Beloved Stranger (29 page)

“Where are you going?” Audra said. “I want to go, too.”

“Not this time,” Kimbra said. “We will be gone just a short time. Stay and keep Bear and Geordie company.”

Audra’s lip went out in disappointment, but she turned and went into the cottage, her small back stiff with indignation.

He led the hobbler inside his stall and unsaddled him. Then he joined her. She gave him two buckets, and she took two herself, then they walked together to the stream, which flowed from the waterfall she and Audra loved.

When they reached it, he stooped and washed his hands in the water, then turned to her. “I am not sure I can leave, lass.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Many reasons. But mostly because I feel I belong here. And we have not finished your reading lessons, or Audra’s lute lessons.”

“Neither are worth your life.”

“No one has suspected anything.”

“One has.”

He stilled. “Who?”

“Geordie. He suspects you are not what you say.”

“He just suspects?”

“Aye, but I know him. He will keep looking for oddities. Small things that might give you away. He can be like a dog with a bone.”

The Scot looked at her. “You and Audra can go to Scotland with me.”

He had mentioned that before. But it was impossible, no matter how wondrous it sounded. She wanted it. Dear God, how she wanted it. But she had a daughter, and he might well be wed and have a family of his own. Then where would she and Audra be?

He took off his doublet, then his shirt and rinsed the blood from them. She stood back and studied him. She had thought him too lean, but now she noticed the muscles. The new scars on his body contrasted with the older one. Both rippled as he moved.

He was incredibly attractive to her, especially when he turned those brilliant blue eyes on her.

“How did you kill the boar?”

“An arrow.”

“The first one?” Somehow she knew the answer before he opened his mouth.

He hesitated, then said, “Aye.”

Any other man she knew would not have hesitated. They would claim the first arrow regardless of whether it was or wasn’t. It was the Scot’s hesitation that told her it was true. She had never known a man who so hated to claim competence.

She knew how difficult it was to kill a wild boar. He was truly a warrior despite the gentle qualities she saw in him.

“Have you had more memories?”

“They come rapidly now.”

“But no name.”

“Nay.”

This time she heard real regret. He was beginning now to feel emotions from the past. Despite his insistence that this was home, she detected the seed of longing in him. Not only longing, but a need to know.

“Go,” she said.

His arm tightened around her. “I want to stay, but it would not be fair. Not to either of us. I must return to Scotland. I have to know who and what I was.”

“Aye,” she replied.

“I will be back,” he said.

She leaned her head against his chest. She realized that he’d been struggling with himself as to whether he really wanted to return home.

“You were right. There are things I must know.” He hesitated. “I think there are painful things. I cannot ask you to wait.”

She was silent. She hoped her eyes did not tell him she would wait forever. That was her secret.

His gaze studied her. “You said something once about words.
Virtue Mine Honour.
It keeps running over and over again in my mind. It means something. Or I think it should.”

She could not tell him that she had withheld something from him that was so important. He would despise her as the thief she was.

Fear was a terrible thing. She knew that now. It made one do things they would never do otherwise.

She was silent, even though her soul cried against that silence.
Virtue Mine Honour.
She had no honor.

Still fear persevered.

He tightened his arms around her as if sensing the confusion in her.

She wanted to feel his lips, his body against her. She wanted more, much more, but she had just lied to him, at least by omission. She deserved no more.

But then, without invitation, he kissed her, his lips fierce and demanding, and hers equally so.

In seconds they were on the ground, and he was disrobing her, and she him. She knew he was leaving now. She wanted, nay, needed him beyond imagining.

His lips made love to her. Then he entered her, and this time the explosion came quickly.

 
AUDRA finished pounding the herbs into powder and very carefully placed them into small bottles.

Feeling quite abandoned, she went up to the loft and gazed out the window. She could not see her mother or Mr. Howard, but she did see Geordie riding off.

Then he was gone, too. She looked around the loft. It was where she had been told to go if there was immediate danger. She was to get into a small cupboard in a corner. If they had more warning, she and her mother were to go into the woods.

Now, though, she was just sulking. She’d fiercely wanted to go with her mother and Mr. Howard. She did not understand why they did not want her along.

She thought about getting in the cupboard. They would return and not find her, and for a few moments she would become important to them. Mayhap important enough that they would decide they both needed to take care of her.

She needed a father.

She did not remember that much about her own father, and that worried her. She should remember more. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to recall him.

He had been big. And dark. She remembered that. But she could not remember his face, and that made her feel sad and disloyal.

She imagined, though, he was like Robert Howard. She had liked him from the beginning, although she realized there was some mystery about him. But he was kind and never, ever treated her like a baby.

Until just now.

No, she couldn’t hide. Then they really would think she was a baby.

She started to explore, instead. She liked being up here. It was her refuge when she grew lonely. She would gaze out the window and make up tales from the clouds.

She reached under the pallet. She used to have some treasures there. A bead bracelet from a fair. A special stone. A pretty button. She thought they would be safe here. She found the box and opened it, disappointed that the treasures were not as grand as she remembered. Then she saw something caught above in the rope mattress. She reached for it and found it stuck. She tried to work it loose, then triumphantly pulled out a brooch of some kind. The colors were glorious. Red and silver and gold. She handled it carefully because it was so beautiful.

Why was it hidden?

Against raiders,
she thought.

She could not bear to let it go. How had her mother come to have it? There was a wonderful story there. She was sure of it.

Clutching it, she climbed back down and placed it on the table.

Then she went outside to wait.

K
IMBRA lay in the Scot’s arms. She wanted never to leave them.

Her body still felt the tremors of lovemaking, but as marvelous as that had been, the tenderness now was even more so.

How could she let him go?

She ran her hand over his good arm, relishing the feel of it. The muscles that contrasted with the soft brush of auburn hair.

She had never known how lovely it was to be still with someone, to understand and communicate without words.

He brushed a curl away from her face and smiled at her. “You get bonnier every day.”

She took his hand and brought it to her lips. She tasted the saltiness of the skin and savored it.

He moved his head slightly, and their eyes locked.

“You told me a little about your mother. Is there any other family?”

“Nay.”

“And her father?”

“A physician. Not like the one here at the Charltons. My mother told me he believed in herbs. He taught her about them, and she taught me.”

“And her mother?”

“She died in childbirth when my mother was eight.” She felt the familiar pang at the thought of a family destroyed.

Now she realized she had never trusted Will as she trusted this man beside her, and that shocked her into silence.

His own quiet silence was more demanding than words.

“And the man who fathered you.”

“There were promises, my mother was in love. An old story. But when she conceived . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“Then what, Kimbra?”

“He did not want a bastard. Neither did his father, the earl. They came one evening and burned the cottage. My grandfather was inside. The earl must have thought she was inside as well, but she and the maid had taken a late walk and lingered to pick mushrooms. They returned to see the cottage ablaze. Her maid knew she was at risk, too. They fled to the border where the maid had family, and my mother worked as a maid.”

“Do you know who he was?”

“Aye. I know the name. Burlington. A very powerful name. She lived in fear until she died. She taught me, though, about plants. She said it would be something I could always use. She used to take me to the gardens at night and tell me about the various plants. After she died I assisted the herb grower when I could.”

“But she did not teach you to read?”

“Nay, she refused to teach me. She feared if anyone knew she could read, it might raise questions and possibly lead the earl to her. A maid did not read books. Neither did a maid’s child. Not without questions.”

“I am sorry,” he said, his finger tracing her cheek.

“’Twas nothing of your doing. She taught me not to trust, especially nobles. And she was terrified of fire. She made me fear it as well.”

“And your husband? Did he know?”

“Nay. He did not care about my past, and I did not wish to burden him with it. I feared he might go after Burlington. And I think he relished taking a wife that was . . . different. He was always the rebel.” She could not help but smile at the remembrance.

“I think I would have liked him,” he said.

“You would have. Everyone did.”

He was silent for a long time, and she feared she had said something wrong, had told too much. She still did not know why she had told him what she had told no other living soul.

“I must go,” she said, but her words were unconvincing, even to herself. “I left Audra in the cottage.” As soon as she said the words, she knew it was even later than she thought. The first shadows of dusk were appearing. Audra would be safe enough. She knew to stay inside the cottage. And now there were two Charltons to look after her.

She stretched with pleasure at the warmth of the afternoon and the rare soft breeze that caressed them. She had finally uttered her darkest secrets to him, and he had not shied away.

He helped her up, then tied the laces of her dress. He had a quiet competence in doing that, just as he had in so many other things.

He kissed her. He had kissed her before. Passionately. Hungrily. Tenderly. But this kiss was different and melted every defense she had. This kiss was love. Promise. A sweetness that made her heart swell because it was understanding as well.

When he finished, he looked at her with the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.

“You know that it does not matter who provided the seed. ’Tis the people who love you that count, and I think your mother loved you very much.”

“I was not that sure,” she said. “At least I was not then. Now I know how difficult it is to raise a child on your own with no protection. She could have abandoned me, or left me at a nunnery. Instead, she chose to keep me.”

“’Tis a fine thing, honor,” he said. “In keeping you, she stayed true to that.”

She knew then she had to tell him about the crest. “Remember when I found you—”

The words broke off as a flock of birds rose into the sky.

“Someone might be coming,” she said.

“We had best return,” he said, his hand back around hers.

She reluctantly agreed. She had never believed in false modesty, or making herself something she was not. But it would not be good for either of them if they were found this way.

How long had they been gone? He quickly pulled on his breeches and boots.

His hair was mussed, and she used her fingers to comb it. Her own was probably a tangle of curls and leaves.

He pulled her hair back and helped put the cap on. Then they brushed the leaves and earth off each other’s clothes.

And grinned at each other like two wayward children caught in mischief.

Tell him.
But it was a special moment with sunlight spilling over them, their bodies glowing with lovemaking and their hands intertwined.

They walked back together. They had left that way. It would seem strange if they did not return together.

Her body hummed, and her heart sang. She chased away the cobwebs of lies. He did care for her. Even possibly loved her. He would understand once she explained. For a few precious seconds, she even believed they could possibly have a future together. Then she shoved that idea away. It was enough to have these moments. She could not be greedy.

Audra sat primly outside. She jumped up as they approached, looking very much like an excited little girl with a secret.

“Look what I found, Mather,” Audra said, almost dancing in her excitement.

“What, love?” Some young animal, she supposed.

Audra took Kimbra’s hand and led her inside to the table, with the Scot behind her.