Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“ K athleen?” a booming voice called from the other side of the door. “Kathleen? Are ye in there?”
Kathleen instantly recognized it. She had been hearing the very same voice all her life, and more often than not, it carried the same stern tone, the same urgency.
Faither?
She jumped out of bed but then froze, her heart leaping to her throat at the realization that her father was right there and there was nothing separating them but the door. Her stomach churned and her hands trembled. If he entered the room, if he saw Blaine there with her—she couldn’t imagine what would happen .
He’ll have me head.
He’ll have his head!
The former was likely; the latter was certain. Dread crept like ice through her veins and no matter how much she tried to force her limbs to move, they simply would not obey. There was nothing she could do but stand there, watching the door as it rattled with every knock dealt upon the wood in horror.
A firm, warm hand closed over her shoulder—Blaine. Kathleen turned to look at him and was momentarily stunned by how pallid he was, his face a pale shade of yellow under the light of the candles that burned in the room. Before she knew it, he was shoving her clothes into her hands and mouthing silently at her, “Speak!”
“Um… one moment!” Kathleen called to her father, Blaine’s urging finally forcing her into motion. “I just came out o’ the bath, Faither! Allow me tae dress!”
“Ach, alright!” her father called from the other side of the door, and much to her relief, the incessant knocking stopped. That only gave her the illusion of safety, though. Her father was still out there, and Blaine was still in the room.
At least he was getting dressed, shoving his clothes on in a rush—which was more than she could say about herself .
Hopping on one foot as she tried to put on her clothes, Kathleen was quickly covered in a thin sheen of cold sweat, her nerves getting the better of her. Her father was furious for leaving the castle the way she had and he had come to get her.
As she tried to take one slow breath after another, Blaine approached her once more and helped her dress with firm, if not exactly steady, hands. Kathleen allowed it, welcomed it even, considering that she seemed to have lost all function of her hands.
By the time she was dressed, she was only marginally calmer, but she had no choice but to open the door. She couldn’t delay the inevitable forever.
In a panic, she began to shove Blaine around the room, looking for a spot to hide him. The two of them hissed wordlessly at each other, bumping into each other as they rushed around the room, only for him to throw up his hands in exasperation in the end and fall to the floor, shuffling under the bed. It would have to do, Kathleen decided; there was no time for anything else. All she could do was pull the covers down a little to make sure he was completely covered and hope that God would listen to her prayers.
Before throwing the door wide open, she plastered a smile to her lips, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. That smile fell, though, when she saw that it wasn’t only her father who was there, but also her mother, the two of them standing side by side like two unmovable pillars.
“Maither! Ye’re here too?” Kathleen asked. “Why are both ye here?”
“What dae ye think? Ye left without tellin’ us, young lady! And then we received word that ye were in danger,” her father said as he stepped into the room, followed by her mother. “Ye have put all of us in great danger with yer thoughtlessness!” Much to Kathleen’s relief, neither of them seemed to look at the direction of the bed or act like something was wrong. “We had tae ascertain that ye were well.”
“Ach, how can I be in danger in the keep?’ Kathleen asked. “I’m perfectly well! Ye didnae have tae come all the way here.”
Kathleen laughed nervously, but neither her father nor her mother echoed it. Instead, they both pinned her with the same disappointed gaze.
“The fact that ye’re well is a relief, but it doesnae absolve ye o’ what ye’ve done,” her mother said sternly, pursing her lips as she gazed upon Kathleen. “How could ye leave the castle like that? Dae ye nae understand in how much danger ye put yerself? An’ disobeyin’ yer faither! The shame o’ it all! ”
“See how ye’ve upset yer maither?” Kathleen’s father asked, much to her chagrin. “How could ye have done this tae her? She was sick with concern about ye! We all were!”
“But I’m fine,” Kathleen pointed out, opening her arms as if they couldn’t see that she was right there, well and unharmed. “Truly, naethin’ happened tae me. I had help, too, so I wasnae all alone.”
“Aye, I ken all about yer help,” her mother said, but then her father placed a hand on her arm, calming her. Drawing in a breath, her mother pointed an accusatory finger at her. “Ye should be ashamed by yer behavior!” Her mother’s face turned into a stone-cold facade, betraying nothing but her fury and her disappointment.
“If ye could have it yer way, I would never leave the castle again, an’ I cannae live like that!” Kathleen cried. “I told ye Fenella needed me an’ I told ye I wished tae come. Ye could have simply... ye could have simply accompanied me or given me guards if ye were so concerned about me.”
“Or ye could have listened tae us an’ stayed home,” her father pointed out.
“I must sit,” her mother said, suddenly looking faint, and Kathleen watched in horror as her father took her to the bed, helping her sit on the edge of the mattress. They were so close to Blaine now; one wrong move, one cough—it would be all it would take to reveal his presence, and Kathleen had to swallow around the knot in her throat as she forced herself to speak.
“Forgive me,” she said, hoping that an apology would get them both out of the room faster. “Ye’re right. I should’ve kent ye would be worried an’ that ye would be disappointed. An’ aye, it’s true, I didnae realize I would be in so much danger, but I understand now that what I did was wrong an’ I am truly sorry.”
It wasn’t simply a lie to get them out of the room. It was the truth, tumbling unbridled past her lips. After everything she had been through, she could understand now that she had put herself in grave danger. Had she known she would have been attacked, she would have stayed home.
But then, had she stayed home, she would have never met Blaine, and so she couldn’t regret her actions fully. A part of her would always be glad she had snuck out of Moy Hall like that, tossing herself straight into peril without a second thought, if only because it had brought Blaine to her.
Her apology seemed to soften her parents. Her mother took a deep, shaky breath, smoothing her hair over her ear. Her father shook his head, but his shoulders dropped, his stance relaxing .
When her mother stood once more, now calmer, she strode over to Kathleen and pulled her into a fierce embrace, her arms wrapping so tightly around her that she was almost crushed. Kathleen didn’t dare pull back from her, though; she could feel her mother’s fear, her panic, in every tremble of her hands.
“Dinnae think fer a second that I’ll forget about this soon,” her mother said, stern even now. But then, her voice fell into a whisper, a hand coming up to cradle Kathleen’s head. “But I’ll never let anythin’ happen tae ye. Even if I must kill all the Campbell men meself.”
There was no doubt in Kathleen’s mind that her mother could do it if she put her mind to it. She had never seen a more ferocious woman when it came to her family.
“Nay one will lay a hand on ye as long as I live,” her mother continued, finally letting go of her.
And Kathleen could only glance at the bed, at the shadow that shifted right below it.
Blaine could not believe his bad luck.
Out of all the times Kathleen’s parents could have come to her chambers, now was the worst. There was no way out for him; there was no door, no secret passage that he could use to get out of there undetected, and his only hope was that neither her mother nor her father would notice he was hidden under the bed.
Thankfully, the covers made for a good camouflage. Still, the bed stood tall, the gap between the mattress and the floor more than big enough to accommodate him and leave plenty of room over his back, and his heart thundered in his chest as he began to think about all the ways he could be discovered.
Just one careful look was all it would take for his location to be revealed.
He didn’t know which of the Mackintoshes he feared the most—Bran could and would have his head if he discovered him there, lurking under his daughter’s bed. But Blaine had the sneaking suspicion Bran's wife, Ilyssa, would not be satisfied with a simple beheading.
When Ilyssa had gone to sit on the bed, Blaine had shifted uncomfortably, restless underneath the mattress, terrified he would be spotted.
At least Kathleen’s holdin’ it together.
Though she had panicked at first, just like he had, she had managed to calm herself enough to deal with her parents. If either of them suspected anything, they didn’t show it; they only spoke about Kathleen’s disappearance from Moy Hall and the danger in which she had put herself.
By the time the two of them left, Blaine was drenched in cold sweat, his shirt sticking to his back. He didn’t dare crawl out from his hiding spot—not until Kathleen marched over to the bed and threw the covers back, exposing him.
“They’re gone,” she assured him. “Ye can come out.”
Only then did Blaine move, shuffling along the floor to get out of the confines of the small space. Unable to stop himself and his urges, he grabbed Kathleen and pulled her close, pressing a desperate, heated kiss to her lips.
Fear still coursed through him like poison. The tentative peace they had created for themselves in Castle Stalker had now shattered, reality crashing over them both once more. How could he have ever thought everything would work itself out? Bran’s and Ilyssa’s presence only confirmed what he had always known. He and Kathleen could never be together.
“I must go,” he told her, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. He didn’t want to mention this thing between them or how it would all be over soon, but he didn’t think he needed to, either. Kathleen seemed shaken, her fair complexion now even paler, a flash of grief in her eyes as she looked at him. “They… they might come back. ”
“Aye,” was all Kathleen said, nodding slowly. She took Blaine to the door, peeking her head through a small gap to make sure no one was there before she sent him on his way, and he quickly slipped into the chambers next door.
The sound of her door closing was like the sound of the final nail in a coffin.
A knock on his door startled Blaine. He sat in the dark in his room, with nothing but a couple of candles and a small fire in the fireplace to shed light around him, sharpening and oiling his blades as he always did when he needed to think. A single shadow passed by under the gap in his door, and though Blaine had half a mind to ignore the whole thing and sink deeper into the abyss of his fears, he stood with a sigh and opened it.
Bran stood there, pacing back and forth. When he saw Blaine in the dark, he stopped, frowning in a way that reminded Blaine of Kathleen.
“Did I wake ye?” Bran asked.
“Nay, m’laird,” said Blaine, bowing to the man before he let him inside. “I… uh… enjoy sittin’ in the dark. ”
Bran looked at him in confusion, but thankfully made no comment, much to Blaine’s relief. “I see,” he said. “Well, I came tae thank ye fer yer good work. Rest assured ye will be rewarded handsomely fer it.”
Blaine couldn’t imagine what monetary reward could make up for falling for Kathleen and then losing her. Nothing in the world was worth it—not gold, not fame, not even a title. He would have been perfectly content to spend a quiet life with her somewhere in the Highlands, in a small cottage, where no one would ever bother them.
Yet, she was not meant for such a life. She was meant to be behind castle walls, lounging in drawing rooms and feasting with other nobles. A life of hardship would destroy her.
“Thank ye,” Blaine told Bran. “But I was only doin’ me job.”
“Was she difficult?’ Bran asked, already fishing in his pocket for gold. “I always feared travelin’ with her. She insists on ridin’ a horse instead o’ a carriage an’ any time somethin’ catches her eye, she must personally examine it.”
Blaine couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he remembered the incident from earlier that day. It had all started because Kathleen had wanted to look at the bunny, and it had ended with them getting covered in mud from head to toe. Unlike her father, Blaine found the whole thing rather endearing, but that was only because he didn’t have to deal with it on a regular basis, he reasoned.
Just as Bran handed him a pouch of gold, the coins jingling in the small bag, there was another knock on the door. It opened before Blaine could even call out to his new visitor to reveal Kathleen, and his heart leapt to his throat as he quickly shoved the pouch in his pocket.
Did she notice? Did she hear the coins?
“Faither?” Kathleen asked with a confused frown. Seeing her father there seemed to have gotten all of her attention, thankfully. “What are ye daein’ here?”
“What are ye daein’ here?” Bran asked her instead of answering. “An’ enterin’ Mr. Farquharson’s chambers without his permission!”
In the dark, Kathleen’s flushed cheeks were almost incandescent. Blaine hoped Bran would blame it on her being scolded, though, rather than an embarrassment brought on by the fact that they had almost been caught.
“Ach, silly me!” said Kathleen, giving them an awkward laugh. “I was in such a rush I didnae wait fer Mr. Farquharson tae respond. ”
Blaine glanced between the two of them, noting the way Bran’s shoulders pulled back, his body rigid and his gaze calculating; and the way Kathleen withered under the scrutiny despite her best efforts. This was going to end in a disaster; there was no escaping it.
“Is there somethin’ ye’d like tae tell Mr. Farquharson?” Bran asked her, and Kathleen hesitated a moment too long.
“I… I only wished tae thank him fer the hunt today,” she mumbled, quiet and uncertain.
“The hunt?” Bran asked, turning to look at Blaine. But as he did, something seemed to catch his gaze right over Blaine’s shoulder, and he swiftly walked past him, heading to the fireplace.
There, on the mantel, lay a blue ribbon. Kathleen had left it behind after the night they had spent together, and Blaine had placed it there to be reminded to return it to her.
He had neglected to do so. How could he have ever predicted that her father would not only go to Castle Stalker, but that he would go to his room and find it? But find it he had, and now he was holding it up between two fingers, recognition settling heavy over him as he turned to face Kathleen .
She looked at her father in terror. There was no hiding from him. There was no pretending, not when her eyes were so wide and brimming with tears, her bottom lip trembling with every breath.
It could be anyone’s ribbon. Why would he assume it’s hers?
“Did ye ken,” Bran asked, and Blaine had the sense he was talking to him, even as he faced Kathleen, “that I bought this fer her when she was a wee lass?”
In the silence that followed, Blaine could hear his own heartbeat, loud as the drums of war.