But Tess kept coming back. She was sure ofthat.
“Maybe I can convince Robbie to tell me some morestories of the mischief you got into when you were a weebairn.”
“I can save you the trouble.” She moved into hisopen embrace. “I was a perfect child.”
Colin kissed her again. But this time it was only abrush of lips—a teasing growl in her ear—before leading her intothe next section of the keep.
The Great Hall spread across the area between thetwo towers. Two of the people who had greeted them outside cameover now, obviously delighted to see that Tess had stayed.
“I couldn’t let your mistress leave without showingme around this place first.”
Tess was grateful for his explanation and for theway he engaged the old pair by asking a series of questions aboutthe keep itself.
The Great Hall was older than she remembered, andthe years that she’d been away had not helped it at all. A heavyblanket of dirt covered everything. There were birds nesting in therafters and surly dogs eyeing her from dark corners. She glanced atthe long trestle tables. Some of them were overturned and brokenup. She spied the remainder of one in the huge fireplace by thedais.
Suddenly, the noise of the warriors coming back fromdays on the road filled her head—the clatter of dishes—laughter—themusic of pipers. The warm amber light of torches and a log fire. Apiece of her childhood, Tess thought, a fragment of long forgottenyears. She wandered toward the dais.
The woven rushes on the floor were torn and filthyand reeking with disuse. Huge sections were missing completely. Shelooked for the colorful tapestries that once adorned the walls.Most were gone, though the badly tattered remains of one still hungbetween two windows. The Lindsay shield above the hearth wasmissing, too.
A strong draft swept through the room. Tess rubbedher arms to ward off the sudden chill…and then her gaze was drawnto the hearth. In her mind’s eye, she could see herself—a youngchild again—frightened and uncertain. Her nursemaid had forced herto come downstairs and greet her father, who had been away formonths. She drifted into the past.
The large man was pacing impatiently before thehearth. Though he wore no armor, she could see the stains of chainmail and leather clearly inscribed on the padded black tunic. Aknot of fear tightened in her belly.
Sir Stephen Lindsay ceased his pacing as soonas he saw her.
“Tess!” he called out.
The young girl kept her gaze riveted on theman’s heavily stained boots and wondered if the dark patches mighthave been someone’s blood.
“Come closer, child.”
Her feet would not move. Tess saw the laird’sgiant fist open and extend toward her in welcome. She shiveredinvoluntarily at the memory of the stories she’d heard from hermother—stories of the furious killing of hundreds of men by thesesame hands.
“By the saint, my own Tess. Lord, you’ve grown somuch since I last laid eyes on you.”
He came across the rush-strewn floor, andTess’s eyes stung with tears. She had refused to see him the lasttime he’d come to Ravenie Castle, and there had been a price to payfor that. A young dog she had come to care for as her own hadsimply disappeared when the laird had gone back to the wars. Herfather’s punishment for loving an animal better than her own kin.Her mother had told her so.
“I’ve good news for you, Tess.”
She stared at the boots moving closer, andthe tears uncontrollably rolled down her cheeks.
“This time, I’m home to stay for awhile.”
The moment he laid a hand on her shoulder,every inch of the young girl’s body went rigid. She bit her lip tokeep from running.
“What’s wrong, lass?”
He crouched before her, and she glanced upinto his face. She wasn’t prepared for the hurt she saw in thosedark eyes that Elsie said were the exact match of her own.
“Why are you crying?”
Tess winced when she saw his large handcoming at her face. But the gentle brush of a callused thumb acrossher cheek was another surprise.
“I know you have not seen much of me, child. I’vebeen doing the king’s bidding for so long that you have everyreason to think me a stranger. I even have a wee suspicion that youare afraid of me. But I plan to make up for the time we’ve missed,Tess. I am…”
He continued to talk, but the young girl’sattention was fixed on her father’s face. He didn’t seem toofrightening this close. She could smell leather and horses and saltair, and found herself oddly comforted by the scents. And thenthere was his voice, the way he was talking to her now. The gentlehush of it stirred in her mind a memory of a time when she’d beenyounger and he had been around more. She couldn’t remember everbeing terrified of him back then.
From the door of the Great Hall, her mother’sexclamation was sharp “Theresa Catherine!”
