Page 69 of Love with a Scottish Outlaw
Cat flushed. What had the little girl seen—and what did other people surmise?
“Finn, Duncan wants you to have a new mother and father, not a group of people living a dangerous life.”
“If havin’ a mother and father means leavin’ here, I don’t want it.” Finn’s lower lip trembled as if she fought to control herself.
Cat looked down at the water that still dripped from the girl’s garments. “We don’t need to discuss it now. It’s more important that you wash and then change your clothes before you catch your death.”
Finn blinked. “Me mum used to say that.”
Cat suddenly had another flash of memory. Her mother, who was once so focused on her British aristocracy, had apologized to Cat’s cousin Riona for saying nothing while her husband had allowed Riona to be captured. Lady Aberfoyle had wanted a new start with her children, and Cat had been grateful and willing to believe things could change. Without thinking, Cat mused aloud, “People can change.”
Finn frowned her confusion at the change of topic. “People don’t change,” she said firmly.
The girl’s lifetime of experience had made her bitter; changing that would be a long process. “Then they can change their clothing. Go do so—but wash up first.”
The little girl went to her pile of fresh garments and gave Cat an almost fearful look over her shoulder that nearly broke her heart. Cat turned her back and hugged herself, giving the girl privacy as she began to splash in the water.
As Duncan crossed the great hall toward the footbridge, he saw Maeve give him a concerned look. When he turned toward her, she waved him away and went back to her work table, shaking her head.
He didn’t know what that was about, but if she didn’t need to talk, that was fine with him. Unless Catriona had confessed what he’d done to her. She’d promised she wouldn’t, but Maeve was her closest friend here. He couldn’t blame her if she needed to talk. But he imagined she would keep her word. It meant much to her—and his meant so little.
How had he come to this?
As he entered his—and now Catriona’s—chamber, he came to a halt, frowning. The usual mess of women’s garments, shoes, and hair fasteners was gone, and the book she’d been reading was closed upon his trunk. He stormed back into the great hall, and Maeve was watching as if waiting for him. She pointed to pegs in the wall, and he recognized Catriona’s garments. Maeve shrugged as if clueless; Duncan nodded, then returned to his chamber.
So Catriona had relinquished her privacy, but didn’t seem to have told Maeve why. He should be relieved to have his own privacy once again, but he hated the thought that she might be afraid of him, afraid that he might try to seduce her. How could he blame her?
There was a commotion in the passageway, and Finn raced past. Duncan leaned out into the hallway to see the boy carrying a bundle of clothing that dripped on the cave floor. Duncan looked back toward the pool cave, saw that a light still flickered, and went to investigate. He drew up short in the entranceway, stunned to see Catriona standing next to the pool in a chemise that was wet to her waist. She froze when she saw him, and he looked his fill like a man starved for the sight of a woman. This particular woman. The chemise was made of linen rather than the silk she was probably used to, but the sodden fabric clung to her thighs and calves. Without the bulk of gown and petticoats, she looked small and delicate, so beautiful and forbidden to him that he ached. He thought of all he could uncover and touch and kiss. She didn’t hide herself in embarrassment, but stared at him, her face pale and disdainful. The air between them seemed heavily charged, as if a thunderstorm were imminent, the kind that would crackle through the mountain, start floods that would alter the very landscape itself.
He briefly bowed his head. “Mistress Catherine.”
As if he didn’t know her real name.
It was a long time before she took a deep breath and arched a brow. “Did you need something from me?”
She didn’t say his Christian name, and he missed the sound of it on her lips.
He cleared his throat. “There was no shoe outside, and Finn went rushing past with dripping clothes. I was curious.”
“I made him bathe for the harvest festival,” she said coldly, “and he was not happy about it.”
“I see. And did he wash his clothing, too?”
“He decided to bathe wearing them.”
Duncan simply blinked at her for a moment.
Catriona looked away. “It’s a long story, and not mine to tell. Finn will be fine for the festival.”
“Do ye wish to attend?”
Her piercing gaze returned to him. “You would allow it?”
“You already know everything. And ye’ve given your word ye won’t reveal where my people are.”
“You trust me?” she demanded.
“I do.”
