Page 36 of Keeping Kate
She wished she could believe him. Instinct told her here was a man of honor among the many military she had met. And when she had first seen him at St. James’s Palace, he had looked—and seemed—a magnificent Highland warrior. That day she had fallen a little in love with him, she thought. Yet she could not be sure of him now.
“A true Highlander would be Jacobite.”
“That broad brush only blurs the complex pattern of loyalty and necessity in Scotland. Regardless, the Black Watch is not a Jacobite faction, but an extension of goodwill and cooperation between Scots and the Crown. We police our own kind, which is what I am attempting to do just now, with one wee Highland lass,” he drawled.
“Many believe we should not cooperate with the English at all, but claim our king and our freedom. I will make no promises to a man I cannot trust.”
“You can trust me. You just do not know it. Give me your word you will cooperate with me on this journey, or it is chains and locks for you.” He shifted the satchel, iron bits chinking inside.
“That is not amusing.”
“It is not meant to be, Katie-what-you-will. I will have your word now.” His voice deepened from teasing to somber.
“You have it until we end our journey, so long as I am treated with consideration. And because I am hungry and tired.”
“I have no doubt.” He walked beside her, a hand at her elbow, lighter now, guiding her through the darkness rather than keeping her captive. The air was moist and cool, and beneath their feet, bracken crushed underfoot. “Let us call a truce.”
“For now,” she agreed.
