Once Upon a Plaid Read Free

her skin. “Thank ye, Will.”
    “I have somewhat else with me that’s yours as well.”
    She knew better than to ask him what that might be. His dark eyes were speaking for him. Will could be silver-tongued when he wished to be, and she couldn’t bear to hear his protestations of love. Anything he said would ring false. She could endure much, but she drew the line at untruths.
    “I suppose ye’ll be wanting to refresh yourself after your journey.” Normally, Margaret served as chatelaine since she was married to Katherine’s brother. It was her place to cater to the needs of guests, but since Margie was in the final days of her confinement, Katherine had taken over those duties when she arrived at Glengarry Castle two days ago. “I’ll show ye to your chamber.”
    “So long as it’s also your chamber,” William said, shifting his oilskin pack on his shoulder. “Or has it slipped your mind that ye’re my wife?”

O, yonder she’s comin’, over yon lea.
With many a fine tale unto thee,
An’ she’s gotten a baby on her knee
And another one comin’ home.
    —From “The Gaberlunzie Man”
     
     
    “Dinna this song make ye wonder where she got those bairns? Sounds as if she picked ’em up along the hedgerows, does it not? O’ course, I hear tell that’s where quite a few of ’em get their start.”
    —An observation from Nab,
fool to the Earl of Glengarry
    Chapter Two
    “Nay, what’s between you and me is topmost on my mind,” Kat said. “Though I rather think ye’ve not given it much thought of late. In fact, I’m surprised ye noticed I was gone.”
    William kept his expression carefully neutral. She was right. It had been a day and a half before he realized she’d absented herself from Badenoch Castle. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
    “Aye. Just in time for the goose and trimmings.” One of her russet brows cocked up.
    William wished he could smooth down that brow, but she’d probably bat his hand away. She’d pushed him away for weeks. “D’ye really want to have this argument in your father’s hall before God and everybody?”
    Katherine’s lips tightened into a thin line. She liberated a candle from one of the sconces and led the way out of the great hall. She didn’t say a word as she preceded him up the twisting spiral staircase that exclusively served the family portion of the castle. But her hips twitched with each step, warming Will more than the fire in the great hall ever would.
    Yet if she turned around, my darling wife’s frown would freeze me quicker than the north wind.
    William had to half stoop as he ascended behind her. Even then he nearly smacked his forehead on the lintel each time they passed through a corner of a room and reentered the private stairs.
    The family chambers were stacked one upon another on succeeding levels of the tower, all joined to the same twisting staircase. They passed through Lord Glengarry’s spartan room first. After Katherine’s mother had died, the earl had removed all hint of feminine frippery from his chamber, content with only the most basic of necessities—a comfortable bed, a chest for his clothing, and a larger one for his weapons. His only extravagance was the private garderobe, where he could bathe in a copper hip bath on occasion and use the latrine built into the castle wall.
    The next chamber up belonged to Donald, Lord Glengarry’s heir and Kat’s only brother. He obviously shared it with his wife, Margaret, because the walls were covered with tapestries and the space was crammed with furniture in the heavy new Tudor style. The pads on the kneeling bench of the prie-dieu in the corner were deeply indented, proof of Lady Margaret’s piety.
    William was sure Donald spent little time on his knees.
    Finally at the top of the tower, as befitted a daughter of the house, Katherine’s chamber was situated in the most secure place in the keep. It was the room she’d occupied all her life until she became his bride four years