Page 64 of Stealing Sophie
He cocked a brow. “This sorry lot?” He bent down to pet one of the terriers now rising up on hind legs, looking for affection. “Aye, Una, you fierce wee beastie.”
“I opened the gate just to look outside, and the dogs went through. I went after them to bring them back. I did not want them to be lost.”
“They would come right when they were ready. They must have seen me.”
“They saw a rabbit and near knocked me over to go after it.”
“And that surprised you? Did you never have dogs, lass?”
“We had dogs at Duncrieff when I was a child, but we did not have them in France or Rome. The prioress at the convent had a lap dog, though. Nasty wee thing,” she added. She looked down. The wolfhound had followed through the gate and stood by her now, nudging his gray head under her hand, leaning a shoulder against her. She patted him, grateful for that calm buttress.
“Colla the Fierce likes you.”
“He’s not so fierce. They are all very friendly, your dogs.”
“So much so, they might let red soldiers inside the gate if they thought they could play. And now the dogs have the knack of the latch. What will we do, eh, Scota? Rascally girl.” He rubbed her head.
Seeing the twinkle in his eyes, Sophie smiled. Connor looked at her, tilted his head curiously. In the sunlight, his hair was a rich dark threaded with gold. She wanted to sink her hands into that soft, gleaming thickness. Sink into his arms. She stood still, waiting.
“Flowers, is it?” he asked, still petting the dogs.
“Spring flowers, there—and there.” She pointed. “I thought to plant them in the kitchen garden.” She produced the trowel, held it up. “So they will bloom next spring.”
“Is it so?” He straightened, and the dogs scampered away, anticipating the return to the gate. “Hey, you dogs—come back! Your mistress wants a few wee flowers.” He moved toward her. “Unless, Mrs. MacPherson, you had some thought of leaving?”
“Just the flowers,” she said, and turned, bent, busied herself digging up a cluster of bluebells. Connor walked away to drop to his haunches, taking out a knife to pop out a pocket of snowdrops. He tossed them toward her. Within minutes, they had gathered between them a fair assortment of flowers with bulbs and roots.
“Thank you,” she said, holding out a fold of her cloak like a sling to hold them.
“Aye then. Come ahead. I do not want you seen out here.” He took her arm and turned with her to walk up the hill toward the gate. The dogs came, too, trotting in crazy circles as Sophie and Connor moved along.
“How is it that you have so many dogs here?” she asked. “I would think a band of outlaws would not want loud dogs about.”
“But they are part of our wee outlaw band. Truly,” he said, “I brought them here along with the furniture and plate.”
“They were your dogs at Kinnoull?”
“Still are my dogs. Where are the Murray lads?”
Did he mean both Roderick and Neill? “I have seen only Roderick today.”
“His brother was to come here too.” The press of his hand at her elbow gave her no choice but to keep pace with his stride while the dogs ran happy loops around them. As they went through the gate in a bit of a commotion, Roderick ran toward them.
“I am sorry, Kinnoull. I promised to watch the gate. But Mistress Sophie was poking about in the garden, and I thought she would be fine there. So I wanted to work on the back wall and the rubble there, which you said must be fixed after she—last time—” He stopped, glancing at Sophie.
“Garden?” Connor asked.
“I have been clearing the kitchen garden today. I think these will do nicely there.” Sophie lifted the hammock of her cloak with its load of plants and earth.
“Nothing will grow there, but you do as you like,” he said. “How goes the wall? It must be fixed, for Mistress Sophie is not the only one escaping that way. Fiona got past us where the rubble is lowest.”
She tilted her head in curiosity. “Fiona?”
“She did it again just this morning, Kinnoull. We chased her down the back slope and dragged her back home. Padraig is there now, helping to repair the break.”
“Clever lass, to get out again,” Connor said.
“Fiona?” Sophie glared at Connor. “You are holding another captive here?”
