Page 37 of Keeping Kate
Chapter 11
Moonlight bathed the inn yard as Alec led Kate toward the stone building. Warm light glowed through red curtains at the windows, and hanging beside the door, a tin lantern shed light on the outside steps. From the stables behind the inn, Alec heard horses snorting and a groom calling out, though he doubted that Jack MacDonald had arrived yet. He only hoped the fellow was safe.
Glancing at Kate, noticing how her red-gold hair shone like flame, he leaned down. “Pull up your shawl, if you will. Best if you are not easily recognized here.”
She did so as he opened the door. For a moment her gaze caught his, and he glimpsed uncertainty in place of her customary rebellious frown. Cupping her shoulder, he leaned close. “No one will know you are a prisoner, so long as you behave. Agreed?”
She nodded, and the relief, even gratitude, in her eyes tugged at his heart. But he would not let himself be drawn in again by Katie Hell. He guided her inside.
The main room was dim, smoky from candles and tobacco, and filled with a cacophony of voices and music, along with the savory smells of good food—he had not realized how hungry he was. Near the hearth, an old man played a fiddle, the plaintive tones wafting outward. Scarred tables and benches were set around the room, most occupied by men and a few women.
Immediately he was glad to see no soldiers in the room. Most of the men present wore shabby coats and breeches, while others wore bulky wrapped plaids. He heard a mixture of English and Gaelic and knew there would be no telling where loyalties lay in this chattering crowd.
“Keep quiet, and keep your head down,” he murmured to Kate.
Someone called out his name, and Alec turned. A gray-haired man stood at a high board with cupboards beneath and raised a hand in greeting. Alec nodded, raised a hand as well, glad to see James MacLennan, the owner. Beside him was a dark-haired young woman pouring ale out of a small keg into jugs. Held snug against her was a small infant, secured in a plaid shawl wrapped around the mother. Seeing Alec, the young woman set down the keg and hurried toward him.
“Captain Fraser!” She smiled.
“Miss MacLennan, so nice to see you.” Alec removed his tricorne, keeping a firm hand at Kate’s elbow. His prisoner stood silently, her head tucked in the shadow of her plaid. Jean MacLennan glanced toward her curiously. “And the wee bairn? Doing well, I hope?”
“Oh aye,” she said, beaming. “Welcome back, Captain Fraser. And to you, Miss—”
“Miss Jeanie MacLennan, this is ah, Kate, ah, Fraser,” he said almost without thinking. It would have to do, he thought. Kate glanced at him sharply, then murmured a greeting.
“Miss Fraser.” Jeanie smiled, all pink cheeks, glossy black hair, sparkling dark eyes, warmth radiating from her, as always. She patted the infant, a squirming bundle, and peered toward the door. “Is Mr. MacDonald with you, sir?”
“He will join us later. We had a slight mishap with our carriage, and walked here ahead of him. He will need some time to repair the, ah, damage.” As he spoke, the baby gave a tremulous, mewling cry. “He is growing, I see.” He could not recall the name, though he had been introduced two months earlier when the child was a newborn.
He hoped Jack remembered the name, the thorough rascal, he thought.
“He is getting bigger each day and smiles now and sleeps through most nights,” she said proudly, while the child whimpered and she rubbed its back. “He will not keep you up the night this time, Captain Fraser.”
Kate looked squarely at Alec and lifted a questioning brow.
“I generally hire the room above Jean’s,” he explained.
“We can spare that room for you tonight, Captain. I will tell Father. Do have a seat, and I will bring you some ale. Would that do?”
“Very nicely, and some of your excellent stew if you have it. We would like to go upstairs first. Tired from the journey,” he added, holding Kate’s arm. Jean MacLennan nodded and hurried off to speak with her father, the innkeeper, who was tapping ale from another keg into a pitcher. The man turned to grin as Alec approached with Kate, heading for the stairs.
“Good evening, sir! Will you be hiring another room for the lady?”
Kate opened her mouth to speak, but Alec squeezed her arm for silence. “One will do—for my wife and myself,” he said impulsively. He had to explain the name and could not risk putting her in a separate room. She jerked her arm in his grip in protest.
“Wife?” MacLennan looked astonished, while Jean smiled in delight. Alec nodded, smiling rather stiffly.
“Bride,” he said. “We have just been wed.”
“Just,” Kate said, scowling.
“So it is Mistress Fraser, then! Congratulations to you both,” Jean said brightly. Her father handed her a key. “Come this way. Will you take the lantern for us, Captain?”
Alec took the glowing lantern MacLennan handed him, and he and Kate followed Jean up a flight of wooden steps to the second floor and left to the familiar corner room that Alec sometimes hired when traveling between Edinburgh and the north. Opening the narrow, creaking door, Jean stepped back, patting the baby again, who squawked and quieted.
“He is hungry,” Kate ventured, looking at the babe. “And very glad to be with his mother, I am sure.” She smiled a little, and half reached out to touch the bundle, but quickly dropped her hand away. Seeing the gentle gesture, Alec also saw the band of bruises around her wrist that she now tried to hide.
“Likely hungry by now. I try to keep him with me when I can, even while I help Papa here,” Jean said. “The room is clean. I changed the bed linens last week, and I think no one else has slept here since you and Jack MacDonald were here last. If you want clean linens, sir, it will be three shillings more, as you know, sir.”
