Page 13 of Kilty By Association
“Ye’re going to have to go out there sooner or later.”
Elspeth started, jerking upright and wrenching a whimper from the bairn on her shoulder. “What did ye say?”
Her maid, Brigit, was an impish, curvy redhead, who seemed to always be wearing a secret smile at something only she knew. Now, her nimble fingers were re-braiding Katharine’s hair yet again, ignoring the lassie’s instructions, and sending a smirk to Elspeth.
“Merely pointing out,milady, that it has been days since we left Scone. These wee ones will of course ride in here with me, but ye’ve allowed Robbie the freedom to ride his horse.”
Unbidden, Elspeth’s gaze sought out her son again. His dark head was bent, his shoulders slumped. The lad was riding beside Craig, and although they’d spoken at the beginning of the journey, now Robbie was silent. The huge Hunter seemed alert enough, but ‘twas hard to tell from this distance. A heavy sword lay slung across his back and a steel helmet hung from a slim leather strap on his saddle, two stark reminders of what Craig was and the power he wielded as the king’s emissary.
The King’s Hunters normally wore their imposing helms when going about the King’s business. ‘Twas said that it made their jobs easier if they were faceless symbols of Royal power. She supposed he hadn’t bothered donning it on this mission because she’d already seen his face, kissed his lips.
‘Twas impossible to forget that she’d crawled into the lap of a man capable of such cold calculation, such violence.
With a faint shudder, she sought reassurance of the man she admired and trusted. She tilted her head, noticing he’d trimmed his beard and his hair, but couldn’t tell much else.
“Robbie looks tired,” she whispered.
“Aye, travel can be difficult on all parties, for various reasons.” When Elspeth glanced at her, Brigit shrugged. “Ye’re going mad, confined in the carriage when ye want to be riding.”
“I want to ride!” declared wee Katharine.
“Hush, love,” Elspeth scolded. “Yer pony is waiting for ye at Dungotit.” It was one of the many bribes she’d had to offer her headstrong daughter in the last sennight. “Only a few more days”—A lie—“and ye can ride him.”
“I want agirlpony!” she declared fiercely, bouncing up and down on Brigit’s lap. “A girl pony with ribbons in her hair and I also want a battleax and I want a fruit tart!”
“Ribbons in her hair is a definite possibility, love,”—Even if it’s a boy pony—“and I’m certain the cook will make a magnificent feast for us.” Although it had been almost two years since she was the mistress of Dungotit,surelythe servants remembered her and her family?
“My battleax is going to be blue!”
Damnation. Elspeth had hoped, by ignoring that particular demand, Katharine would forget it. She should have known better.
“I think the battleax will have to wait, lassie. A nice doll, mayhap?”
Brigit snorted at the same time Katharine yanked herselfout of the maid-slash-nurse’s hold. “I want abattleax! Robbie got a sword.”
Elspeth knew better than to use theThat’s because he’s a ladargument. Instead, she just said, “Aye, when he was seven. Mayhap when ye are seven.”
The little girl pushed herself off Brigit’s lap, her wee boots hitting the floor. “I want abattleax!” she screeched, loud enough to wake the bairn in Elspeth’s arms.
As Mary began to fuss, Elspeth stifled her sigh. Mary wasn’t a newborn—she’d marked her one-year celebration the month before—but rarely took naps anyplace besides her mother’s arms. Even Brigit couldn’t get the fussy bairn to sleep.
And now Katharine had woken her sister.
“Nae battleax,” she snapped, too harshly, judging from the way Mary whimpered, chewing on her fist. “Ye must learn restraint first, young lady,thenye can be taught other things.”
“Like battleaxing?” the five-year-old asked suspiciously. “The wholepointof battleaxing is ye dinnae need restraint.”
Chuckling, Brigit turned the lassie back toward herself. “Ye’re thinking ofberserking.And aye, yer mother is right. Ye need to learn restraint, so ye can learnbalance, before ye learn how to hold a weapon. Any warrior kens this.”
Katharine didn’t look convinced. “How do ye ken?”
“Och, I’m a veritable treasure trove of knowledge. Ye’d be surprised. Do ye want to learn how to disembowel yer enemy?”
Katharine lit up at the same moment wee Mary burst into fussy tears, and Elspeth thought she might pull her hair out.
See? Exhausting. She likely needed a nap as badly as Robbie did.
Brigit seemed to understand. “For now, let us give yer mam a break, eh? I’ll tell ye all about finding yer way through a man’s ribcage while we feed yer little sister her mash.” Her eyes twinkled as she met Elspeth’s. “While yer mam makes her escape.”
