Tearloch sensed a change in Kenna.Though he waited the rest of the way to Lochahearn, she explained nothing, asked nothing, and would not give him the least hint at what might be troubling her.
Just inside the gate, still in the outer bailey, Big Rabbie held out his arms to lift her off his commander’s horse.
“Rabbie will take ye from here so I can greet my people.” Tearloch held her gaze a moment more, but she lifted her chin and said nothing.
Once on the ground, she let the blanket fall behind her head and looked up into the giant’s eyes. “Forgive me, Sir Rabbie. I insulted you, and I regret it sincerely.”
Rabbie’s spine straightened, and he gave her a nod before offering his hand. Then he led her away. Thankfully, they didn’t have to walk through a whispering, curious crowd because it seemed the residence of the entire glen were waiting on the inner wall to celebrate the return of their heroes.
She wasn’t surprised when she was led far around to the back wall and ushered through a small gate, then into the keep itself. The smells from the kitchen were strong, and her stomach answered with a hungry growl.
A great roar of celebration broke loose outside, and though the big man didn’t miss a step, he smiled. At the bottom of a stairwell, he gave her a nod and a shrug before lifting her into his arms. When he practically filled the stairwell by himself, she understood. But instead of heading down the steps, his muscles surged beneath her and they ascended.
No dungeons. At least not yet. Not until Malcolm III condemns me for my aunt’s actions.
Absently, she wondered just how badly she wanted to fight for herself…
Eventually she was returned to her feet in a large, comfortably furnished room with stone walls covered with thick tapestries. When she had her balance, Rabbie stepped back. The bed was draped in an intense shade of blue, and a crest hung on the wall above the hearth.
She looked up at Rabbie. “The laird’s chambers?”
The man nodded, the turned and dragged his massive, heavy boots out the door.
A woman bustled in just before he closed the door. She never even looked at Kenna as she flitted around the room directing two girls in her wake to set a large copper tub in front of thefire where it was immediately filled by a string of men carrying steaming buckets. Not one of them glanced her way.
“The laird ordered ye a bath, my lady. Ye have an hour to yerself. These two will assist ye.” Only then did the woman meet Kenna’s eye. She blushed hot red and looked away again.
“I need no assistance, but I thank you.”
The girls blinked at each other, deposited the towels and soap cakes on a small table, then scurried out.
The woman pointed to two buckets of water left on the floor. “For rinsing,” she said, as if Kenna had never bathed before. Then she, too, hurried away with a scowl on her face she likely thought Kenna wouldn’t notice.
Ah, yes. Word had definitely spread.
She suddenly realized that the laird of Lochahearn might not be Sir Tearloch. He’d never said as much, only called the place his home. And if she was allowed to bathe in the laird’s chamber, just what else would this unknown man expect from her?
Her eye caught on another bit of blue—her own boots that had been left by the wall. Perhaps it was Providence warning her it was time to run.
She wasted no time pulling the soft boots onto her feet. Stockings were a luxury for another day. She then took a cloak that had been laid out on the bed and wrapped it around her, sure to secure every last red hair inside before opening the door.
Two guards faced her from across the hall a mere five feet away, swords in hand. They seemed none too happy to see her but all too glad to raise their blades and silently promise she would not leave the place alive if that was her intention.
Without a word, she closed the door.
The windows were narrow, the wall below was smooth with few footholds. And yet another guard stood directly below the room. Even if she had a rope, she would be caught.
Someone at Lochahearn didn’t trust her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Tearloch fought to hide the wild relief he felt thanks to the welcome he and his men received from the people of Lochahearn. Certainly, they might harbor some resentment against him for not coming home sooner, and aye, most of the cheering was primarily for his men. But not all. Certainly not all.
Familiar faces fairly wore themselves out with cheering. Arms waved enthusiastically when he and Duncan walked through the inner gates as if the celebration had been held in check until they arrived.
Tearloch finally smiled his crooked smile at the people gathered before him in the bailey, but he was worried about his men. They were avoiding direct eye contact again, and something sharp twisted in his chest. As the throng parted to let them up the steps, he made his decision. He would not risk losing the loyalty of his men, no matter what the king wished.
Upon reaching the top step, he turned to the crowd and lifted his arms for silence. The yard stilled. He waited a moment for his captains to look his way, then he smiled and winked at Duncan.
