Page 13 of Pretty in Plaid
“Do ye need to rest?” Sorley asked. Though she could barely see his expression in the dark, his tone was concerned.
Being the reason they were caught by the dragoons in hot pursuit was not on her list of goals for the night, so she shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“Ye were falling. Again.”
“I was no’.”
He didn’t say anything, but his silence was question enough.
“Nay,” she said with a little more vigor. “Merely stretching.”
“A strange way to stretch.” There was a touch of sarcasm in his tone.
“I never said I was no’ strange,” she quipped right back.
“True enough. Only a strange lass would wear a plaid gown to a ball thrown for redcoats.”
Kenna laughed, but the sound was not full and hearty like usual. Mostly because she was thinking about the family she’d left behind and worrying about what had happened to them. Would Boyd take her disappearance out on her uncle and cousin?
Her thumb rubbed over the base of the ring on her finger, which had been her mother’s. A prayer for her family was all Kenna could do, for Boyd would have certainly violated her had she remained. He’d made that clear. He wouldn’t do that to Elizabeth, who was innocent of any rebel activity, whereas Kenna was the one with tainted blood, even if she’d yet to commit what they saw as a crime.
Even still, she asked, “Do ye think Boyd will...hurt my family?”
Sorley grunted. “I think he wants to harm anyone with a drop of Scottish blood in him, but I believe Duncan and Elizabeth are safe. Your uncle has proven himself a man loyal to King George, and he will protect his daughter. No doubt, they’d throw your name out with the offal, though.”
“I do no’ care what they say about me, as long as Elizabeth comes to no harm. And as irritating as I found my uncle and his loyalties, I do no’ wish him to come to injury either.”
“Then ye need no’ worry. If Boyd were to cause them to be in any danger, it would no’ bode well for other Scots loyal to King George, and the relative peace they are trying to accomplish would come to an end.”
“Sometimes, I think they want it to come to an end so they can start a war.”
Sorley’s face clouded in grim recognition. “I do believe war is imminent, lass.”
“I hate war.” A sick swirling in her belly made her a little nauseous.
“Have ye witnessed a battle, lass?”
Kenna shook her head. “The stories were enough.”
“Aye, and the losses.”
They were both silent for a moment, thinking about the loss of their parents, their homes. Did he lay awake at night and wonder what life would be like if they’d not lost so much? Many nights, she did.
“How fortunate we both are for the charity of others,” she said. “I for my Uncle Duncan, and ye for my uncle, Laird MacLeod.”
“And ye too for Laird MacLeod.”
Kenna raised a brow, even though he couldn’t see. “That remains to be seen. Right now, all I know is that my uncle sent ye to get me, and now I’m on the run. Does no’ seem so very much like charity to me, but rather a punishment. I’ve lost my belongings and my home. And my cousin who was my confidante.”
“When ye put it that way, I can understand why ye might be miffed.”
“Miffed?” Her tone came out as exasperated as she felt. “Miffed would be if I got mud on my brand-new boots or the hem of a clean gown. I assure ye, Retriever, I am more than miffed.”
“Ah, well, I thank ye for putting into words how ye feel.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’d put it into action, but I daresay the laird would prefer ye arrive in one piece.”
“So much venom after so much sweetness.” Again that mocking tone.
