Page 11 of Love with a Scottish Outlaw
“I hope you’re not saying that I smell,” Catriona said tiredly, her defensiveness melting away.
He bit back a smile. “I offer ye a kind gesture, not an insult. Good night, Mistress Catherine.”
As he left his chamber, he realized it was dangerously easy to sympathize with her, injured and alone amidst strangers, but still trying to defend herself. Wouldn’t he do the same?
He couldn’t relax his guard. He needed to be wary, to remember who she was.
He trusted few people, a lesson formed in childhood, beaten into him by a mother who hated her life and made certain her family suffered for it. He’d been a frightened boy whom his father should have protected, but his father had waited until it was too late.
Chapter 4
After Laird Carlyle had gone, Catherine distractedly pushed aside the things on the table to make room for the basin and towels. Maeve didn’t meet her gaze, and Catherine couldn’t help wondering if the woman thought she was lying, too.
At first Catherine had been at ease in his presence, this man who’d saved her life. She’d been foolishly admiring his hair, how she could now see that it was auburn, and thinking what a handsome man he might be if he smiled. He exuded a powerful, yet leashed strength that affected her far too much.
But his words of distrust had shaken her, reminded her that she was an outsider. She really knew nothing about him at all, except that he and this small band of people were in hiding. They could be thieves, for all she knew.
She glanced at Maeve, who was laying out towels and the nightshift. Catherine stopped her questions in her throat, knowing that trusting Maeve was probably a mistake, too. With her memory gone, trapped in a cave, Catherine shouldn’t trust anyone.
But she smiled tiredly at the servant, who was only trying to help her. “Apparently, I need to bathe.”
“Och, his lairdship doesn’t know how to be tactful.”
“So I gathered,” she said dryly. With a sigh, she stood up. “But I am curious. I take it the water pools somewhere within the caves?”
Maeve grinned. “’Tis better than that. But I think ye should wait until another time. Ye’re tired, and ’twouldn’t do to slip.”
“But—”
“And perhaps ye should wait for the men to be gone.”
“Oh.” Catherine let out a sigh. “Very well, I bow to your expertise. But please show me where it is tonight?”
She followed the maidservant out into the passage and turned away from the great hall. Maeve carried the lantern, which glimmered on rock walls that were smooth and damp. A chill wind rippled across them, and Catherine shuddered. She couldn’t imagine being in these caves in the dead of winter.
Over her shoulder, Maeve said, “There are no other little caves like the one ye sleep in. But up ahead, the burn that enters the caves from the mountains above separates into two paths. The one runs into our great hall, and we can use that for drinkin’ water.”
“How wonderfully convenient.” Catherine had begun to hear the sound of running water growing louder with every step.
Maeve smiled. “The second travels deeper into the caves and ends up . . .” She trailed off as she stepped through another uneven entry way. “. . . here.”
Catherine gasped as she followed Maeve into another cave. The lantern light glittered on a pool of water that churned from a waterfall not much taller than a man. The water seemed to burst out of the cave wall.
“This is incredible,” Catherine said with awe.
“Och, don’t be deceived—it looks beautiful, but the water is . . . brisk.”
Catherine laughed. “I’ll remember that.”
“And if ye decide to bathe, the signal for privacy is a shoe left in the passageway. Ye shouldn’t be disturbed.”
“I appreciate that, thank you. For now I’ll use the hot water basin you brought me.”
Catherine took one last look at the natural beauty of the waterfall, before Maeve and her lantern started down the passageway. Catherine paused. Inside the waterfall cave, it was completely black, an inky stillness that hid danger to the unwary.
It was a reminder of everything that had happened to her since she’d woken up.
In the morning, Catherine awoke and dressed in the dark before Maeve even arrived. She could hear male voices echo along the rock, but decided not to face them alone. She was still irritated by Laird Carlyle’s accusation that she could be lying.
