Page 21 of Scot of Deception
Dusting the rest of the table with the edge of her cloak, which was already coated in mud and dirt, she placed everything she had purchased on the—more or less—clean surface. It was hardly a feast; some dried meat, a few apples and some nuts, cheese, and bannocks that had been fresh that afternoon but now seemed a little stale to her. There was no point in getting anything that needed to be cooked, though; neither she nor Blaine traveled with any utensils save for a knife.
“What’s all that?” Blaine asked, and when Kathleen turned to look at him in confusion, he was staring at the table with wide eyes. “Are ye tryin’ tae feed an army?”
Kathleen dragged her gaze back to the table. Now that she was looking at everything she had purchased, it seemed enough for several people, but none of it was proper food, nor could it be used to make a hot meal.
“Is it too much?” she asked, doubtful.
“What dae ye think?” Blaine asked, but he sounded amused rather than annoyed. With a chuckle, he stood and dusted off his knees before he walked over to the table, grabbing a piece of dried meat. “Well, we’ll have enough fer the rest o’ our travels, at least.”
Kathleen flushed red, her cheeks heating uncomfortably. She couldn’t help it; she felt foolish, a naive girl who had never left the comforts of the castle and didn’t know what Blaine knew of the real world.
Instead of admitting her embarrassment, though, she decided that the best course of action was to pretend it was Blaine who was in the wrong.
“Big as ye are, I thought ye’d want tae eat more,” she said defiantly, her chin jutting out as she stared him down.
Laying a hand over his chest, Blaine gasped, the gesture so unlike him that Kathleen couldn’t help but laugh at him.
“Are ye sayin’ I eat too much?”
“I’m only sayin’ ye’re big!” Kathleen said, gesturing wildly at his body. “Broad-shouldered an’… an’ tall an’—”
She stopped herself before she could say something she would regret—namely, how handsome she thought he was. Still, Blaine shook his head, his hands coming to rest on his hips.
“Why are ye laughin’ at me?”
“I’m nae laughin’ at ye,” Kathleen assured him, though she couldn’t even believe her own words. “It’s just, ye’re always so serious an’ now ye’re actin’ like this!”
As if summoning it by pointing it out, a serious expression settled over Blaine’s features. Kathleen cursed herself quietly. Just when Blaine had given a sign, however small, that he was about to open up a little to her, she had inadvertently pushed him to shut her out again.
“Bein’ serious will save ye from a lot o’ trouble out here, lass,” Blaine said before he bit into the piece of dried meat, tearing a chunk off it with his teeth. “I hope ye never have tae find out just how much trouble.”
Kathleen said nothing. What was there to say to this, other than that she hoped the same? Instead, she took a small piece of cheese and nibbled on it distractedly, forcing it down even as her stomach tied itself into a knot.
For a while, she watched Blaine in silence as he ate, hovering over the table. Every time he reached for another thing to eat, though, he moved with some stiffness and his lips twisted into a wince as though he were in pain.
Kathleen hadn’t noticed before. Blaine seemed to be an expert at hiding his pain and it was only showing now that she was observing him carefully, watching his every move. It concerned her. How long had he been in pain? How long had they been traveling, putting strain on his body instead of allowing him to rest?
“What’s wrong?” she asked, and Blaine glanced at her with a confused frown.
“Naethin’,” he said. “Why?”
By then, there was hardly any light coming in through the windows and the gaps all around the door. The sun was rapidly setting, plunging the room in a darkness that was only broken by the light of the fire. The flames illuminated only one side of Blaine’s face; the other was in shadow. Had Kathleen not known him as well, had they still been at the very start of their acquaintance, she would have found him frightening like this, with the shadows dancing across his face and sharpening his features.
“I can see ye’re strugglin’,” Kathleen said. “Were ye injured?”
Blaine hesitated. “It’s naethin’.”
“It’s somethin’,” Kathleen insisted. “When did ye hurt yerself?”
“Dae ye ever let anythin’ go?” Blaine asked instead of answering her question.
“Nay,” she said with a smug smile, one she aimed to make her look as irritating as possible. “So ye may as well tell me.”
Taking in a deep, long-suffering breath, Blaine said, “I dinnae ken. It must have been when I fought the Campbell men.”
“An’ ye’ve said naethin’ all this time?” Kathleen asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Ye could have seen a healer at the village. I’m sure between us, we have plenty o’ gold tae spare!”
“I said it’s naethin’,” Blaine insisted. “It’s healin’ fine on itsown.”
