opportunity to hear what he planned to tell the group about Fiona and Colin Ross, and knew she’d hear the truth of it when the silence was gone and there would be something besides the road to occupy the men’s attention.
Once the porridge had been poured and the bread distributed, the men tore into their meals and Kensey leaned in to Malcolm. She thought he returned the gesture with a bit too much intimacy for her taste, but she needed to hear what he would say only to her about Fiona’s state of being.
“Tell me of your encounter at Ross.” Kensey whispered, facing the rest of the group, but Malcolm turned his face toward her to whisper back. The smell of honey on his breath overwhelmed her.
“I found her at her bedside, the rest of the house asleep. She was… tied to a corner of the bed like a horse.” Malcolm’s face curled in disgust and Kensey held her breath. Certainly, he might be afraid of her running off, but what kind of brute would tie his future wife to her bed?
“At first, she thought I was one of Ross’s men and struck me. By the time I tried to reason with her, she’d practically roused the house.” Malcolm’s expression remained deadpan on his steady face. His fist tightened around the edge of his bowl until his knuckles turned white. “Then that blasted Ross came in and we fought. I bested him, and she still would not come with me.”
“You must tell me what she said.”
“She said her father would find Duncan and kill him, and her as well, if she did not do as he ordered.” Malcolm put his bowl down and sighed.
“But she loves Duncan. I know it.” Kensey stared across the hall and felt the familiar memories of affection wash over her. What she would have done to keep Albert. What she would have done to keep Margaret away. Sadness crept upon her slowly as she compared Fiona’s lot with her own. A tear slid out of her control and Malcolm grasped her hand.
“I’m sure she loves Duncan.” A shadow passed over his dark eyes. “Apparently love is not enough.”
***
Kensey stood on the battlements all morning, watching the open land for signs of the man who had saved her. Her mother tried to persuade her to sleep, but it wouldn’t come. After hearing Malcolm’s strange tale of Fiona’s reticence, she wanted nothing more than another problem on which to focus.
Robert had followed the Sinclair men on food for as long as he was in sight of the house, and Kensey confessed a desire to watch over him as well. He took the wooden sword Papa made him and ran out onto the hillside to fight with imaginary English soldiers.
She leaned into one of the crenels and hung her torso over the edge of the tower where it dropped, sheer, into a trench her father’s father had dug around the back side of the keep. Kensey remembered being a little girl and not reaching even the edge of the turrets. So much time had passed. So many things had changed.
Near the height of the sun, she heard footsteps on the tower stairs and braced herself for Ete and Ene or Reyf to come and scold her. This was, truth be told, part of why she’d hidden. Instead, the graceful and slow figure of Gabrielle MacLeod emerged. Kensey crossed the tower floor to take her mother’s arm, surprised she’d made it up all the stairs. Although heaven only knew how long it had taken her to climb them all.
“Why are you out of bed, mother?” Kensey led her to the nearest turret and leaned her mother into the resting space.
“I wanted to speak to you, away from the prying ears of the household.” Gabrielle grasped Kensey’s hand.
“You could have summoned me to the solar. I would have gladly attended you there.” Kensey glanced around to spot her brother and angled herself so she could watch them both at once.
“I have no more privacy in my own bedchamber than I do in the great hall.” Gabrielle’s eyes darkened. “I am glad you came up here. It may be the only place in the entire castle that we can be
Once the porridge had been poured and the bread distributed, the men tore into their meals and Kensey leaned in to Malcolm. She thought he returned the gesture with a bit too much intimacy for her taste, but she needed to hear what he would say only to her about Fiona’s state of being.
“Tell me of your encounter at Ross.” Kensey whispered, facing the rest of the group, but Malcolm turned his face toward her to whisper back. The smell of honey on his breath overwhelmed her.
“I found her at her bedside, the rest of the house asleep. She was… tied to a corner of the bed like a horse.” Malcolm’s face curled in disgust and Kensey held her breath. Certainly, he might be afraid of her running off, but what kind of brute would tie his future wife to her bed?
“At first, she thought I was one of Ross’s men and struck me. By the time I tried to reason with her, she’d practically roused the house.” Malcolm’s expression remained deadpan on his steady face. His fist tightened around the edge of his bowl until his knuckles turned white. “Then that blasted Ross came in and we fought. I bested him, and she still would not come with me.”
“You must tell me what she said.”
“She said her father would find Duncan and kill him, and her as well, if she did not do as he ordered.” Malcolm put his bowl down and sighed.
“But she loves Duncan. I know it.” Kensey stared across the hall and felt the familiar memories of affection wash over her. What she would have done to keep Albert. What she would have done to keep Margaret away. Sadness crept upon her slowly as she compared Fiona’s lot with her own. A tear slid out of her control and Malcolm grasped her hand.
“I’m sure she loves Duncan.” A shadow passed over his dark eyes. “Apparently love is not enough.”
***
Kensey stood on the battlements all morning, watching the open land for signs of the man who had saved her. Her mother tried to persuade her to sleep, but it wouldn’t come. After hearing Malcolm’s strange tale of Fiona’s reticence, she wanted nothing more than another problem on which to focus.
Robert had followed the Sinclair men on food for as long as he was in sight of the house, and Kensey confessed a desire to watch over him as well. He took the wooden sword Papa made him and ran out onto the hillside to fight with imaginary English soldiers.
She leaned into one of the crenels and hung her torso over the edge of the tower where it dropped, sheer, into a trench her father’s father had dug around the back side of the keep. Kensey remembered being a little girl and not reaching even the edge of the turrets. So much time had passed. So many things had changed.
Near the height of the sun, she heard footsteps on the tower stairs and braced herself for Ete and Ene or Reyf to come and scold her. This was, truth be told, part of why she’d hidden. Instead, the graceful and slow figure of Gabrielle MacLeod emerged. Kensey crossed the tower floor to take her mother’s arm, surprised she’d made it up all the stairs. Although heaven only knew how long it had taken her to climb them all.
“Why are you out of bed, mother?” Kensey led her to the nearest turret and leaned her mother into the resting space.
“I wanted to speak to you, away from the prying ears of the household.” Gabrielle grasped Kensey’s hand.
“You could have summoned me to the solar. I would have gladly attended you there.” Kensey glanced around to spot her brother and angled herself so she could watch them both at once.
“I have no more privacy in my own bedchamber than I do in the great hall.” Gabrielle’s eyes darkened. “I am glad you came up here. It may be the only place in the entire castle that we can be
Similar Books
