Page 9 of Scot of Deception
There! Now he daesnae ken I care.
Blaine responded with nothing but a soft, surprised chuckle. He stared at Kathleen in silence for a few moments, as if he was considering her words, and then he gave her a small nod. “Alright. I’ll sleep in the room, then.”
Ach! O’ course, what other choice daes he have? It’s either the room or the stables!
Kathleen had pushed herself into a corner, but she could do nothing other than reluctantly accept it. “Alright,” she echoed. “But ye’ll sleep on the floor. I might have nae choice but tae share the room with ye, but I willnae share me bed!”
With that, she turned on her heel and stomped up the stairs, the bright sound of Blaine’s laughter following her.
CHAPTER FIVE
This is already more trouble than I was paid fer.
Blaine watched Kathleen as she ascended the stairs, only to realize he was holding the key to their room just as she reached the door. Amused, he did nothing to help her as she stared at the door in frustration, and then he decided to take his sweet time.
It’s the small victories.
Sauntering over to the innkeeper, he asked for some food to be brought up to the room, slipping the man another coin so he wouldn’t complain or tell him to eat it there, like everyone else. The innkeeper simply nodded, swiftly pocketing the coin, and only then did Blaine make his way up the stairs, joining Kathleen by the door.
“Is there a problem?” he asked, only to receive a scathing glare in response.
Smirking, Blaine unlocked the door and pushed it open. Kathleen walked right past him, throwing herself on the bed with a sigh, her entire body bouncing on the mattress once before settling over the covers.
The room was sparsely furnished, with nothing but the essentials—the bed, pushed up against the wall, a washbasin, a small, round table just under the window, and a chair right behind it. Blaine was not exactly expecting a luxurious experience, but he had hoped for a little more.
Dropping their bags to the floor, he grabbed the chair and pulled it closer to the side of the bed where Kathleen was lying. He didn’t stay there for long, though, when the first draft came in through the window and the chill seeped straight through his clothes.
Pushing himself up to his feet once more, Blaine knelt on the small, threadbare rug that lay in front of the hearth. Once, it may have been impressive, but now the once bright red had faded to a pink and the edges barely held themselves together. All around its rough surface, small burns and holes marred it, undoubtedly from guests who were less than careful when lighting a fire.
Behind him, he could feel Kathleen watching him as he got to work, stacking the pieces of wood and lighting them on fire. She had done the same at the clearing; Blaine had seen her watch him carefully, as if the commonplace act of lighting a fire was fascinating to her.
She was a strange girl—beautiful, strikingly so, but also strange. Blaine didn’t know any other noble girl who would ever decide to leave the safety of her home all alone just to get to her friends’ wedding, and yet Kathleen hadn’t changed her mind even when confronted with the dangers of traveling as a lone woman.
Actually, Blaine didn’t know any other noble girls at all, but he imagined none of them were like Kathleen.
At the knock on the door, he stood and dusted himself before opening it to accept the meal. That, too, was meagre—some stew, some bannocks, two mugs of ale. Still, it was better than anything they would have had on the road, if they had found themselves stranded between towns.
Taking the tray to Kathleen, Blaine placed it on the bed next to her, and the sight and scent of the food seemed to perk her up a little. She sat up, grabbing the mug of ale as Blaine dragged his chair closer, and draining half of it in one large gulp, much to his surprise.
“Ach, I was so thirsty,” Kathleen said as she placed down the mug and proceeded to pick up her bowl of stew with much more grace. Though she had resembled several of Blaine’s friends as she drained her ale, now her movements were gentle and ladylike, becoming a young woman of her pedigree. “We should ask fer more ale.”
Blaine only grunted his assent in response as he grabbed his own bowl and dug into the stew. Kathleen eyed him over her food, but Blaine offered nothing more.
He wasn’t there to make friends. The farther he stayed from Kathleen, the better it was for them both.
“Are ye tired?” she asked. “I wish travellin’ wasnae as tirin’ or as dangerous.”
Blaine shrugged a shoulder, mumbling around a mouthful of stew. “I’m alright. Far more used tae travelin’ than ye.”
“Have ye traveled tae many places?”
“A few.”
“Such as?”
Blaine shrugged again. “Here an’ there.”
Kathleen’s spoon dropped with a clatter against the bowl as she glared at Blaine. He didn’t know what exactly he had done to deserve that glare, but she certainly seemed displeased.
