“It will do for tonight.”
“You clearly have a thing for dusty old places,” Heather said as she glanced inside. “How did you know this was here?”
“A laird must ken his land well. I am aware of every secret place where a man can hide out.”
“Just don’t ask me to play hide and seek, I don’t think I’d have a chance.”
He frowned. “You say much I do not understand.”
“Sorry. Where I come from, we talk quite differently. In fact, shouldn’t you be speaking Gaelic?”
“I am.”
“No you’re not.”
“Yes I am. As are you.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
He shook his head. “Is this some riddle because if it is, now is not a good time.”
“Weird,” she muttered to herself. “I’m seriously speaking Gaelic right now?”
“Same as me.”
“Must be the key,” she muttered to herself.
“I will be back,” he replied, leaving her to her thoughts. He headed outside to gather wood for a fire. He needed to find out the truth about her and quickly. It was still possible she was a spy for Mungo and if so taking her back to the castle was filled with risk.
He thought for a moment about leaving her and heading off alone. Almost at once he felt sick. The very idea of abandoning her was painful to his very soul. He would never do it.
But what if she was a spy? What if she was using the old story about the keys to get close to him?
He could offer to marry her of course. Call her bluff. If she was a spy, she would refuse at once. No other woman would refuse such an offer from a laird. He found himself liking the idea more and more. If she was a Frazer spy and she said yes that would cement the two clans together better than any war ever could.
He returned to the farmhouse, finding Heather had been busy clearing a space for them to sleep in, gathering loose straw and piling it together to form rudimentary mattresses. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Starving.”
He set a trap nearby, and then returned once more to light the fire. By the time the flame was going a rabbit was dead in the trap. He brought the carcass inside and skinned it quickly.
Heather watched him in silence as he cooked the flesh, the mouthwatering smell filling the air. He passed the first cooked portion to her.
“You must eat too,” she insisted, refusing to take it.
“I will eat when we reach the castle.”
“I won’t touch it unless you have some too.”
Did she know he thought she was a spy? Was she refusing in case he’d poisoned it? If so, she was more cunning than she looked. She was an enigma, he could not make up his mind who she really was.
He ate the first piece and that seemed to satisfy her. As they finished the rest, she settled in the straw with the blanket over her. Gavin sat by the fire as the flames began to die, lost in thought.
Soon she was laid down with her eyes closed. He turned to look at her. She was truly beautiful, the light of the flames making her skin glow in a way that was utterly adorable. She looked like an angel. He wanted to lay beside her, hold her in his arms, forget the clan, forget the world, just be with her, the two of them alone together.
She opened her eyes and smiled sleepily at him. “Are you not tired?”
“A little,” he admitted. “I will sleep soon.”
