Page 50 of Scot of Deception
In the dark, Kathleen’s flushed cheeks were almost incandescent. Blaine hoped Bran would blame it on her being scolded, though, rather than an embarrassment brought on by the fact that they had almost been caught.
“Ach, silly me!” said Kathleen, giving them an awkward laugh. “I was in such a rush I didnae wait fer Mr. Farquharson tae respond.”
Blaine glanced between the two of them, noting the way Bran’s shoulders pulled back, his body rigid and his gaze calculating; and the way Kathleen withered under the scrutiny despite her best efforts. This was going to end in a disaster; there was no escaping it.
“Is there somethin’ ye’d like tae tell Mr. Farquharson?” Bran asked her, and Kathleen hesitated a moment too long.
“I… I only wished tae thank him fer the hunt today,” she mumbled, quiet and uncertain.
“The hunt?” Bran asked, turning to look at Blaine. But as he did, something seemed to catch his gaze right over Blaine’s shoulder, and he swiftly walked past him, heading to the fireplace.
There, on the mantel, lay a blue ribbon. Kathleen had left it behind after the night they had spent together, and Blaine had placed it there to be reminded to return it to her.
He had neglected to do so. How could he have ever predicted that her father would not only go to Castle Stalker, but that he would go to his room and find it? But find it he had, and now he was holding it up between two fingers, recognition settling heavy over him as he turned to face Kathleen.
She looked at her father in terror. There was no hiding from him. There was no pretending, not when her eyes were so wide and brimming with tears, her bottom lip trembling with every breath.
It could be anyone’s ribbon. Why would he assume it’s hers?
“Did ye ken,” Bran asked, and Blaine had the sense he was talking to him, even as he faced Kathleen, “that I bought this fer her when she was a wee lass?”
In the silence that followed, Blaine could hear his own heartbeat, loud as the drums of war.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Never before had Kathleen seen that look on her father’s face. She had seen him angry in the past, of course; furious even. Most of those times, the sentiment was directed at her, so she was terribly familiar with it.
However, the rage she saw at that moment was nothing like those times. It was as though her father had transformed into someone else—a stranger, someone she had never even seen before. His face was a dark shade of red, so deep that she feared something would happen to him if he didn’t calm down. His features were contorted into a mask of fury, but when he spoke, his voice was perfectly level, devoid of any emotion.
That was what scared her the most, that dissonance between his expression and his voice that sent a chill down her spine.
“What is this?” he asked.
“Faither—”
“I’m speakin’ tae Blaine,” her father said, holding up a hand to silence her. It struck her as odd—not just the fact that he was addressing Blaine at all, but also the fact that he referred to him by his first name.
Were they familiar with each other? It was likely, Kathleen supposed. Perhaps they had met before at a clan gathering.
Blaine said nothing in response, but he also didn’t cower under her father’s gaze. Anyone else would have withered by then, shrinking away from the man, but Blaine still stood tall, his shoulders squared back and his mouth set in a firm line.
“Does it mean ye have ruined her?” her father asked him, and Kathleen’s heart sank to her stomach. She wanted to say something, anything, that could get them out of that situation. She wanted to point out that she had asked for it, that Blaine was not to blame, and that she was tired of vilifying her desires. But she knew her father would listen to none of it. He had never listened to her in the past and he wouldn’t start listening to her now.
It was her mother she feared the most, though. Once shefound out, she was bound to lock her up in a turret in the keep and hold her there forever.
If the anger and disappointment dinnae kill her first.
“Tell me!” her father roared when Blaine once again remained silent. Kathleen flinched at his booming voice, but Blaine remained calm, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
“It daes,” he admitted. “I have fallen in love with Kathleen. I didnae… I shouldnae have done it. But I didnae touch her because o’ a whim. I love her.”
Kathleen’s heart skipped beat after beat. She stared at Blaine, partly in disbelief and partly in elation, her stomach twisting itself into a hundred knots, just like it did the first time she had heard him speak those words to her.
Her father was angry, it was true, and he had good reason to be. They had gone behind his back, when they could have simply waited and asked for his permission to wed. Had he known they loved each other, though, Kathleen was certain he would have allowed it. The only thing that may have given him pause was the difference in age between them, but that was something that could easily be overlooked.
But at least now the truth was out in the open, and Kathleencould ask for his blessing to marry Blaine. They could truly be together as man and wife instead of simply dreaming of it.
“In what part o’ yer mission, exactly, did I say ye could touch me daughter?”
