Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
T he morning light filtered softly through the small window of Catherine's bed chamber, gently nudging her awake from her slumber. As her eyes fluttered open, she found herself enveloped in a sense of calm. Her feet met the cold stone floor, sending a slight shiver through her body. She approached the wash basin, the water refreshing as she splashed it onto her face, dispelling the remnants of sleep.
Dressing herself, Catherine marveled at how accustomed she was becoming to these unfamiliar garments, and she was becoming quite the expert at putting them on. Today’s gown was a new one that Bridie had delivered to her. It was a nice shade of blue and had dark blue embroidery along the neckline and trim of the skirt. Catherine liked the way it fit her perfectly the way only something custom-made could.
After dressing, she descended down the stairs and headed to the dining room where she fixed herself a bowl of porridge with honey, her new favorite breakfast, and listened to the conversations flowing around her. She missed Mae’s company, and that of Eamon’s if she was honest, but she wasn’t going to seek him out after last night’s conversation. It was too fresh in her mind.
Stepping outside once she finished her breakfast, the crisp air greeted her, and she inhaled deeply, feeling alive in a way she hadn't before. The fort's courtyard was alive with movement, as everyone got started on their morning tasks. For the past week, Catherine had taken to going on morning walks, leaving the fort and going down to the small village and to the shore of the loch. It was quite beautiful here, and she enjoyed the calmness and peacefulness of the scenery.
As she walked, Catherine's thoughts turned to her life as a history scholar. The opportunity to live within history rather than simply studying it was a dream come true. The books she once pored over now paled in comparison to the lived experience she was accumulating. It was as though every moment spent in this time had become a chapter in a story she was writing with her very presence. Not that she neglected her studies. She still poured over the texts in the library at Fort Donald and she was learning a great deal about their history and the history between the Donalds and the Campbells as well.
The deeper she dove into all of it, the more drawn to this place and time she was. It had captured her heart, her interest in a way nothing else ever had. She felt as though by being here, with these people, with the Donalds, that she was becoming a part of this history. A part of their history and it was an amazing feeling.
Later that day, after spending some time in the library, Catherine headed for the dining hall. Her eyes scanned the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone familiar. Her thoughts drifted momentarily to Eamon and his intense gaze, a memory that never failed to send a thrill through her. But she was still upset with him from the night before.
As she settled at a corner table, a plate of meat and cheese before her, Eamon's warnings about Sir Kellan echoed in her mind, a voice of caution that warred with her own curiosity. It wasn’t as though Catherine hadn’t come across men like Sir Kellan before. He was handsome and knew it. He used his wit like a weapon and his charm, when he chose to use it, was undeniable. But, were this the twenty-first century, she’d look at him and know he wasn’t boyfriend material. She figured the same applied here. What had her angry though was that Eamon thought so little of her that he’d demanded she stay away from him. Like she was a child with know opinions or thoughts of her own.
With a sigh, Catherine took an angry bite of her cheese. Despite her growing feelings for Eamon, she was still pissed off at him and she wasn’t ready to forgive him, let alone search him out and spend any time with him.
After eating, Catherine decided to clear her head and attempt to let go of her anger by taking a walk in the courtyard, only to find Sir Kellan seated at a table near the guards office reading a book. Feeling a bit defiant, and the urge to debate, she approached him.
"Good day, Sir Kellan."
Kellan's pale blue eyes lifted from the pages, a smile quirking at his lips. "Ah, Lady Catherine, what brings you out to the courtyard this fine afternoon?”
Catherine's own lips curved into a small smile as she replied, "Perhaps the same reason that brought you here, a desire for solitude and a good book."
He chuckled. “Have a seat, though, I fear you may have forgotten something.”
Catherine’s brow furrowed. “Have I?”
“Two things actually.” He smirked.
“And what might those be, Sir Kellan?”
“First, if you’re looking for solitude, then you’re doing it incorrectly, and second, you’ve not brought a book with you.” He grinned wickedly.
Catherine laughed. “You’re right, of course. Perhaps I should have said you had the right idea and that is what I should be doing, but here we are.” She smiled. “What are you reading, if you don’t mind me asking.”
As she settled beside him, he turned the book to her, revealing the cover of Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure. “Have you read it?” he asked.
“I have actually. Not one of my favorites, but I recall somewhat enjoying it.”
“And what did you like about it? Did you nae find it crude?”
“What, because Angelo tries to blackmail Isabella into fornicating with him, despite the fact she was a nun?” Catherine arched a brow.
“I suppose that too could be found crude, though I meant Claudio impregnating Juliet before even marrying her. Was the entire tale nae too crass for a lady of your station?”
“Sir Kellan, what I found enjoyable was Angelo getting his comeuppance, from the Duke, and from Mariana who he betrayed continuously. As to it being crass, and me being too delicate, well, I think you mistake me for some vapid young miss.” Catherine hoped she had the right vernacular. She was fairly certain vapid had been a word used to describe boring young women of this era.
Sir Kellan chuckled. “Touché, Lady Catherine. Vapid is nae a word I would use to describe you. Bonnie perhaps.” He gave her a wicked grin.
Catherine gave him a wary look. She couldn’t tell if he was mocking her again, or if he thought he was being charming. “And what pray-tell do you like about this particular play, Sir Kellan?” she asked.
“I find I relate more to the Duke of the tale. Disguising himself in order to observe how Angelo runs the city in his absence. Observing people when they donnae know they are being watched, is rather enticing, would you nae agree?” he smirked.
“If you believe that people don’t know that is what you are doing, you’re sadly mistaken, Sir Kellan.” Catherine’s lips twitched, but she didn’t let herself smile.
He chuckled and then pushed himself up from the table. “As delightful as this conversation has been, my dear Lady Catherine, I’m afraid duty calls. I’ve letters to write. Have a pleasant afternoon.”
Catherine watched after him. Thinking back over their conversation, she realized she’d enjoyed the challenges he presented. He was obviously well-educated, was witty and charming, but he reminded her a bit too much of a player. She was just a distraction for him, she was sure. She strangely enjoyed his company and conversing with him, but that was all it was.
Eamon on the other hand… Eamon stirred things in her that she’d never felt before. His touch set her skin ablaze, his kiss was like a spark to tinder. He was strong, rugged, and handsome. And while he may not have the obvious education that Sir Kellan had, he was smart as well. He was a problem solver. The way his mind worked intrigued her. He also had a way of pissing her off without realizing it, but it was sort of cute the way he’d seemed jealous when she’d mentioned talking to Sir Kellan.
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the courtyard as Catherine paced near the stone well, lost in her thoughts. She hadn’t seen Eamon since he’d walked away from her the night before and she missed him. She still didn’t like the fact that he’d basically demanded she stay away from Sir Kellan, but she thought maybe she’d been too harsh on him. She wanted a chance to talk to him again without tempers flaring, so she was anxiously awaiting his return.
He'd gone out on patrol again, per usual, but he and his crew, which was how she thought of them, were due to return this evening, which was why she was out here in the courtyard wearing a path in the ground by the stone wall. She was on her hundredth pass when the rhythmic clatter of hooves drew her attention, and her heart skipped a beat as she spun around to see Eamon riding into view. The presence of him and his men commanded the attention of everyone around. Dismounting with the fluid grace of a seasoned Highlander, he strode toward her, a warm smile gracing his lips.
"Good eve, lass," he greeted, his voice a deep rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.
"Hi, Eamon," Catherine replied, trying to steady her breath as his intense blue gaze locked onto hers.
He leaned against the stone wall, his arms folded, and his ankles crossed, his eyes still on her. "How's your day been, then?"
Catherine offered a smile, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her skirt. "Oh, much like any other day. Exploring the surroundings, reading in the library."
"Ah, I wish I could have joined you in your exploring or even in the library. But alas, I'm kept busy with my duties," Eamon said with a hint of regret.
“I know you are, but I wish you could as well. I know you and your men are trying to keep everyone here safe, don’t think I don’t appreciate that.” She laid a hand on his forearm. He chuckled, a low and melodic sound. “We do our best. So tell me what else you did today. Did you read anything interesting?”
Catherine wasn’t one to play games, and she wasn’t going to hide the fact that she conversed with Sir Kellan today. “I did. I was reading up on the Donald history, and then this afternoon, I had a conversation with Sir Kellan about one of Shakespeare’s works. It was entertaining.”
Eamon’s expression fell and his arms unfolded as he pushed off the wall. “I see.”
Catherine sensed a tension in the air, and the lack of Eamon's usual playfulness made her uneasy. "Eamon, are you alright?"
He sighed, his gaze flickering away briefly before returning to her. "Aye, lass. I'm fine. Just...busy thoughts, is all."
“Okay?”
Eamon excused himself with a polite nod. “Excuse me, lass. I have somethings to take care of.” With that he strode away.
She bit her lip, a heavy feeling settling in her chest as she realized the effect her interactions with Sir Kellan were having on Eamon. She hadn’t meant to make him more jealous. She wasn’t trying to push him away. She had only meant to share her day and not hide anything from him. She had to wonder if he thought otherwise. Did he think she was hinting that she was interested in Sir Kellan? Catherine frowned and slowly walked toward the door to return inside. Maybe things would be better tomorrow.
The library was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, creating an intimate atmosphere that seemed to envelop Catherine as she sat at one of the wooden tables, engrossed in a thick tome of historical accounts. She hadn’t been able to sleep, so she’d dressed and come to the library. Now she sat, her fingers tracing the faded ink on the pages, and she lost herself in the tales of centuries past.
The creak of the library door drew her attention, and her heart skipped a beat as Sir Kellan strolled in. She felt a moment of trepidation at his presence. Had he known she was here? Was he following her?
"Good evening, Lady Catherine," Kellan greeted, his voice a rich melody.
"Good evening, Sir Kellan," she replied, hesitantly.
He took a few steps closer, his gaze fixed on her. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything too engrossing, lass."
Catherine smiled. "Not at all. I was simply lost in another time."
Kellan's lips curved into a charming smile, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ah, lost in the past while surrounded by its relics. I find you quite enchanting, I must say."
As he moved closer, he extended a hand, presenting her with a beautifully bound book. "I thought you might like to borrow a book from me. A collection of poets from my own humble library."
The thought was a sweet one, but Catherine once again questioned his motives. Still it was a nice gesture. “Thank you, Sir Kellan. I appreciate you thinking of me. I’ll be sure to return it to you before you leave.”
His brow furrowed. “It tis meant to be a gift, Lady Catherine.”
“Oh,” Catherine was startled by that. He had said borrow, and now she felt off balance. “Well, thank you, then. I’ll treasure it.”
His expression cleared and he smiled. “I hope you do.”
Catherine gave him an uneasy smile and then looked around. “I suppose I should be getting back to my room. Um… good night, Sir Kellan.”
“Good night, Lady Catherine. I hope you sleep well,” he remarked, his eyes still on her.
Catherine gave the table where she’d been working a final glance, picked up her notes and her candle, then headed for the door. She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled before going to her room.
She had to wonder what in the wide world of sports was going on here? Had that really just happened? Was Sir Kellan actually interested in her? Was she wrong about him being a player? Or was he playing a different game altogether? Either way, Catherine was determined to find out.