Page 15 of Scot of Deception
“Will ye get out o’ bed?”
“I will,” Kathleen said. “Once ye leave the room.”
“What?” Blaine asked, the word coming out of his lips as a disbelieving exhale. “Kathleen, I must get ready, too.”
“Ye can dae that later!” she pointed out. “I must get dressed! Dae ye expect me tae dae it in front o’ ye?”
“Ye’re already half-dressed!” Blaine pointed out, gesturing wildly at the parts of her garments he could see over the bedcovers. “It will take less time if we prepare at the same time!”
“Out!” Kathleen insisted, pointing a finger at the door. She was red-faced, her lips pressed into a thin, firm line, and though once again Blaine would have loved to argue with her,he decided to take the path of least resistance and leave the room, slamming the door behind him.
How was he supposed to take this girl all the way to Castle Stalker when she was so stubborn and would hardly ever listen to him?
He stood in front of the door, taking in a few deep breaths and reminding himself of every other successful mission he had ever had. This wasn’t any different. Just as he had completed everything else, he would complete this one, too.
And he would get well-paid for it, he kept reminding himself. He imagined the gold in his hand, the coins heavy and rattling, and that brought him some sense of peace, at last.
Heading down the stairs, Blaine asked the innkeeper for a piece of paper and some ink, before he sat down at the far end of the room in the corner, from where he could observe the rest of the establishment. It was still early and only the travelers who were going far had come down from their rooms, so most of the tables were empty and he was glad to have that peace and quiet, even if he knew it wouldn’t last long.
He would at least have time to write a letter to Bran Mackintosh—Kathleen’s father.
For he had been the one to task Blaine with keeping his daughter safe. Devon and Kieran had gone to him immediately, confessing that Kathleen had just snuck out of the castle, because they were worried about her safety and had not been able to dissuade her from leaving. He had hired Blaine on the spot, who happened to be at the castle after bringing important news about the possible war from the Farquharsons. He wanted him to befriend her and watch over her as she traveled to Castle Stalker, making sure that nothing bad happened to her. His prowess with a sword was well known, so he had offered him a good amount of gold to go after her immediately. Not only did the castle have no men to spare at such a critical moment, but sending a whole group of guards after her would just slow things down even more.
If she insisted on continuing, that is, after being attacked by a small contingent of men he would send with Blaine, that would then immediately return to the castle. Bran had hoped his daughter would give up once she saw how dangerous it could be outside the castle walls, but the attack had not left Kathleen as shaken as either he or Blaine would have thought.
For all her faults, she was a resilient girl—a little too resilient. Stubborn, perhaps.
Thus, even if that attack had been staged by her father, Blaine knew the threat of the previous night was real. It wasn’t something Bran had staged; it was either a drunkard looking for his room or a real enemy, someone who had come after Kathleen without Blaine noticing.
It was entirely possible he had missed a threat. In the chaos of the previous day, something might have slipped his attention, leaving Kathleen vulnerable.
But he wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Once he was finished writing his letter to Bran, detailing everything that had happened and assuring him that Kathleen was safe and well-cared for, he gave it to the innkeeper with clear instructions. Then, he handed him some more coin and asked for some food to be packed for him and Kathleen, knowing that they had a long day ahead of them.
If they were going to keep pushing forward, then he wanted them to get to Castle Stalker as fast as humanly possible. The Stewarts were good allies of the Mackintosh Clan and even if a wedding was a large event that could leave their clan and their castle vulnerable, Kathleen would be much safer behind the castle’s curtain walls than she would ever be out in the woods or in an inn such as this. The less time they spent in public, near other people, the better it would be.
By the time he had paid the innkeeper and made sure the letter would reach the right hands, Kathleen was making her way down from their room. Though her dress was askew after she had to put it on herself without any assistance and her hair was wild and uncombed, Blaine found it difficult to pull his gaze away from her. He only managed to do so out ofsheer necessity, out of the fear that she would notice and demand an explanation for his staring.
Yet another time, he reminded himself that not only was she eleven years younger than him, but that she was also the daughter of an important man, noble-born and meant for different things. He was a nobody. He hadn’t lied to her about being a Farquharson, but he hadn’t been entirely honest with her, either. The name he bore didn’t make him noble-born. He was nothing but a lowly soldier, someone who had risen through the ranks himself through sheer skill and determination, and yet would never get much further.
“I’m ready,” Kathleen announced as she plopped herself down on the seat across from him. “An’ I hardly took any time at all.”
“Ye were up there fer thirty minutes,” Blaine pointed out.
“Lies,” Kathleen said with a mock gasp, as though the mere notion that she had taken that long offended her. “It couldnae have been more than ten minutes.”
Despite himself, Blaine couldn’t help but laugh.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Without her maids to help, Kathleen had taken one look at herself in the looking-glass that stood on top of the washbasin in the room and realized she looked like a mess. There wasn’t much she could do about it; she had never been like those girls who knew how to fix their clothes and hair, how to be proper and presentable without significant help. All her efforts had gone into growing skills like horse riding and beating her cousins in races—drinking or otherwise. Sometimes, she envied those girls who seemed so composed, so well put-together, but she had traded one skill for another.
In the end, she didn’t give it too much thought. She simply followed Blaine outside and watched him as he walked over to the stables to get their horses.
There was a young man there, the stable hand, who seemed closer to her age than Blaine’s. Even though she was too farfrom them to hear their conversation, Kathleen she could tell there was something strange about it.
Blaine stood there, one hand on the hilt of his sword as the other man stood straight-backed and focused, almost as if on attention. Then there was the way Blaine spoke to him. To Kathleen, it looked like he was a general—like one of her uncle’s men instructing a soldier. And to top it all off, there was a familiarity in the way they spoke to each other, as if they had met before; multiple times, in fact.
