Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
W ithout her maids to help, Kathleen had taken one look at herself in the looking-glass that stood on top of the washbasin in the room and realized she looked like a mess. There wasn’t much she could do about it; she had never been like those girls who knew how to fix their clothes and hair, how to be proper and presentable without significant help. All her efforts had gone into growing skills like horse riding and beating her cousins in races—drinking or otherwise. Sometimes, she envied those girls who seemed so composed, so well put-together, but she had traded one skill for another.
In the end, she didn’t give it too much thought. She simply followed Blaine outside and watched him as he walked over to the stables to get their horses.
There was a young man there, the stable hand, who seemed closer to her age than Blaine’s. Even though she was too far from them to hear their conversation, Kathleen she could tell there was something strange about it.
Blaine stood there, one hand on the hilt of his sword as the other man stood straight-backed and focused, almost as if on attention. Then there was the way Blaine spoke to him. To Kathleen, it looked like he was a general—like one of her uncle’s men instructing a soldier. And to top it all off, there was a familiarity in the way they spoke to each other, as if they had met before; multiple times, in fact.
She didn’t know what to make of it. If she were to believe what Blaine had told her, then she would have to assume he had no good reason to be so familiar with this man or anyone in these parts. He was a Farquharson, and their lands, though neighboring to her own, were nowhere near this place.
He had made no mention of this inn before, about visiting this place before or having stayed there in the past, and so Kathleen didn’t see how he could have known this man. But there was no doubt in her mind they were familiar with each other. She had no real proof, nothing but a gut feeling, but for her, it was more than enough.
Narrowing her eyes as Blaine approached her with their horses, she tried to decide whether or not she should mention it. On the one hand, perhaps she was overthinking it and Blaine just happened to know the man, and so questioning him would give her an easy answer. On the other, if he was not who he claimed to be, then it was to her best interest to feign ignorance.
The more foolish Blaine thought she was, the better.
Kathleen jumped onto her horse, still torn. Slowly, the two of them made their way back to the main road under a gray sky, Kathleen’s wool cloak billowing behind her as they rode. It was a chilly day, the kind that made her wish she could stay in a warm room with a fire and a cup of wine instead of being out there, at the mercy of the natural elements. And yet she pushed forward, never once complaining about the cold.
As much as she could handle the cold, though, she couldn’t handle her curiosity. She needed to know the truth. As Blaine fell into step next to her, she turned to him, her eyes scanning him carefully.
“How dae ye ken this area so well?” she asked. “Ye seem tae ken a lot more than a traveler would.”
Blaine eyed Kathleen from the corner of his eye, staying silent for a time. Then, all he said was, “The more ye travel, the more ye realize all places are the same.”
Kathleen couldn’t help but think this was not the truth. It was just a way for him to avoid the question, to give her an answer that was really no answer at all .
“Surely, that cannae be right,” she said. “I havenae visited as many places as ye, but even I can tell ye that there are big differences.”
“We’re in the Highlands, lass,” said Blaine with a sigh. “Everythin’ truly daes look the same.”
Once again, Kathleen had to disagree, but she doubted she would get anywhere by doing so. Instead, she asked, “An’ that man? Dae ye ken him?”
“What man?”
“The stable hand,” Kathleen clarified. “Ye seemed tae ken who he was. An’ he seemed tae ken ye.”
“I dinnae ken what it is ye’re insinuating’,” said Blaine flatly.
“I’m nae insinuatin’ anythin’,” said Kathleen with all the patience she could muster. “I am only askin’ how ye ken him.”
Blaine brought his horse to a sudden halt and Kathleen only managed to stop hers after a few paces. When she glanced at Blaine over her shoulder, she found him gripping the reins so tightly that the leather must have cut tight into his palms .
“I dinnae ken him,” he insisted. “But after ye spend long enough travellin’, ye learn plenty o’ things. When ye have tae survive out here, ye learn how tae adapt, how tae act, how tae speak. So be glad ye have me with ye, otherwise who kens what may have happened tae ye?”
It was hardly an answer. Not only that, but Blaine had managed to anger her, too, by implying she would not have made it on her own out there without him. The attack by the Campbell men may have proven him right; perhaps if Blaine hadn’t been there, Kathleen wouldn’t be alive. But apart from that, nothing else had happened to her until then and she wasn’t going to take any more chances. She would do her best to keep herself safe from then, without needing to rely on anyone else—not even Blaine.
For a while, neither of them spoke, as neither was willing to. Kathleen was sure that Blaine could spend the rest of their journey without speaking a single word out loud, but then he surprised her by breaking the silence.
“Ye dinnae seem like the kind o’ lass who enjoys embroidery an’ paintin’,” he said.
Is this his attempt at socializin’ ?
It was a poor attempt, but Kathleen appreciated it, if only because he was trying, at least, to bridge the gap between them. In the short time she had known him, Blaine had refused to say anything more than absolutely necessary, and now that he was asking her a question, she could hardly believe it, but was also glad for it. Even if his efforts were a little awkward.
“I’ve never been the kind o’ lass tae sit in a room an’ embroider,” she said with a small smirk. “I would much rather be out here, ridin’ or runnin’ or even climbin’ trees. Nae one has managed tae tame me… nae even me faither.”
Scoffing, Blaine said, “Nay one has tamed ye because ye’ve never met someone who could.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Kathleen bristled, the blood rushing to her head and heating her cheeks with anger. Many had underestimated her before, but none as openly or as rudely as Blaine, and she was determined to prove him wrong.
With one last look at him, she tightened her grip on the reins and urged her horse forward, racing ahead at full speed. The wind whipped her face, her surroundings whizzing past her at a dizzying speed. Her horse was fast. She had chosen the mare specifically for her speed and she didn’t disappoint.
Behind her, Blaine cursed loudly as he followed her. The hooves of his horse thundered against the ground, joining the cacophony of sounds that assaulted Kathleen’s ears—the howl of the wind, the hooves of her mare. He must have been furious with her, thinking her childish and foolish for doing something so dangerous, but Kathleen couldn’t bring herself to care. For the first time ever since leaving home, she was enjoying herself.
She felt truly free.
On the long, narrow road, Blaine chased her at full speed and Kathleen had no intention of slowing down. She liked pushing him. She liked the thought that this man, so unaffected and so stoic, could be pushed to his limits.
But as she glanced at him over her shoulder, she found that he was already gaining on her, catching up if not with ease, then without too much trouble. He moved with precision, like only a skilled rider could. Kathleen was a skilled rider herself, and so she could recognize that in him, this innate talent that gave him an edge.
When he caught up with her, Kathleen expected him to yell at her, to force her to stop, to do anything other than keep up with her pace, the two of them riding side by side. There was no smile on his lips; as always, he was serious, betraying no hint that he was enjoying this race. And yet, there was something in his gaze that told Kathleen he was. There was a certain kind of spark, something she hadn’t seen in him before .
As she gazed at him, she couldn’t help but think how handsome he was when he was not frowning.
The realization brought her to a sudden halt, and she quickly pulled her horse to a stop, stunned by her own thoughts. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably, reality crashing in like a wave and leaving her breathless and embarrassed.
She was a young woman and she was no stranger to desire – intense, unbridled, unmistakable.
And inconvenient. If Kathleen had to spend the rest of the journey near Blaine, then she couldn’t be thinking about him like this. She already knew that her fate would be similar to Fenella’s. One day, probably soon, her parents would choose a man for her, no matter how much the thought may appall her. And said man would not be Blaine or anyone like him.
“Everythin’ alright?” he asked, and though Kathleen could tell he wanted to prod, she was glad that he didn’t push. Unlike her, Blaine seemed to know his limits and when to stop.
“Aye,” she said with a firm nod. “Let us go.”
Once again, Blaine fell into step next to her, the two of them riding side by side down the path. Kathleen’s heart was still beating wildly, threatening to jump right out of her throat. It was the proximity, the knowledge that he was right there, within arm’s reach. But despite her doubts and fears, this proximity was also what reassured her. With Blaine by her side, she felt safer, protected. Had she been alone, she would be looking over her shoulder constantly, waiting for the moment someone would attack her, even if there were no clear signs of danger.
She didn’t know how Blaine did it. She didn’t know how he could spend all his waking hours looking over his shoulder, eyes tracking every movement those around him made.
But Blaine was strong, skilled, capable. He was the kind of steady presence that Kathleen could lean on. So far, he had shown her nothing but respect, giving her all the space she had demanded without much protest. What he had told her the previous day was true; he could have easily forced himself on her, taking advantage of her if he wished and yet he had saved her from other men who wanted that exact thing.
The only reason Kathleen still didn’t trust him fully was that Blaine was hiding something from her, even if she couldn’t even begin to imagine what that could be. Trusting him blindly and readily would only be a foolish mistake.
Nevertheless, she trusted him enough to keep her safe. She trusted that he wouldn’t hurt her. He was much like her horse—dependable and steadfast, though both of them did not quite communicate with words .
And yet her horse decided that was the precise moment it would betray her. With a neigh and a buck, Kathleen found herself thrown off her saddle, flying through the morning air.