Page 23 of Keeping Kate
She shrugged. “Hurts mend.” She held out her hands, where a smaller set of iron fetters and a swag of lesser chain linked her wrists. How had he not noticed that before? “And these?”
“Not yet.” He dropped the key into his leather sporran this time, buckling it shut.
She huffed in annoyance. Just then, the soldier returned with a pile of things, a plaid and a narrow pair of shoes—leather brogans with silver buckles and stout soles.
Sturdy shoes in which to run away, Alec thought, warned. He took them, handed the man another coin—she was already proving expensive to escort, he thought wryly—and then handed the shoes to the girl, draping the plaid over her shoulders.
“I will have the wee necklace, too,” she said.
“Later. Put your shoes on.”
She stooped and tried, her hands clumsy with the manacles on her wrists. Alec knelt, helping her slip into each shoe as she balanced a hand on his shoulder. Then he stood and took her elbow to tug her back to the corridor and the short set of stairs that would lead outside.
“Where are we going? Did you bribe that soldier?” She yanked under his grip.
“Outside, and aye,” he said, guiding her toward stone steps.
“Taking me to Edinburgh is unfair. I have had no charges yet. No judge has interviewed me, and I have not seen a lawyer.”
“You are seeing one now.” Alec pulled her up the steps.
“You will take me to a lawyer, then?”
“I am a lawyer. Blast it, will you pull us both down the stair when we have to go up? Come along.”
“You! My case is lost for certain, then. You are prejudiced against me.”
“I am notyourlawyer—I amalawyer. Trained in Edinburgh and Leiden and currently employed as a military solicitor to review documents. You reviewed some of those very documents yourself, as I recall.”
She looked up at him, paused. He took her by the waist and lifted her up to another step. She was a lightweight. He should have just carried her out, he thought.
“A pusher of papers, a long-robe, a turncoat! I do not want you for my lawyer!”
“Be damned,” he said, urging her upward again, “I am not your lawyer, and will you be silent?”
“I will not. Look what you did to dear Mr. Cameron.”
“Dear Mr. Cameron has knocked more heads together than you or I could count. Though you seemed eager to kiss him,” Alec added, not sure why he mentioned it.
“A kiss of friendship. You will wait an eternity for the same, I promise you,” she snapped. He stopped, turned. She stepped up twice, standing on the tread above him, her face nearly level with his now.
“Will I?” He watched her in the darkness, the memory of shared kisses flooding his mind. The awareness of it seemed to fill the gap between them with palpable tension. His body pulsed. He saw her glance away, silent.
He gave her a gentle push up another step with a hand at her back. She winced.
“What is it?” Alec asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “Just—every muscle aches, I am tired, I am hungry, and I do not care to rush to my trial and execution. Though you are in a hurry to take me there.”
“You can rest and eat later. Up you go.”
Kate took the next steps, reached a landing, turned. “What sort of law do you practice, and what do you charge for your services?”
“Hire me later,” he said, a hand at her waist.
“Are you worth hiring? I cannot afford you. Most long-robes charge absurd fees. Stop that,” she said, when he urged her upward again. “I will be climbing by myself.”
“Then please do,” he said between his teeth.
