Chapter 8 #2
He knew they sometimes felt small and powerless. Insignificant and unheard. As if their thoughts and hopes and dreams didn’t matter.
But they did matter. They mattered to him.
“I want to understand,” he told her.
“Ye don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
She blinked in surprise, then lowered her gaze. “Ye’ll only think me foolish.”
“Tell me.” He clasped her arm. “I pray you.”
Carenza never let men touch her unbidden. She was skilled at diplomatically ducking away from their attempts. She could peel their fingers off of her person, smiling all the while. Make them feel as if they’d earned her affections even while she sidled out of their reach.
But the Viking’s massive hand wrapped around her arm didn’t feel like a dalliance or an intrusion. It felt curiously like a comfort.
Through his touch, she could feel the warmth of his blood. The strength of his muscles. The sincerity of his words.
She had no desire to wrest free of him.
Indeed, she wanted to tell him her reasons for keeping Hamish, even though she knew he wouldn’t understand.
She gazed at the ground and murmured, “My da means to kill him.”
His thumb rubbed along her arm as he considered his response. “He is…a coo.”
She sighed. She knew that.
“And he’s, what, five, six years old?”
“Six.”
“And your clan,” he ventured, “they have roast for supper, aye?”
She nodded, and her eyes began to fill with tears. She knew he wouldn’t understand. She hardly understood herself.
“And you?” he asked softly. “You eat roast for supper?”
“Aye,” she confessed, sniffling as she spoke her hypocrisy aloud.
“But ’tisn’t Hamish. ’Tisn’t the coo I raised from a calf…
who lays his head upon my lap…and lets me sing him to sleep.
’Tisn’t the beast who comes trottin’ across the field to me when I call.
Who lets me scratch him behind the ears…
and helps me watch o’er the new bairns.”
“He does all that?”
She nodded.
“Ah, my lady,” he said, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. “But I do understand. You have a gentle nature and a kind heart. ’Tis a commendable thing in a person.”
The compassion in his voice was unexpected and moving. Still, she sensed there was a “but” coming. And she refused to be swayed by his sweet words, no matter how comforting or reasonable they seemed.
“But what do you think will—”
Before he could come up with some perfectly convincing counter argument, she seized the front of his plaid in her desperate fists and blurted out, “Ye have to let him go. Hamish saved your life. Ye owe him his.”
Her gesture startled him. His eyes widened as he stared back into hers. Then his gaze drifted toward her lips.
For an instant, she wondered if he meant to kiss her.
Even worse, she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t have welcomed it.
Hew knew, if he stood there another moment, he’d toss all his honorable intentions into the abyss, gather the wet-eyed woman in his arms, and kiss away each and every tear. In this intimate situation, even the beast roaring in his braies didn’t believe him capable of restraint.
But he dared not let that beast have its way. Instead, he had to follow his heart.
Unfortunately, his heart was foolish and weak-willed.
And that was how the next unwise words spilled from his careless lips.
“Fine,” he croaked out. “I’ll do it. I’ll save your coo.”
She let out a soft, grateful cry. The sheer joy that shone in her face was worth the offer he’d made.
At least in the moment. Later he’d have time to regret his promise.
But for now, the way she unfurled and pressed her hands against his chest, the way her mouth fell open in wonder, the way her liquid eyes poured into his with thanks and adoration, she made him feel like her hero.
In the next moment, of course, she grew aware of their improper proximity. She was a titled lady, after all. Her father might guard her with an iron glare. But even without his supervision, she would naturally follow society’s rules.
Except, apparently, when it came to coos.
She took a judicious step backward and lowered her gaze. “My thanks, sir.”
He managed a sickly smile and let out a long breath.
God’s bones. What had he done? This was just the sort of reckless behavior that always got him into trouble.
What was he going to do now?
He had no intention of doing what she wanted most—walking away and letting her continue on her perilous journey alone through the mountains.
And he certainly couldn’t go with her. It was bad enough to confess to reiving cattle. He couldn’t afford to be accused of abducting a noblewoman as well. Not again.
“You need to return to Dunlop,” he told her. “It grows late. Your father will miss you.”
“But Hamish…”
“I’ll take him.”
“Ye don’t know the path or where I was goin’. Ye don’t know Hamish. And he doesn’t know ye. What if ye fall again?”
He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. She wasn’t going to like his answer. Hell, he didn’t like his answer. But it was the only way.
“You—I’m taking back to Dunlop. The coo—I’m taking to the monastery.”
“What? Nay.”
“I’ll keep him safe,” he vowed, wondering how on earth he was going to do that.
“Ye’ll sell him,” she accused.
“Nay, I won’t. I promise.”
“Or ye’ll slaughter and eat him.”
“I told you, I’ll protect him.”
“Ye swear?”
“On my honor.”
“But for how long?”
He didn’t know how to answer that. “It grows late. Let’s chat on the way,” he said, nodding down the trail.
“He’ll need food,” she said, coiling her hand in the coo’s fur to guide him along the path while Hew followed. “The grass at the monastery is nigh gone. So ye’ll have to purchase hay.”
Hew frowned. Purchase hay? Already this was sounding like far more responsibility than he’d anticipated. Not to mention that what went in came out. The abbot certainly wouldn’t put up with a cloister covered in coo shairn.
“I’ll send ye coin for the hay, o’ course,” she assured him. “I can’t imagine ye brought much if ye’re staying at the monastery.”
He grunted.
“Why are ye staying at a monastery?” she asked.
He wasn’t at liberty to say. He’d promised to keep the monastery thefts secret. Instead he told her the first thing that popped into his head. “I’m thinking of…of taking my vows.”
She coughed. Or choked. Or laughed. He wasn’t sure which.
After a long and uncomfortable silence, she finally replied, “Ye should probably tell my father about your vows then. He’s invited ye for Samhain supper, and I fear he has hopes ye will offer to court me.”
Hew suddenly regretted his pathetic lie. On the other hand, he supposed the lie would help him keep his vow of chastity. Besides, it was too late to repair the damage.
They traveled in silence after that, focusing on the dimly lit path.
By the time they descended and emerged upon the field again, the Boyle brothers could be seen snoring away on the hillside, surrounded by the cattle.
By the time they reached the woods at the entrance of Dunlop, Hew figured the visitor had already departed and returned to the monastery.
He nodded toward the castle, whispering, “How will you get back in?”
“I can steal past the guard.”
“He must not be a very good guard.”
“I may have spilled aqua vitae into his beer earlier,” she confessed.
He raised a brow. The lass’s lovely and innocent face clearly concealed a devious mind.
But she instantly turned back into a supplicant angel with guileless eyes, beseeching him, “Pray take good care o’ Hamish.”
He could no more refuse her than he could turn down a challenge to battle. “I will.”
She gave the beast a final squeeze of farewell. Then she glanced at Hew. He wondered if she meant to give him a hug goodbye as well.
But she only nodded. “On the morrow, I’ll send someone to the monastery with coin for his hay.”
Then she whirled away.
“Come along then, Hamish,” Hew said, threading his fingers through the coo’s shaggy hair to guide him down the road.
Each step away from Dunlop was fraught with more misgiving.
As with most of his plans made in the heat of passion, Hew hadn’t thought anything through. He’d only wanted to return the smile to the lass’s face.
Now he was saddled with a huge hulking coo stolen from the local laird. A useless animal he could neither sell nor butcher. A male beast he couldn’t even claim he’d purchased for milk and cheese. Going to a monastery that had no ferme or cattle of its own.
What would he tell the abbot?
Where would he say he got the creature?
Where would he pasture it?
And where would it sleep?
He shivered. As cold as it was, it was tempting to let Hamish curl up with him in his cell.
And not for the first time, he wished he’d taken the coo to Dunlop and brought the lady with him.