The girl saw Katy first, stiffened, and quickly brushed tears from her cheeks.
Will whipped around, his gaze colliding with Katy’s. Saying something sharply to the girl, he strode toward Katy as if the shrubbery were not there.
She stood still, her heart pounding and an odd thrill shooting up her spine, but she met his angry gaze, silently challenging him to dare to scold her, too.
Chapter 6
When Will caught sight of the Finlagh twin watching them, he snapped, “Go straight home, Alyssa. I will follow you anon, and we will talk again.”
“Who is she, Will?” Aly asked.
“Never mind about that,” he said. “Just go, now!”
She turned obediently away but looked back over her shoulder to say, “You willna seek him out tae hurt him, will you?”
Having fixed his gaze again on the lass watching them, he did not reply but strode swiftly toward her. He was as certain as he could be that she was Katy and not the other one, although he could not have explained how he knew. He just did, and seeing her there, watching them after he had caught Aly with the unknown redheaded scoundrel, set his anger aboil. He felt an uncharacteristic, likely even unfair but nonetheless strong urge to give Katy a good shaking.
She did not look away or step back, but when he got close, she caught her lower lip between her teeth and moved her head slightly back away from him as if she were frightened but striving mightily to conceal it.
He stopped where he was and said sternly, “What are you doing here?”
She hesitated, drew a breath, and said in much the same tone as his, “I could ask the same thing of you, sir, for we stand on Castle Finlagh land. Who is that girl and why were you scolding her?”
“If you heard me scolding, you must know why I did.”
“I heard only your tone, not the words. Who is she?”
“My younger sister,” he said. “I scolded her because I saw from above that she had come too far from home for her own safety, just as you have. Moreover,” he added hastily when he saw her lips part, doubtless to debate that last point, “if you know that upstart who just stormed past you, you may tell him for me that he is to leave my sister alone or answer to me for his insolence.”
“I expect you told him that yourself. You have not even told me her name or exactly who you are, so to demand that I tell him any such thing is … is …”
“Is what? You were unwilling to tell me much about yourself when we met,” he added, since she seemed unable to find words strong enough to suit her feelings. “You might at least have warned me that you have an identical twin.”
“I do not share such information with people I do not know,” she said.
When he raised his eyebrows, her lips twitched into a near smile. “I suppose you are as reticent as I am,” she said. “But you do know who I am now, aye?”
“I suspect that your father is Fin of the Battles,” he admitted. “Look here, Katy, I am not angry with you. If I sounded so, ’tis because … mayhap because I saved your life on the tor and feel now as if I have known you much longer than I have. Sithee, I care about your safety as much as I do about Al—about my sister’s.”
“Sometimes, I have to get away,” she said with a little sigh. “I feel safe in our woods, and although I am not supposed to climb to the top of the ridge as I did when we met, I felt safe there, too, because the dogs were nearby.”
“They could not help you when you needed it, though.”
“I know. I am glad you were there when I slipped, Will.”
He felt warmth spread through him at her words. Without considering his own words, he said impulsively, “If you should need rescuing again or want to see me for some other cause, mayhap you could let me know … somehow?”
Her eyes widened. “How?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, feeling foolish, even guilty to have suggested such a thing to her. Nevertheless, now that he had, he hoped there might be a way.
“Do you come this way often?” she asked.
“I do roam through the area, but I usually keep near the ridgetop to avoid trouble with anyone who might take offense at my passage.”
A twinkle lit her beautiful eyes. “That is wise of you if you roam often there and have not made yourself known to our people,” she said.
“I tend to prefer my solitude unless someone requires rescuing,” he replied, scanning the nearby woods as he spoke. The area remained eerily quiet, as if even its customary denizens were treading cautiously.
Evidently discerning his wariness, she said, “My sister awaits me yonder, sir. She is likely worrying about me, too. If the creatures can sense her concern …”
“They worry, too, aye, and this place is well concealed,” he said when she paused. “You should go, though, if your sister worries.”
Eyeing him thoughtfully for a long silent moment, she said, “Do you know the pool, where our south stream is dammed above the castle knoll?”
“I have seen a pond there, aye.”
“If I were to drape a cloth, a kerchief, atop shrubbery there, could you … ?”
“… see it from the ridge?” he said, catching her thought.
When she nodded, he said, “I do see the pool now and now whilst I’m on the ridge, so likely I’d see a bright or white kerchief. Others may see it, too, though.”
She nodded. “But if anyone questioned me, I could suggest that a gust of wind had caught it and blown it beyond my reach, could I not?”
“Aye, you could, lassie,” he said gently. “But I hope you will not make a habit of avoiding the truth or telling me only what you think I want to hear.”
She cocked her head. “Sakes, sir, do you always tell the whole, exact truth?”
He chuckled then. “Katy, if anyone ever tells you that he never lies or even shades a truth, you may be nearly certain that he does and likely does so often. My own feeling is that I’d like always to be able to walk into a room knowing that no one in it is likely to distrust my word or accuse me of acting dishonorably.”
Brushing a hair from her cheek and with a smile that revealed intriguing dimples on each side of her mouth, she said, “Then I won’t do it with you.”
Forcing himself briefly to ignore the dimples, he said, “’Twill be better so, lassie. Friends must be able to trust each other.”
She nodded then, soberly, so he hoped he had made his point, because truth was important between friends, loved ones, and even between enemies.
Thomas had taught him that habits of truth led to trust, which was important because a trust, once broken, was nearly impossible to rebuild. Hard on that thought, though, came another, more discomfiting one, that while he had not lied to Katy, neither had he told her the whole truth about himself.
Doubtless, Aly would say he had taken the easy way instead, but the plain fact was that he had never met anyone, male or female, who intrigued him more than Katy did, and he was certain that she would want no more to do with him when she learned who his father was. Given time enough before that happened, he hoped he might prove to her that he was not at all like de Raite. Then, perhaps …
Noting that she was staring at his chest, he gently tilted her chin up, smiled, and held her gaze.
It was as if he were trying to see right into her head, but his smile was contagious, erasing any lingering tension she felt, so she grinned back at him.
“What is that tall gray stone yonder, behind you?” she asked. “It is at least a yard taller than you are and nearly as wide as you are tall. Yet, it stands so deep in these woods that I have never seen it before.”
“’Tis what one calls a standing stone,” Will said. “I have seen other such stones but never one so deep in a forest. Usually, they stand in fields or large clearings or in circles of such stones. I do not know how they stand upthrust as they do. But your sister still aw
aits you, does she not?”
“Most likely she does, so I must go.”
“I suspect that I should address each of you as ‘my lady,’” he added.
“Aye, perhaps,” she said, grinning again. “People do call me Lady Katy, because many hereabouts still call Mam ‘Lady Catriona,’ rather than Lady Finlagh. So, if you were to ask for me as Lady Catriona …” She shrugged.
“I see, so you are named for your mother.”
She nodded. “You know, if I should leave a sign—that is, if I should need rescuing or to tell you aught of import—how would I know where to meet you?”
He grimaced. “I should not be agreeing to meet you at all. I am as certain as I can be that your parents would strongly disapprove of any such plan.”
“But you suggested it!”
“I did,” he agreed with a sigh. “I meant it, too. By my troth, though, I do not know why I let myself submit to so hypocritical an impulse, especially after chasing that upstart away from my sister. I do not want to anger Fin of the Battles.”
Before he could continue and possibly decide not to be party to the plan, Katy said, “Da would understand your wish to keep me safe, sir.”
“Aye, sure, he would,” Will said with a touch of mockery.
Fearing that his next words might be to forbid leaving such a sign, she said hastily, “I do need to go. You should return the way you came, too, so that you run less risk of our men finding you here and demanding to know your purpose.”
“Wait,” he said quietly. “I do have a notion.”
Turning back, she said, “What sort of one?”
“How we might meet if you do want … that is, need my help again.”
The thought of such a tryst with him shot an unfamiliar thrill through her. “Have you thought of a place?”
“Not an exact place, but if you do leave a kerchief on shrubbery near your pool before midday, the chance is good that I might see it that same day.”
“Marry, sir, do you cross our land every day?”
“Nae, but I can see that pool from the ridge when I do chance to come this way. You may have to look for me more than once, but I will engage to meet you midafternoon the day after I see the kerchief, if you walk into the woods on your east slope—say, to the stream where I met your twin. If I must leave before you arrive, I can pile a small cairn of stones near the stream to let you know that I’ll return the next day. But, lass, think carefully about this. You are safe with me, aye, but you must know that roaming about alone as you do is more dangerous for a woman or girl than for any lad.”
She nearly declared that she knew she was safe with him but decided that such an admission would convince him she was too daring. Instead, she agreed to think about what he said, took her leave, and found Clydia where she had left her.
“I thought you might have returned to the castle with Gilli,” Katy said.
“Gil did not even pause to speak to me. He just pushed past me as if I were another shrub. I thought he must have done the same to you, so I waited. I did not expect to wait so long, though. I was about to come in search of you.”
“I’m glad you did not.”
“You were talking to him,” Clydia said flatly. “I suspected as much.”
“To Gilli?”
“You know I did not mean Gil,” Clydia retorted with a frown.
Chastened, because her twin rarely frowned or spoke so to her, Katy said, “There was a girl with Gilli Roy. Will told me that she’s his sister and he caught them together. He sent Gilli away with what Da calls a flea in his ear.”
“That explains why Gil did not want to talk,” Clydia said. “I called to him to wait for us, but he ignored me. Your Will’s fury must have upset him badly.”
Knowing that to object again to the “your Will” would be fruitless, Katy said, “His sister looked two or three years younger than we are, Clydie. Gilli should not be meeting so young a lassie in secret.”
“I agree, but I like Gil, Katy, and I think he feels as if no one does. In troth, I feel sorry for him.”
“If you want him, you are welcome to marry him,” Katy said.
“I don’t feel that sorry,” Clydia said with a reassuring chuckle.
Will’s thoughts raced between his delight at seeing Katy and his anticipation of seeing her again now that they had a plan for future meetings. However, before he reached Raitt, he knew that, despite the way he felt about the scoundrel Aly had met, he could not in good conscience scold her further for doing what he had just agreed to do himself.
“What was I thinking?” he muttered, but the question was moot. He knew that pure desire had stirred the impulse. Sir Fin’s Katy fascinated him, and he wanted to see her again. He had never known a lass of her age and standing who possessed her confidence, let alone one with a love of adventure that might match his own, albeit with evident disregard for even her powerful father’s commands. In one breath, she was nearly childlike, in the next an enticingly attractive young woman.
His mood vanished when his father met him in the screens passage as he entered. “There ye be,” de Raite said, scowling. “Where the devil ha’ ye been?”
“You ken fine where I was, sir,” Will said calmly. “You sent me out yourself this morning, after you sent Hew into Nairn.”
“Aye, but Hew were back afore midday,” de Raite said.
“If you expected me to return by then, you would have said so.”
“I didna expect any such thing, but it be nigh on tae suppertime, and I ha’ just told yer sister she’s tae go without, because she came in nobbut minutes ahead o’ ye. Did ye see aught worthy o’ tellin’ me this day?”
“I saw the same two watchers I oft see above Finlagh and another two lads betwixt Finlagh and the westerly track that crosses our ridge well south o’ here, where it passes over the hills eastward from Loch Moigh to Glen Spey.”
“That be as usual, too, then. Ye saw naught else, though … naught tae make ye think they ha’ ken o’ me plans for Nairn?”
“Nae,” Will said. “In troth, though, short of an army on the march northward from the southwest, I do not know what activity I should—”
“Ah, bah,” de Raite snapped. “Ye’d see Fin gathering men at Finlagh and more such men making their way there from Moigh or heading intae Glen Spey tae reach Rothiemurchus, where, as ye ken fine, the Malcolmtosh’s war leader abides.”
“I do ken that,” Will said. “I saw naught to suggest such movements, naught at all of Rothiemurchus men or that Sir Fin has gathered men. I will say, though—”
“That ye dinna approve o’ me plans, aye,” de Raite cut in sharply. “I dinna want tae hear it, nor will ye take part in the raid tae seize Nairn Castle. The last thing I need there be a nae-sayer wha’ dinna ken nowt. When we leave Monday morning, ye’ll tend tae your duties here, keep watch on yon ridge, and ye’ll keep your roving sister inside these walls. She tried tae tell me she missed her way back from yon clachan, ’cause she were a-thinkin’ o’ folks’ troubles there. I call that blethers, so I’ll no have her walking out and about on her own whilst I’m away. Ye’re tae see that she minds that, Will. Ye ought tae be able tae do that much.”
Will’s own unpredictable temper stirred, but he managed to tamp it down. With de Raite in the mood he was in, anything Will said would likely stir the man to fury. When that happened, only God could predict the outcome.
Katy waited until they were leaving the dais after supper to confront Gilli Roy. “We are going to talk,” she said firmly.
“Aye, sure, but not here in the hall,” he said. “Tell Clydia we be going up tae watch the sunset from the ramparts. She can tell anyone else who asks for us.”
Taking the stairway to its upper landing and the ladder there to the roof, they emerged atop the castle near the crenellated west parapet. Its higher portions were eight feet high, bu
t its shooting positions were three or four feet lower.
The parapet walkway emphasized the oval shape of the castle, and since gently rising hills that surrounded the knoll’s east, south, and west sides obscured more distant views in those directions, Katy and Gilli Roy moved to the north end, where they could look over the hornwork guarding Finlagh’s entrance at an uninterrupted prospect of Strathnairn and lower portions of the river, all the way northward to the town of Nairn, its harbor, and the Moray Firth.
Although the sun hid behind western hills, its light still glimmered on the harbor and firth, on Nairn’s kirk steeple and castle towers, and on unshadowed bits of the river Nairn as it flowed northward to its confluence with the sea.
Two Finlagh men-at-arms strolled back and forth on the long sides of the parapet, keeping watch. Waving at them, Katy received waves in return.
After scanning the area when they reached the north parapet, Gilli folded his arms to lean atop the wall at one of the shooting positions and made room for Katy beside him. “Those two lads willna trouble us, I reckon,” he murmured. “I ken fine why ye want tae talk, Kate. Ye must ha’ heard that chap a-ringing a peal over me.”
“I could hear naught of what the two of you said, but I did see the girl you met, Gilli. So, do not be offering me a wheen of blethers. Just tell me who she is.”
He gave her a long, measuring look. Then, evidently realizing that denial or argument would be futile, he said, “Her name is Aly.”
“Aly what? Where does she live?”
“I dinna ken, exactly,” he said. “Sithee, we met wholly by chance.”
“When?”
“Some two years ago,” he admitted. “Dinna be shooting questions at me like arrows, though, Katy. If ye want tae hear this, let me tell it in me own way.”
Nodding, she pressed her lips together.
“I were in one o’ me moods whilst I were a-visiting here, though I dinna ken why I were that day. I just didna want tae talk tae anyone, so I pushed off the main track into them dense woods till I came tae that old standing stone and heard her crying. Someone had been mean tae her—her da, I think she said. We talked for a time, but she didna say naught o’ kin or clansmen. We talked as if we had met as bairns intead o’ that very day. Sakes, I talk wi’ Aly easier than I talk wi’ anyone else, even our Clydia or yourself.”
The Kissing Stone Page 9