Page 71 of Keeping Kate
“I have, and you should be glad of it and not grumbling about it. I am here, and I am safe, and you could thank me for risking my life for you and the cause.”
“True,” Allan said sheepishly. “We are grateful. Now tell us what you know.”
“First, let the Fraser stay here.”
“I suspect this lass has her own reasons for asking,” Neill murmured.
“Ah. If that is so, Kate, you could endanger this clan further should you make the wrong choice,” Allan said. “Remember the fairy legend.”
“I will make the right choice.” Kate met his gaze evenly.
Later,when moonlight filtered through the windows and the castle seemed to slumber, Kate sat on the edge of Alec’s mattress and dipped a cloth into the basin on the table next to the bed. The fire in the hearth crackled, its smoke fragrant, making the room warm and cozy. Enclosed by curtains drawn half shut, the bed was a quiet space. She stroked the damp cloth over Alec’s beard-roughened cheek, over the stubborn, lean contour of his jaw, along his throat, where his pulse thumped steadily.
Though his fever had broken the day before, Neill’s wife Mary had given him a potion to help him sleep and speed healing. Kate was relieved that the crisis of the illness and injury had passed, but now felt a new anxiousness. He must leave soon, according to her kinsmen, though she thought it unfair.
She slid the damp cloth over his bare shoulders, the upper part of his bare chest above the covers. He shifted, breathing deeply, muscles taut, power banked beneath smooth skin. Her heartbeat quickened as she cooled his skin, and he moved his head, eyelids fluttering as if about to awake.
No doubt, she thought, her brother, chief of their clan, would agree with his cousins once he returned. As soon as Alec could travel, he would be escorted out of the glen—and Kate would remain at Duncrieff in the protection of her clan.
Tonight might be her last chance to be alone with Alec.
She eased the cloth over his chest, shoulder, arm, avoiding his bandaged left forearm. Sweeping, tracing, she smoothed the warm, damp cloth over him. As she shifted, the yearning to be near him grew within her, heated and sure. He was a bonny and beautiful man, she thought, chiseled strength and rounded comfort, flawless in the sheen of the firelight. He stirred her like no one ever had or ever would.
Yet even if her kinsmen did not send him away, she would have done so herself. Captain Fraser could not remain in a Highland stronghold for long without raising suspicion among his military peers. Nor could she go with him to Edinburgh. That was an obligation she could not help him fulfill.
But despite the tugs and tussles, the conflicts and uncertainties that surrounded the two of them, she knew now that she loved him.
Leaning down, she embraced him gently, touching her cheek to his, her hand resting on the muscled terrain of his chest.
“Kate,” he whispered, “best stop now, or there will be consequences.”
“Oh!” She sat upright. “I thought you were asleep.”
“How could I be, with so lovely a creature beside me?”
“You!” She slapped him gently with the damp cloth. Chuckling, he caught her wrist in his free hand. “Why did you let me go on bathing you all this time?”
“That needs no answer.” He drew her closer, settling his right, uninjured arm around her. She leaned against his chest, and he shifted, reclining against a bank of pillows. “I was up and about for a bit with Mary’s help, but you were not here then.”
“I was with my kin. We thought you were sleeping and bedridden.”
“Aye, well. Mary brought me a pot of tea and a simple meal, even a little lemonade. It gave me some strength back, though I wanted something stronger.”
”Lemonade and tea are all you will get for now,” she said, gliding her hand in circles over his bare chest, feeling the heartbeat beneath, “unless you want cocoa.”
“Lord, no. After I ate, I had a bit of a wash myself, then read among the books on the shelf over there. Poetry and such. Then I slept a little until you came in just now. Since you wanted to give me another bath, I did not think it polite to refuse.”
She laughed a little as he nudged her downward to stretch out and nestle beside him on the bed. “So you are feeling better?”
“Much better.” He nuzzled her cheek, her ear. She gasped softly at that.
“Good—but oh, Alec, my cousins will want you to leave Duncrieff when you are better. They have been discussing it.”
Stroking his fingers along her arm, he stopped. “I suppose it is best. My presence here is not safe for them. Best I do not know much about them, I think.”
So he understood. She nodded. “But that means that tonight could be our last time to—to be together.”
He sighed, drew back to look at her. “So you do not plan to come with me?”
