“It is true,” Kali confirmed. How had they come to know so much about her? The laird and Adam had both told her that her reason for being here had been kept secret.
“But why?” Leah asked, overcome with curiosity, too.
One of the other girls reached out and caught a strand of Kali’s hair, touching it almost reverently. “’Tis the color of fire!”
Kali offered her a warm smile. “I have heard ’tis a rare color for this part of the Highlands.”
“There are two golden-haired girls who live inside the keep, and three or four men with flaxen hair,” Leah said. “But red hair? Not a one that I can remember. Not here or in the village. Not even the neighboring village.”
“Well,” Kali said, “I hope my hair color doesna frighten ye. If it does, I can keep my head covered.” She made to pull her shawl up again, but Leah stayed her hand with a gesture to stop.
“Please doona cover yer hair, Lady Kali.”
“All right,” she said. “Can ye introduce yer friends to me?”
Leah nodded. “That is Ben and his sister, Micah. Little Mary. Silas. And Stephen and Gavin are brothers.”
Kali looked at each child long enough to notice their unique features, hoping to memorize their names quickly. “I am Kali Bane, and verra happy to meet all of ye.”
She was greeted warmly by each child; this time none of them were nervous. Like her sisters, these children had loving spirits and were not quick to judge. If only her father possessed some of these noble qualities…
“Have ye no homes to go to?”
“Nay,” Evan said. “We are orphans—all of us.”
The sad news broke Kali’s heart, but she didn’t show it. “Are ye all MacKays?”
“Almost all of us,” Stephen spoke up. “Ben and Micah are MacLarens, and Silas doesna have a surname. Nobody knows where he came from.”
Kali scolded herself again for being such a fool that she thought her circumstances in life were the worst anyone could face. At least she had a family and a name—knew where her people came from. She eyed Silas with sincere sympathy, wishing his life could be different, wishing all the children had parents and warm places to eat and sleep.
“Were ye sleeping in the tower until I came here?”
None of the children seemed to want to answer that question.
“Dinna fear telling me the truth,” she said.
Evan kicked at a rock with the toe of his very worn shoe. “We were told not to get caught there again by the laird’s personal secretary.”
“How long ago?” Kali asked.
“A week,” Evan answered. “He promised to beat us if we were caught.”
Kali’s stomach clenched in anger at such a notion. What kind of man threatened children? Couldn’t Adam intervene on their behalf? She would surely find out. “I think that no longer matters, since I am now the mistress of the tower.” She glanced down at Jenna, the youngest of the nine children, and the lass smiled. “In fact, I am inviting ye all to accompany me back to the tower to enjoy some broth and meat.”
The children chattered among themselves before Evan accepted her offer. “We are grateful for yer kindness, Lady Kali.”
She didn’t know how her maid or the old woman would react to being disturbed by the large group, but she didn’t care. They deserved compassion.
Kali looked about, knowing there would be guards patrolling the castle grounds. “If ye are not to be near the tower, how have ye gone unnoticed this long?”
“We know the schedules the guards and maids keep,” Evan said proudly. “There are ways around them—ways to find food and other things we need.”
Stealing could mean getting whipped, banished from clan lands, or even death—especially for children of an older age. “How old are ye, Evan? Leah?”
“I am thirteen,” Leah said. “And me brother is fourteen.”
“Please listen to me,” Kali almost whispered so no one could overhear her advice. “If ye take food in the future, make sure it is the youngest of ye doing it, so if ye’re caught, the penalty willna be as severe. Even a laird as misaligned as the one who rules this clan canna have a heavy hand with the smallest of ye.”
