Page 23 of Kilty Plea
As he spoke, he served some of the steaming stew into a bowl, added a spoon, and leaned across the table to pass it to her. “But my family is different.”
“Different, how?” she asked as she scooped up the dinner.
And since she seemed genuinely interested, he told her.
He told her about his friends among the Hunters—Barclay and Evander, who’d recently found love and retired, and Craig, the newcomer who was built like an ox—and some of the missions they’d been on. He spoke of his commander, Drummond Kennedy, a man who was even quieter than Payton himself, who valued order and control and refused to allow anyone close to him.
It seemed natural to sit there in the small room with the cheerful, crackling fire and speak of his past to this woman. She finished one bowl and started on another, and he tipped his helmet back far enough to partake in the thick brown bread and butter and ale. And still he talked.
He told her of his parents, who fought as fiercely as they loved, and their pride in their eldest son, who’d made Payton an uncle twice over already. He told Flora of the tower house and the adjoining holding Da had put aside for him, which his older brother Daniel was now overseeing, and he told her of his sisters.
“They sound lovely,” she finally admitted as she tucked her feet up under her on the bed and placed the empty bowl on the table. “But I can understand how ye might be overwhelmed by them if ye’re used to only the company of men—and a few of them, at that.”
“Aye, overwhelming. ‘Tis a good word for them, lass,” he admitted. “I have no’ been home in many months—since my aulder sister’s wedding last summer—and my mother believes I’m avoiding them.”
Hewasavoiding them, but he wasn’t going to admit that to the woman who’d borne him.
Flora had twisted her hands in her lap and was now staring down at them. “So…if ye havenae been home in so long, ye…dinnae ken much of what’s going on there?”
‘Twas the way she asked it—meekly, haltingly—which caught his attention and raised his suspicions. “Why does it matter?”
“If there was…a person…living, mayhap, at yer family’s holding. Anewperson…” She peeked up at him. “Ye wouldnae ken of him?”
Him?
Something verra like jealousy flared in Payton’s chest. “Who do ye seek?” he growled.
When she shrugged one shoulder, the towel hitched, and she grabbed for the knot she’d made. “If I tell ye…”
She bit down on her lower lip, and Payton couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from that spot.
“Aye?”
“Please, Payton.” She raised her eyes fully to his. “I have to ken if he’s there. Lenny. My brother. That’s why yemusttake me with ye,please.”
Herbrother?
“Yer brother is at my family’s keep?”
“I dinnae ken!” In her haste to make him understand, Flora leaned forward, her hair—still wet from the bath—cascading around her shoulders. “In the warmer months, the Abbey had a devotee join from MacIntyre land. I dinnae ken if he was a MacIntyre—the Abbot makes everyone forswear their clan names and declare loyalty tohim.”
Thebastard.
Flora took a deep breath, and he was startled to see her eyes were shining. Not from excitement, but…tears?
“I was in the kitchens, preparing one of the communal dinners, when I overheard him speaking to another about a ‘witch child’ who’d recently come to live in his auld village. He spoke of the lad having different-colored eyes, just like Lenny.”
Sniffing, she sat back on the mattress. “’Tis no’ much to go on, but…Lenny is a quiet lad of ten, with one blue eye and one brown. If there’s a chance my brother is at MacIntyre Castle, I have to go there and see for myself.”
Fook.
Shedid.
“St. Bart’s eardrums, lass,” he sighed as he scrubbed a hand across his face.
Or at least…attemptedto. The damned helmet got in the way.Again.
He couldn’t leave Flora here in this village as he’d intended. Not when there was a chance the Abbot could find her and hurt her again. He needed to have her nearby, so he could protect her if that were the case.
