“Oh my, nay. Jamie will not need one for obvious reasons. Nor will you.”
“Obvious reasons?”
“Jamie is a handsome young lad.”
“And I?” He was confident she would give him the same praise.
“Ye’ll not need one…for I never weep.”
The entire hall erupted with laughter. Tearloch exchanged a glance with her while they tried to decide which of them should be the most offended.
When Tearloch joinedin the laughter, Kenna realized this was not the same man who had rescued her from The Gowry. The hardened knight had completely transformed. The deep lines on his face, that she’d assumed were from constant scowling, receded even deeper into his flesh when he laughed. The dark brows shot up into his forehead, and those permanent creases radiated from the sides of his eyes.
He threw his head back and exposed his straight white teeth, something she rarely saw while he was stalking her around the bedchamber, or over a fire, or staring at her lips. He was beautiful. His bright green eyes were nearly closed by cheeks that threatened to displace them, and Kenna realized that this must be his natural disposition, to laugh heartily and allow his joy to infect others.
She knew two things instantly—that she wanted nothing more in that moment than to believe he could be this happy forever…and that to leave him, when the king came to collect his ward, would cause her very real pain.
For Tearloch to be truly happy, however, the king had to come. Which meant she would be taken away, likely used to make some alliance, her hand in marriage given over to some laird that would hopefully be less monstrous than Struan Gowry.
This man has the power to hurt me…
And yet, she couldn’t wish away the time they’d spent together.
The first morning she rose alone in the second bedchamber, a maid had come to lay the morning fire. She’d been young, eager, and easy to draw out.
Kenna had learned that the room had been Tearloch’s until his father was killed and Tearloch had become laird. And this visit was the first he’d made to Lochahearn since that day. That he had yet to mourn his father properly, but his place had been at the king’s side, that he'd trained and fought with Malcolm, his boyhood companion, in every battle.
She’d pointed to two toy soldiers on the mantle. “Even the imaginary ones.” And now, the maid believed Tearloch was home to stay.
The lass had also answered Kenna’s questions about his mother, who had died when Tearloch was eight summers. Since then, the only women in his life had been servants, and so he’d never been taught the proper way to speak to ladies. And for as long as anyone could remember, when high-borns would come to Lochahearn, he would fall mute, only to be himself again once they departed.
“He has clearly overcome the malady now,” she’d added. “Otherwise, he could never have said a word to ye.”
Since that conversation many days ago, Kenna had grown attached to the room, attached to the soldiers on the mantel and the ghosts of wee lads playing out battles on the floor, one of whom feared speaking to lassies.
She’d asked Tearloch to allow her to remain there, and not just because she wished to avoid sharing his bed. Because she often imagined doing just that…
A pity the king couldn’t give her hand to his champion. Then she could share the happiness she wished for Tearloch Chattan.But once she murdered The MacPherson, there were only a handful of ways the king would deal with her, and an honorable marriage was not one.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Duncan and Jamie did indeed return the next day, bearded and wild-eyed. He was just handing over his reigns to the stable master when Lady Kenna emerged from the keep doors and hurried to greet them with a curtsy.
“Sir Duncan, Sir Jamie, welcome home. I must ask your forgiveness for vexing you to the point you had to flee.”
A crowd of soldiers had gathered, smiling at Duncan as if they knew what was coming.
“Forgiven, my lady. But ye will no’ bow and scrape to the likes of me,” he said quietly. He was still eyeing the crowd when Kenna flung her arms around his neck and pulled him into an embrace.
“Thank ye, Sir Duncan. Thank ye.”
Jamie was eager to forgive her and collect his embrace as well. When she let him go, she returned to take Duncans hands in hers. “I worried ye would never come back.”
“Our place is here, my lady.” Then he leaned forward to whisper, “I missed ye, too.” His slightly wizened eyes smiled into hers and she laughed.
“I have a gift for ye.” She reached into a deep apron pocket and pulled out a clean white cloth with fancy edging which shepressed into his hand. “Just ask the lads and they’ll be happy to instruct you on how to catch a lady with it.” And with that, she turned and hurried back into the keep.
Duncan stared at the kerchief and then at the ‘lads’ eagerly awaiting their chance toinstructhim.
