clydia, who raised her eyebrows, Katy decided that her twin knew no more than she did.

  As busy as everyone had been the previous day, they had not questioned Bridgett’s failure to aid them in their preparations for bed that night. Such a thing had happened often enough when they were all busy that they had paid little heed.

  Now, without comment or looking at Katy or Clydia, Bridgett carried her pitcher across the room to the washstand and began carefully to pour hot water into the ewer.

  Clydia said, “Is aught amiss, Bridgett? You seem gey somber.”

  “Sakes, I thought ye’d ha’ heard all about it,” Bridgett said grimly. Looking at Katy, she added, “Ye saw what he did for yourself, aye?”

  Clydia said, “She did, Bridgett, but we do not know what happened after Lochan carried you out of the courtyard.”

  Exhaling loudly and with a grimace, Bridgett said, “I expected that them on the ramparts would ha’ told everyone. God kens fine they heard all he said and did tae me and I tae him, for we had a right royal row on the path by the castle.”

  “No one has said aught about that to us,” Clydia said.

  “Likely, Lochan ordered the men to keep quiet,” Katy said.

  “Aye, perhaps, but he didna just say aught tae me; he shouted tae me,” Bridgett said, turning to open the kist that held Clydia’s clothing.

  “We will not ask you what he shouted,” Clydia said gently.

  “Thank ’e m’lady, for I’d no want tae repeat it, but when I tried tae slap his face for it, he caught me by the shoulders and shook me till me hair came unbound and said he did never want tae see me flirting again wi’ men like that MacNab. So I said, ‘And what d’ye think ye can do tae stop me, ye great lunk?’ And what does he ha’ the nerve tae say then but that he’ll stop me by marrying me and putting me straight across his knee again tae make sure of it.”

  “Again?” Katy said.

  “Aye,” Bridgett said, reddening and rubbing her backside. “I did leave out that bit. That great handsome lunk. I didna think he cared near so much as that.”

  “It does sound as if he would like to marry you, though,” Katy said.

  “Aye, but he didna ask me or hear me say aye tae him, did he?” Bridgett said. “I ha’ me doots the man will ha’ courage enough tae ask me, as angry as he kens I be the noo and as shy as that man be when he’s got his wits about him.”

  “We’ll see,” Katy said. After a pause, she said lightly, “Bridgett, what would Granny Rosel say about a big black dog walking between two people in a dream?”

  “Treachery,” Bridgett said. “Were ye dreaming o’ two others or yourself?”

  “I was one,” Katy said, feeling a chill.

  “Then treachery may soon cross your path is what Granny would say.”

  Katy stared at her but asked her no more questions.

  Having put out fresh clothing for them and made their beds, Bridgett left with the sops bucket, and Clydia said, “I put no faith in dream predictions. Do you think she is pleased that Lochan may want to marry her or glad that he is shy?”

  Katy smiled, remembering her own fury the day she had learned the truth about Will and her feelings afterward. “If she believes that Lochan lost his wits over a flirtation with MacNab, I think she wants Lochan as much as he wants her.”

  They went down to the hall then, broke their fast, and spent the morning supervising last-minute preparations for their guests. Fin would be going to meet Malcolm’s party and would want everything in readiness when they returned.

  Certain that Will would expect to find her at the Stone that afternoon, since he had not found her there the day before, Katy offered shortly after their midday meal to take extra supplies to the cottars for those who would need them, and Cat agreed, warning her to ask the baker if he had enough for everyone and to spare.

  “We both know that he will,” Katy said. Then, with a grin when Cat raised her eyebrows, she added, “And that he does like to be asked.”

  Catriona had not mentioned the dogs, nor did the men on the gate or any of the people she visited, so Katy decided that with peace in the offing, she need not fret about leaving them behind. That odd, niggling sense of warning stirred gently, but it merely made her glad that her father had already left to meet Malcolm.

  Will had set a fast pace that morning, as much to deter Dae from talking about the forthcoming banquet and his dilemma as to think about his own. He knew what the right thing was to do. Right was to stop de Raite, to keep him from committing the cold-blooded murder of perhaps two score men. The easiest way— He scowled then, recalling Aly’s accusation again.

  Nevertheless, the easiest way, if the intended victims would believe him, was to march himself to the gates of Finlagh and warn them of de Raite’s intent. Surely, if warned, Malcolm would forgo the banquet. That was the ideal solution.

  However, Granduncle Thomas and a few priests had taught him in childhood that an oath sworn before God was sacred, that breaking such a vow meant eternal damnation. So, he could not tell any other person of de Raite’s plan, making that route harder than it had seemed when his idea had thrust itself forward. If he broke such a vow, he could never tell Thomas, which meant not seeing him again, because Thomas could always tell when Will was keeping something from him.

  So, what was the next possibility, and how could he see Katy alone that afternoon as she would expect?

  The two thoughts collided, flinging an image into his head of the yo
ung rascal, Rory, concealing himself behind the Stone, not once but twice. Then Katy had done the same thing the day she had heard him approaching so clumsily, and had explained that she’d wanted to be sure it was he before emerging to meet him.

  If she were to hear a stranger’s voice …

  Granny Rosel urged Katy to stay longer, demanding to hear the details of a rumored quarrel between her granddaughter and the captain of Finlagh’s guard.

  “I knew that word of that disagreement would spread quickly,” Katy said. “But you must ask Bridgett for the truth of it, Granny. ’Tis not my tale to tell.”

  “How now?” the old lady snapped. “Ye like spreading news as much as the next body does, do ye no?”

  “Not about family,” Katy said staunchly. “And Bridgett is as much family as you and our Ailvie are, Granny. Forbye, Bridgett will likely want to tell you about it, but we have all been busy preparing for the Mackintosh, Uncle Ivor, and their men, who will arrive today and tomorrow. I will tell you that my da, Gilli Roy Mackintosh, and the two lads who traveled to Finlagh with Gilli left soon after our midday meal to meet Malcolm on the road and return with him.”

  “I ken all about yon grand reconciliation banquet,” Granny said. “I dinna put much faith in it, m’self. That de Raite be a right villain whose word I dinna trust.”

  “Likely, Da does not trust him, either,” Katy said. “But the Comyns lost many men, when they attacked Moigh, so de Raite may need reconciliation.”

  “Aye, ’tis true, they did; so he might,” Granny agreed.

  Taking her leave then, and with the last loaf and parcel delivered, Katy walked eastward until she was beyond sight of Granny’s cottage, then turned north to make her way to the Stone as quietly as possible through the denser shrubbery.

  Earlier such visits, plus her fine sense of direction, soon brought enough of the upper part of the monolith into sight to make her go faster for several steps before stopping abruptly to take greater heed of the forest around her.