Page 62 of In Bed with her Highland Foe

“What?” Kyven jerked her head around as Helen poured out some water in a goblet to place by Kyven’s bedside.

“It’s what me Ma always said.” Helen shrugged and walked toward the door. “Cannae sleep? Nightmares, dreams and wants keeping ye awake?”

Aye, a lot of wants.

“Then ye need someone beside ye, someone who makes ye feel safe enough tae drop off.”

Kyven chewed her lip as Helen halted at the door.

“Ring the bell if ye want anything,” Helen said softly. “Goodnight, me lady.”

“Good night, Helen.” Kyven waited for the door to close then sat forward on the bed again.

Helen’s suggestion had started something in her mind now. She was picturing spending the night lying beside Gilchrist. They weren’t doing anything, but their arms brushed together as they slept peacefully. Such a feeling of safety wrapped around her body that she sighed heavily.

“Oh, what are ye doing tae me?” she cried aloud, as if Gilchrist would somehow hear her from the barracks. “This is mad, mad! I am nae going tae dae it.” She somehow hoped that if she said the words, she’d abide by them. She flung back the bed covers and crawled in, wearing just her chemise, but as she tucked herself under the covers, she was still cold, and found herself wondering what it would be like to share in the warmth of having another beside her. “This is ridiculous.”

She threw the covers off her and clambered out of the bed. She didn’t think about what she was doing or why, as she wrapped a robe around her shoulders, thick and heavy in its embroidery. She tightened it with a cloth belt at her waist, then slipped her feet into her boots and crept toward the door.

Fortunately, the guard was taking his usual nap, allowing her to creep free of the chamber and along the corridor.

The hardest task came when she tried to tiptoe out of the building. The guards on the door were attending to their duties very eagerly, so she backed away from the door and headed to the library, doing her best to squeeze out of one of the windows. She practically fell through the gap in her eagerness, catching her robe on something that tore the skirt. Cursing under her breath, she jumped to her feet and closed the window, then hurried quietly around the castle edge, toward the barracks on the far edge of the lawn.

With darkness thick around her, it was no easy walk. She tripped more than once on the lump grass and nearly fell. At a distance, she saw some guards were sat up outside of the barracks, sharing a drink, telling stories and playing piquet. She avoided them, giving their lantern light a wide berth and entering the barracks building through the back door.

What am I doing?

She tried to push the thought away, listening to her gut instinct more than any form of reason. She found the staircase leading up to Gilchrist’s room in the darkness and crept up. The closer she got, the more the steps creaked, and she winced, trying not to wake anyone in the other rooms. At the top of the landing, she moved toward Gilchrist’s door, inhaling deeply. Her hand quivered as she tried the door handle, but it didn’t move. It stayed locked, firmly in place. She sighed, knowing she shouldn’t have been surprised that the door was locked after his attack.

“Who’s out there?” Gilchrist’s voice came deeply from inside the room.

She didn’t answer, sudden embarrassment making her quite mortified. She just stood there, staring at the door, hearing footsteps on the other side. The cat hissed, and must have been startled by Gilchrist’s sudden movements, then the door was flung open.

Gilchrist was wearing trews alone, moonlight falling on his bare chest and the pistol in his grasp. When his eyes found hers, he lowered the pistol at once, so it hung loosely at his side.

“What are ye…?” he began, then footsteps sounded far below, and men laughed, evidently coming in from sharing their drink outside. Gilchrist snatched up her arm and pulled her sharply into the room, closing the door before anyone could see them.

They stumbled into the room together, ending up quite flattened against the wall. Kyven was all too aware of his bare chest before her, the glimpse she had of his blue eyes that were staring at her in wonder, before it was over. He backed away, hurrying to a tinder box and lighting a candle as she caught her breath, a hand on her chest.

“Kyven, what are ye doing?” he whispered, placing the candle on the bedside table, then sitting on the edge of his bed.

Lottie moved from where she had clearly been sleeping on the bed beside him, nuzzling his side.

“I… I…” She scrambled for words. “I came tae check on the cat?” she said, her voice so uncertain it sounded more like a question than a statement.

Gilchrist’s eyebrows raised on his forehead, the disbelief plain.

“If anyone saw ye coming, the scandal –” he began, but she shook her head, hardly caring if there was a scandal now. She had just wanted to come and see him. What was so wrong in that? “Kyven?”

“I ken.” She held up her hands. “I ken I shouldnae be here, and I have nay real excuse fer being here. It’s just… I wanted tae come.” She avoided looking him in the eye and stared at the cat instead, who was now purring under Gilchrist’s stroking hand.

“Well,” Gilchrist sighed, “ye cannae leave now. If ye dae, ye’re likely tae be seen.” He sat back on the bed and Lottie settled on the bedside cabinet, opting to make one of his old shirts her bed for the night instead. “Ye can sleep here.”

Kyven stepped forward, uncertainty making her gut quiver. Did he mean the bed? The floor? She stepped toward the hearth rug.

“Nae there.” He beckoned with his hand and pointed at the bed beside him.

Without words, she walked around the bed onto the other side and clambered onto the cushions. She didn’t quite sit back but sat upright instead.