Chapter Twelve #2
Given our history with swords, Wilkie might have expected me to be more practiced than I was, or stronger, or more confident.
In fact, I’d had only occasional, light training, and my recent bouts with bloodshed had left me decidedly queasy.
In fact, standing here like this, face-to-face with him, weapons in hand, it was wildly clear to me that Wilkie outmatched me to such an extent in every aspect of swordsmanship that even playful sparring with him was surprisingly daunting.
Kade had once commented that if Wilkie had intended to kill me that day we’d met at the cave, he would have, and I was sure he was right about that now.
I knew Wilkie wouldn’t hurt me intentionally, but the size and strength of him, his height, his easy hold on the gargantuan weapon: the whole spectacle was making me regret my request.
And his eyes spangled with the challenge, the thrill, as though the feel of a sword in his hands kicked up a spirited natural tendency in him to compete and to win.
“Is this where you exact your revenge on me, warrior?” I said, maybe in response to my own sudden urge to be careful.
He was too big and too lethal to play with in this way.
The last time we’d faced off, we’d almost killed each other.
My survival instincts were recalling that memory and shining a light on it now.
“Don’t be daft, Roses,” he said, but he held his sword higher. “Hold it up, that’s it.”
I did as Wilkie told me to. And I swayed the blade back slightly, to get a feel for its weight and its power. Wilkie touched his sword lightly to mine.
“The gown lends an entirely different sensibility to the lass—especially with sword in hand—than the men’s clothing did,” Kade said blithely.
“Aye, it does,” agreed Wilkie.
“And what sensibility is that?” I asked.
Wilkie gave me a roguish smile. “She’s not nearly as meek and mild as she looks.” His smile widened when I blushed at his insinuation.
Kade chuckled. “I guessed that to be true the very first time she strode into the Kinloch hall, in fact. Very determined, she was.”
“Indeed she is,” Wilkie replied to his brother, then, to me: “Whenever you’re ready, lass. Show me what you’ve got. Give it a good swing.”
I did, egged on by his teasing. But when I swung it back in the direction of Wilkie’s sword, the sheer size and density of it gave it a much fuller, faster momentum than I had anticipated.
My huge, unruly sword clashed with Wilkie’s unflinching blade with such force—steel against fast-held steel—that the impact jolted up my arms, into my shoulders, up my neck, ricocheting through my body in a ferocious bolt.
I felt as though I’d been struck by lightning.
The sound of it thrummed in my ears. I was so shocked by the unexpected force of it that I dropped the sword and stumbled.
Wilkie caught me before I fell, and his sword was some distance away now; he’d flung it as soon as he’d felt my reaction. His face registered confusion, as though he thought me invincible and couldn’t quite fathom my weaknesses.
I was suddenly and fully encompassed in his total embrace. His hands held my face, his eyes searching for signs of pain.
And there was pain. A physical ache in my chest at the sight of him and his heartbreakingly compassionate reaction to me.
He acted as if he was the one who’d been hit—as though my shock had physically manifested itself in him as much as in me.
That he absorbed so much of my emotion touched me deeply.
He cared for me, I knew that. But this vehemence of his dire, clenching concern was proof again that we were deeply, uncommonly bound.
It had been a long time since anyone had shown any kind of care for me at all, beyond critiquing the end result of my cooking or cleaning duties, or asking why I was late, or disciplining me on a not-yet-completed task.
The extent of Wilkie’s protectiveness lavished my starved soul with the sheer miracle of all he had to give, like a flood where before there had been a small and single raindrop.
“What’s happened, lass?”
“I’m all right, warrior,” I said, gasping. “I wasn’t expecting the force of it.”
He set me on my feet and brushed me off.
Kade, I couldn’t help noticing, was watching Wilkie with an intense gaze, as though his brother’s behavior was somewhat fascinating to him. “That sword’s too big for her,” he commented. Aye, it was; that had been well and truly established.
Once Wilkie was satisfied that I was stable enough to stand and walk, he led me over to where Kade stood and sat me onto the log seat.
“What’s this?” asked Kade, feigning mild shock. “No blood? You’re losing your touch, Roses.” He referred, of course, to the growing list of knife attacks I had recently carried out. All in self-defense, I wanted to remind him. But I detected an edge to his playful chiding.
“Where’s Roses’s small sword?” Wilkie asked Kade, ignoring Kade’s comment.
“Inside,” Kade said, indicating the nearest building. “Either hanging on a hook by the furnace, or on one of the workbenches.”
“I’ll get it,” Wilkie said, and walked off, disappearing around the corner of the building.
Once Wilkie was out of sight, Kade turned to me.
His eyes studied me for a moment, coolly noticing my dress and the way my hair was bound.
His arms were still folded across his chest, and he wore only two weapon belts today: fewer than usual.
I thought of the story Wilkie had told me, of their mother’s praise, of Kade as a young boy and his desire to impress her.
As I pictured the image, I felt my perpetual unease in Kade’s company give way, just slightly.
“If Wilkie ordered you to be escorted to Macduff’s,” he said evenly, “would you leave willingly?”
His words might have renewed my reserve, but they were spoken with quiet, sincere curiosity.
I was surprised by his question, at the directness of it.
But not, as it sank in, by the topic itself.
Wilkie had told me himself that he was making waves in his own diplomacy and obedience by keeping me so close to him, especially as plans for his marriage were already well underway.
I knew the story. I knew the laird’s intentions and the reasons behind them.
And I knew how closely Wilkie held his duty to his heart.
Kade’s question, to be sure, caused my own heart to skip a beat, but I didn’t hesitate.
“Aye,” I said, and I worked hard to keep my voice steady. “Of course.”
Kade seemed equally surprised by my quick, decisive answer.
His eyes watched my eyes and contemplated my face for a minute or more.
“You’ve surprised us all, with your bold escape from Ogilvie and the way you strode into our keep to alert us to Wilkie’s whereabouts when he was injured.
It was a courageous act and one that probably saved Wilkie’s life.
We are indebted to you. But we are also trying to figure out how to handle a complex situation.
’Tis a decision that will need to be made soon. ”
I didn’t need to ask him the details surrounding the decision he spoke of, and he didn’t offer them. “I’ll do whatever Wilkie asks of me,” I said. “I love him.”
Kade’s concentration of my face deepened and his light blue eyes rounded just slightly.
Then his expression softened, and a hint of a smile played at the corner of his lips.
And in this brief respite from his total fierceness, he looked kinder and more handsome than I had yet seen him, as though a cloud had moved away from the sun and deeper layers of Kade’s humanness had finally been allowed to shine through.
“You won’t be sent away. Not now. Not yet.
Knox would prefer that you were sent away, as your presence here is compromising Wilkie’s resolve in certain directions, as you may already know.
But Wilkie would seek you out and follow you, possibly putting his own life in danger to do it. ”
“I would never want him to put himself at risk for me.”
“When it comes to you, lass, it seems that Wilkie will not be reasoned with, and it is more than obvious that if you are put in danger, Wilkie will come to your assistance at whatever cost. And I can’t say that I blame him.
” Kade’s last statement caught me off guard in its subtle but clear lightness.
If I didn’t know better, I might have thought that Kade was complimenting me.
But then his smile faded completely, and his manner became serious. “I will ask you this, Roses—are your intentions true?”
I couldn’t be sure: I didn’t know much about Kade at all, beyond his dedication to his profession and his closeness to his own family, but I suspected he was weighing up a decision.
And I had a distinct feeling that whatever answer I gave him now would play a part in that decision.
This searching earnestness in him and his obvious concern for his brother made me feel inclined to choose my words carefully and give him every honesty.
“I—I have no intentions, Kade, beyond being with him, and doing whatever he asks of me. My love for him has become the truest part of me.”
Kade absorbed my answer thoughtfully and said nothing more.
Wilkie returned to us then, and he noticed the edgy and lingering intensity of whatever had taken place.
“What’s this?” Wilkie asked, looking at me, then at Kade, then back at me.
Wilkie’s question was left unanswered, and he was distracted enough by his task of strapping my belt around my waist. It felt strange to see it again: a tool belt for a different time and place altogether.
Even stranger was its worn contrast against the gown I wore.
But Wilkie stood back to admire it, as though he found the weapons and the finery a good match.
Kade watched Wilkie step forward to tuck a loose strand of my hair back into place with the gentlest touch, then glide his thumb absentmindedly over the wing of my eyebrow.