Page 20 of Kilty Plea
He’d hurt her.
‘Tis for the best. Tomorrow morn ye’ll say yer goodbyes to her, and ‘tis best she believes there’s naught between ye two.
Aye. Aye, for the best.
The afternoon light was waning—they were only a few days away from the longest night of the year—when he finally saw the smoke from the village he remembered. The track they’d been following had turned into a road a few miles back, and Payton knew they were approaching a part of the Highlands which wasn’t quite as remote as the area around the Abbey.
Flora had perked up with interest as they approached the village. He was used to the stares and whispers the helmet evoked, but ‘twas clear she wasn’t.
Still, she lifted her chin and stared right back at the villagers who pointed and murmured, and beneath the obscuring helm, Payton had to smile.
For a quiet man, he was certainly gaining plenty of attention.
At the village inn—and tavern, and whorehouse, judging from the commotion—he left the horse in the stables with a well-paid lad who agreed to care for the animal as if ‘twas his own mother, and he led Flora inside.
‘Twas a joy, a genuine joy, to watch her excitement as she tried to take in all the room had to offer. The men drinking, the harried barmaids, the smells and sounds and sights… To Payton, used to the colors and refinement of the royal court, the general, overarching theme of this inn was…brown. But it reminded him of the tavern in the village near MacIntyre Keep, where Daniel had taken him for his first whore, before he’d sworn his sword to the King, and his brother had taken vows.
And so, he smiled again.
For the second time today! It must be a record.
“Dinner,” he growled, remembering his duty as he stepped up to the rotund man behind the counter. “And two rooms.”
The inn keeper swiped up his coin with a nod and knocked his knuckles against a keg. “Dinner, aye, and ale on the house, Sir Hunter. But we’ve only the one room.”
Payton nodded brusquely. “’Twill do.”
Flora’s touch on his arm had him turning. “We can share,” she offered, almost shyly.
His instinct was to tell her—as he had last night—that she should take the comfort of the bed while he kept watch. But staring down at her, he noticed her blush, and realization struck.
She’d said that last night had been the best night’s sleep she’d had. They’d been lying on the hard ground, with the December air harsh around them…and she’d slept well. In his arms.
So, he nodded again, not able to speak because there appeared to be something wrong with his throat. Something stuck in it, damned inconvenient…
“A bath, Sir Hunter?” The little round man offered. “Another coin will buy ye use of the tub, and all the hot water my girls can fetch up the stairs.”
Payton swallowed and cocked his head toward Flora. “Well, lass? Would ye like a bath?”
And damn him if she didn’tlight the fook up.
Seriously.
Her eyes, which he’d thought lovely before, became downright incandescent as she gasped and smiled.
‘Twas that same smile he’d fallen half in love with the first night, when she’d knelt at his feet during the celebration. When she’d learned he was going to MacIntyre land.
The smile which reached down into his chest andsqueezed.
The smile which made him want to do everything he could for the rest of his life, just to continue seeing that joy on her face.
“Really, Payton?” she gasped again. “A bath forme?”
She made him feel like a thrice-damnedhero.
So, of course he was in a rotten mood when he turned back to the innkeeper and growled, “Take the lass up to the room and pour her a hot bath. Extra soap. Aught else she wants.” He slid another pair of coins across the counter. “I’ll be back in time for dinner.”
As he made his escape, he could feel her eyes on him.
