Page 5 of Scot of Deception
One wrong word and she could find out the truth.
“Well, a lass like yerself can only be noble born,” Blaine said, without missing a beat. He didn’t enjoy speaking much, but when he did, he thankfully tended to say the right thing. “Look at ye… just yer cloak must cost as much as me horse. Moy Hall is the only stronghold around here, so I suppose that’s where ye came from.”
His heart beating wildly, Blaine turned to look at Kathleen to find her cursing quietly as her gaze slid up to the sky with a frustrated sigh.
“It’s nay wonder the Campbell soldiers recognized me, then,” she said, as if speaking to herself. “I thought I would be safe, especially so close tae the castle, but…”
Blaine had to swallow a sigh of relief. He had said the right thing, after all.
“Ye shouldnae have come out here without guards,” Blaine pointed out, this time giving her the warning he hadn’t managed to give her before. It didn’t matter, of course; it was far too late for that. “How did yer family let ye travel on yer own?”
Now Kathleen’s blush was clearly visible, her cheeks heating wildly. “They dinnae doesnae ken,” she said. “But I must go tae this weddin’. It’s very important tae me… tae me friend.”
“How important can a weddin’ be?” Blaine asked. “More important than yer safety?”
“Very important,” said Kathleen. “It is almost a matter o’ life an’ death.”
Blaine was quite certain that was far from the truth, but he didn’t tell Kathleen so. Whether she went to the wedding or not was of no importance to him. If anything, it would be better if she didn’t, but he didn’t try to convince her to head back to Moy Hall. He only shook his head and refilled his water canteen in the lake as he heard Kathleen’s light footsteps behind him.
“I wouldnae mind travelin’ with ye if ye’re headin’ the same way as me,” she said, sounding a little hesitant. “It’s better tae travel with company, is that nae so?”
Blaine smiled to himself before finally schooling his expression into a neutral one and turning to face her. “So it is,” he agreed. “I’m goin’ the same way. I dinnae mind makin’ sure ye’re safe.”
Once again, that seemed to be the right thing to say, as Kathleen gave him a small, shy smile. Blaine returned it, jumping on his horse and waiting for her to do the same, then heading back up the path to the main road with her close behind.
He deeply hoped she didn’t notice that he had not asked her the direction she was going, nor had she told him.
Her savior was a strange man.
A strange, handsome man.
Kathleen stared at him openly as the two of them trotted up the path, since he couldn’t see her anyway. She could only gaze at the back of his head, his shiny dark hair, his broad shoulders and tapered waist. His arms seemed strong enough to lift her right off her feet as though she were a feather. She felt her heart racing in her chest. His green eyes, the sharp line of his jaw and the strong, slightly crooked nose—even the faint scars on his face and hands whose origin Kathleen couldn’t help but question—all worked together to give him a striking look.
And yet, the most striking thing about him was not his appearance, perhaps, but rather his behavior.
The moment they were back on the main path, Kathleen caught up to him, falling into step right next to his horse.
“How dae ye ken where we’re goin’?” she asked. “I didnae tell ye where the weddin’ is.”
For a moment, Kathleen could have sworn that she saw a flash of panic in his gaze, in the clench of his jaw. But then, he turned to her with a smile and a shrug, both so disarming that she forgot all about it.
“I saw ye head down the path afore ye were attacked. I wasnae too far from ye,” he said. “An’… I’m guessin’ we’re goin’ tae the same weddin’.”
Kathleen frowned at that, tilting her head to the side in confusion as she looked at him. “The same weddin’?”
“Aye,” he said. “I can only imagine ye’re a Mackintosh, since ye’re in these parts an’ dressed the way ye are.”
Kathleen was uncertain of whether or not she should take offence. Looking down at herself, Kathleen decided that it was a fair assessment—no commoner would be dressed in the luxurious fabrics and rich colors she was wearing.
“I’m goin’ tae Fenella Stewart’s weddin’. Is that where ye’re goin’?”
Kathleen’s eyes narrowed at him in suspicion. It all seemed a little too convenient for her, being saved by a man who was going to the exact same place as her—the wedding of a noble woman, no less! Who was this man? Kathleen observed him closely, taking in every detail about him; his clothes, the way he carried himself, his countenance. Had she ever met him before?
“Aye, that’s the one. From which clan did ye say ye come?” she asked, hoping his response would shed some light on the mystery.
“I’m a Farquharson,” Blaine said without hesitation. “Out o’ all the Farquharsons, they decided tae send me tae the weddin’, so… here I am.”
As he spoke, Blaine turned to smile at her and Kathleen found herself smiling back.
