Kate was torn between smiling like a dreamy dimwit into his beautiful eyes, or smashing a trencher over his head for not even caring if she was in love with an Englishman.
“Later.” Maggie tugged on her hand, pulling her away from Callum. “I’m sure she will not want to eat Keddy’s supper after she meets Henry and the others.”
Kate felt Callum’s eyes on her, but she did not turn around as they exited through a small door at the other end of the hall. They entered the kitchen, and Maggie threw the burly, chubby-faced cook a glare as menacing as her brother’s on his angriest day. Kate plucked an apple from the chopping table just before she was hauled through another door. She completely missed Keddy’s scathing glare.
A cool, salty breeze whipped through Kate’s hair when they stepped outside. But for the distant roar of whitecaps forging toward the shore, the only sound in the utter stillness of the surrounding mist was Kate’s own breath.
“It is beautiful here,” she said, gazing at the twilight wonder around her. “But we should go back inside. It’s too difficult to see.”
Maggie yanked on her hand. “Follow me.”
A few more steps and Maggie pulled on another door just off the eastern wall of the castle. The wood creaked, weathered on its hinges. Kate followed her inside what she assumed was the barn, if the sounds of squawking made by various farm animals were any indication. Finally Maggie released her hand and reached up to retrieve a small lantern hanging low on a wooden rafter. She lit the candlewick inside, and Kate drew in a short gasp. It was a barn, but like none she had ever seen before. Fresh hay littered the floor, and bags of oats and nuts hung from hooks on the walls. There were no cages to house the animals. Instead, they roamed freely, nibbling at scattered cornmeal and sliced apples strewn along the floor. There were not many animals here. A duck was either very happy to see the two women or quite displeased, for she waddled at them honking loud enough to wake the dead. A pig followed the duck in hot pursuit, snorting just as loudly. An old horse crunched on a carrot in the corner, and he, too, looked up when Maggie and Kate entered. A gray and white cat leapt from the rafters and startled Kate.
“Bertrid, this is Kate, my friend,” Maggie informed the purring cat and then sat down on the floor. “Well?” She glanced up at Kate. “Are ye not going to say hullo back?”
“Greetings to you, Bertrid,” Kate replied politely, feeling silly. She felt a tug on her skirt.
“Come doun here. ’Tis less threatening to them. They do not know ye yet, Kate.”
Kate bit into her apple and glanced around at the corn strings decorating the barn from rafter to rafter. Crisscrossing the corn were strings of blackberry, elderberry, and various nuts. Animals were carved into the wood, and dried daffodils fragranced the air. It was positively enchanting. “You did all this?”
“Jamie did it for me. Now sit.”
Kate obeyed and waited for the next introduction.
“This is Henry.” Maggie became the perfect chatelaine as she introduced the snorting pig to her newest friend. “He likes to be pet behind the ears. And that’s Matilda. She honks aplenty, and though I vow she rants louder than Angus, ’tis but her declaration of love. That’s Ahern. He was Callum’s best warhorse. He once belonged to the Earl of Argyll, but Callum took him when we left. Ahern is verra braw, but he’s old now.”
By now, Henry the pig had curled up into in Kate’s lap like a well-loved puppy, and to her surprise Kate felt a sense of calm wash over her, be it from the comforting, gentle tones of Maggie’s lilting voice or from Henry’s slow, rhythmic breathing. She liked it here, and she was glad to be away from all the eyes in the great hall.
The barn door opened, and Matilda spread her wings and honked out a few more oaths as wind blew the hay on the floor into circles around the small group.
“We are fine, Jamie,” Maggie called out without turning. Then she looked at Kate through the corner of her eye and explained in a low voice, “My brother always sends him to watch over me as if I were a hapless child.”
Kate was about to turn around to greet him when she heard Callum’s thick, velvet voice behind her.
“Yer brother only wants to be assured of yer safety. Should we flog him fer that?” His tone was light, and when he reached them he folded his long legs and sat down in the hay beside Kate.
“Och, ye’ve been flogged before and it did not help a bit,” his sister replied tartly.
Kate shot her an incredulous look. How could they jest about such a thing when Callum bore those terrible scars all across his back? She felt his gaze on her and turned to find she was right. His eyes flickered in the light like embers. When he spoke, the husky cadence of his voice made Kate’s spine tingle.
“How d’ye like my sister’s friends?”
“I think I like Henry best.” She lowered her gaze to the sleeping pig in her lap.
Callum watched her stroke the swine and imagined what it would be like to have her touch him with such care.
“Ye have no’ met Sarah yet, then?” he asked, rising to his feet again. He crossed the barn and bent into the shadows. When he came into the light again, he was carrying a small lamb in his arms.
Unabashedly, Kate watched him. She loved how he walked, proud but not arrogant, with the grace of a king and the quiet strength of a leader. He squatted before Maggie and handed the lamb to her, then sat down near Kate again.
“She’s a bonny babe!” Kate cooed and slipped her fingers beneath Sarah’s woolly chin. “What big brown eyes she has.”
Maggie seemed to melt, caressing the lamb to her chest. She closed her eyes and lavished Sarah’s head with kisses. “Sarah must stay here now since she was trampled by the other sheep,” Maggie told her, her kisses unceasing. “Keddy wanted to make stew of her.”
Kate gasped.
“Aye,” agreed Maggie. “But I bit him and asked him how he liked it.”
