He had to duck as he crossed the room to the trunk. Lifting the lid, he knew at once Mary had been right about the identity of the owner. He recognized the same leather covers of the journal his friend William Gordon had that had burned in the fire all those years ago. A buzz of excitement ran over his skin, crackling like lightning when he saw the sealed pottery jars. Suspecting what they contained, he put one aside to examine later and started in on the journals. He flipped through page after page, looking for anything that might be a recipe or formula. With every minute that passed, his disappointment grew. He’d been so certain, damn it. He was on the third volume when he heard the door behind him open.
“What are you doing?”
Damn, it was Mary. He slammed the volume closed and placed it back in the trunk. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“My room is just below this one. I thought I heard something. But what are you doing up here?”
He smiled. “I thought I would move your trunk.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“I was curious.”
She immediately brightened. “To see the baby’s room? You should have woken me. What do you think?”
He felt a stab of guilt. Her happiness and excitement ate at him. He hadn’t been thinking about the child’s room because heknewit wasn’t going to be the child’s room at all. He looked around the small chamber. “It’s nice.”
She rolled her eyes, walking toward him. “Nice? It’s perfect. I’m going to put a chair over here,” she pointed to a place before the window, “the cradle will be against the far wall, and the nurse will sleep in the antechamber.”
Kenneth felt ill. “You have it all planned out.”
She gave him a funny look. “It won’t be long now. Davey came a few weeks early. Perhaps this baby will do the same.”
Kenneth hoped the sudden lack of blood in his face wasn’t visible in the candlelight. “I didn’t realize…”
He’d just assumed. Ah hell, he really had to get her out of here.
She laughed. “Babies have their own time. They come when they want to, and I just want to be ready.”
And he was just realizing how unready he was.
“Is something wrong, Kenneth? Is something bothering you?”
Something was bothering him all right. She was so damned happy. What he was doing was wrong. He’d created a world of illusions for a woman who’d already had them shattered once before.
But how was he going to tell her the truth? “I’ve been a bit preoccupied with my duties, that’s all. With the king leaving London, everyone is anxious.”
“Are you sure that is all?”
“What else could there be?”
“I thought it might have something to do with me. Have I done something to displease you?”
He smiled, caressing her cheek with his hand. “You please me very much.”
But she wouldn’t be distracted by sensual teasing. She turned her face from his hand. “That isn’t what I was talking about. Have I done something to make you not wish to confide in me? I had hoped you would trust me to share your confidences.”
“I do trust you.” At least he wanted to. But it was all so new to him. Now that he had her love, he didn’t want to lose it.
“And I you. I’m sorry I ever doubted you.” She put her palm on his chest and looked up at him, the trust shining in her eyes making his chest knife. “You are nothing like Atholl. I know that now.”
Kenneth flinched. He wasn’t like Atholl, he was worse. Atholl hadn’t loved her. Atholl hadn’t deceived her.
He needed to tell her. He probably should have done so before. He thought it was wiser to wait until she was safely in Scotland, as by then it would be too late for her to refuse to go. But if he told her now, he could still keep part of his vow to her. He had to have faith in her. In them. She would be angry at first, but he had to trust that she would understand.
“If Atholl had given you a choice, Mary, what would you have had him do? Would you have told him to fight with Bruce or with Edward?”
She blinked up at him in the candlelight, obviously taken aback by his question. “I would have had him protect us.”
