Page 33 of Kilty Plea
“Oh?” Flora glanced down at herself in surprise. “And here’s me thinking yegaveit to me. Ye found another cloak, I see?” She flicked the wool he’d wrapped around himself, eyes twinkling. “Now, tell me if ye expect me to learn how to ride a horse today. I’ve never ridden by myself, ye ken.”
“Ye havenae?” he was surprised, he had to admit. Lenny had taken to the activity like a fish to water. “Well, then, lass, ye’ll just have to ride with me.”
Her grin told him that had been her goal all along. “Oh dear. Such a shame. I call shotgun!”
“What?” he asked as he followed her to where the horses were prancing about.
“That one,” she announced, pointing. “I call it Shotgun. And I’m riding in front of ye.”
“For a change,” he muttered sarcastically, but he was grinning as he pulled her up into his lap.
Where she belonged.
When Lenny trotted out on the little pony Payton had assigned him, Flora gasped and made a show of clasping her hands to her cheeks. “Lenny, look how handsome ye are, riding a horse like a man!”
Her brother rolled his eyes, but Payton noticed he was flushed with happiness as they joined the caravan heading into the hills. He was careful to fall toward the back, and Lenny did the same, slowing their horses until the laughing, singing, and already-half-drunk crowd pulled away ahead of them.
When he could no longer hear them, Payton pulled his horse to a stop, tipped his head back, and took a deep breath. The air was so cold it burned his lungs, but he didn’t mind. “This is more like it. Finally alone.”
Flora snorted quietly. “We can leave ye be, Sir Hunter, if ye want to be alone.”
“Nay, I—” When he saw the teasing twinkle in her eyes, Payton did some eye-rolling of his own. “Ye two dinnae count. I’d rather be alonewithye, than without ye,” he declared, swinging down from the saddle, and reaching up to grasp her about her waist.
“Aye,” she murmured, and he loved the way her cheeks pinked, although she met his gaze. “I feel the same way.”
Her feet were on the ground—hard-packed snow, thanks to the merry-makers who’d gone before—but he kept his hands on her waist, trapping her between his body and the horse. For her part, Flora was still holding onto his shoulders, as if she didn’t want to let him go either.
“Flora?” Lenny’s voice caused her to startle. “Are ye married to Payton?”
Without releasing her, Payton turned, tucking her up against his side as they faced her brother. The lad’s head was tipped up, and he was glaring atPayton.
‘Twas Flora who answered. “Why do ye ask that?”
“Because everyone at the castle says ye’re married. But I’m no’ stupid. I ken what goes on between a married couple. And…ye dinnaeactmarried.”
Lenny was still glaring mulishly at Payton, so he was the one who spoke. “How do ye ken what passes between a married couple, lad?”
The boy didn’t answer, but continued to glare.
With a sigh, Payton glanced down at Flora. “Could ye please ask yer brother how he kens what passes between a married couple?”
Lips twitching, she nodded. “How do ye ken what passes between a married couple, Lenny?”
“I’ve been working—and sleeping—in the stables since last spring, Flora. Nae one notices me if I dinnae speak, and the men talk.”
Ah.
Payton shrugged. “Well, lad, ye’ve been sharing a chamber with yer sister and me since the day after we arrived here.”
Again, Lenny didn’t answer.
Payton glanced at Flora, who pressed her lips together and turned back to her brother. “Lenny, Payton’s right. Ye’ve been sleeping with us.”
“And is that why he cannae do”—the lad flapped his hands about—“Whatever ‘tis ye’d rather be doing together?”
St. Bart’s nose hairs, this was an awkward conversation.
“Let’s walk, eh?” he blurted, taking Flora’s hand in his and tugging her into motion, even as he caught the horse’s reins in his other hand. “Lenny, ye can handle that beastie?”
