Kade seemed equally surprised by my quick, decisive answer. His eyes watched my eyes and contemplated my face for a minute or more. “You’ve surprised us all, with your bold escape from Ogilvie and the way you strode into our keep to alert us to Wilkie’s whereabouts when he was injured. It was a courageous act and one that probably saved Wilkie’s life. We are indebted to you. But we are also trying to figure out how to handle a complex situation. ’Tis a decision that will need to be made soon.”
I didn’t need to ask him the details surrounding the decision he spoke of, and he didn’t offer them. “I’ll do whatever Wilkie asks of me,” I said. “I love him.”
Kade’s concentration of my face deepened and his light blue eyes rounded just slightly. Then his expression softened, and a hint of a smile played at the corner of his lips. And in this brief respite from his total fierceness, he looked kinder and more handsome than I had yet seen him, as though a cloud had moved away from the sun and deeper layers of Kade’s humanness had finally been allowed to shine through. “You won’t be sent away. Not now. Not yet. Knox would prefer that youweresent away, as your presence here is compromising Wilkie’s resolve in certain directions, as you may already know. But Wilkie would seek you out and follow you, possibly putting his own life in danger to do it.”
“I would never want him to put himself at risk for me.”
“When it comes to you, lass, it seems that Wilkie will not be reasoned with, and it is more than obvious that if you are put in danger, Wilkie will come toyour assistance at whatever cost. And I can’t say that I blame him.” Kade’s last statement caught me off guard in its subtle but clear lightness. If I didn’t know better, I might have thought that Kade was complimenting me.
But then his smile faded completely, and his manner became serious. “I will ask you this, Roses—are your intentions true?”
I couldn’t be sure: I didn’t know much about Kade at all, beyond his dedication to his profession and his closeness to his own family, but I suspected he was weighing up a decision. And I had a distinct feeling that whatever answer I gave him now would play a part in that decision. This searching earnestness in him and his obvious concern for his brother made me feel inclined to choose my words carefully and give him every honesty. “I—I have no intentions, Kade, beyond being with him, and doing whatever he asks of me. My love for him has become the truest part of me.”
Kade absorbed my answer thoughtfully and said nothing more.
Wilkie returned to us then, and he noticed the edgy and lingering intensity of whatever had taken place. “What’s this?” Wilkie asked, looking at me, then at Kade, then back at me. Wilkie’s question was left unanswered, and he was distracted enough by his task of strapping my belt around my waist. It felt strange to see it again: a tool belt for a different time and place altogether. Even stranger was its worn contrast against the gown I wore. But Wilkie stood back to admire it, as though he found the weapons and the finery a good match.
Kade watched Wilkie step forward to tuck a loose strand of my hair back into place with the gentlest touch,then glide his thumb absentmindedly over the wing of my eyebrow.
And with a slight squint of Kade’s eyes and the sudden set of his expression, I watched whatever decision he was contemplating click into place.
“I’ll leave you two to your sparring,” he said, walking away into a dust-flicked distance.
* * *
WILKIEKEPTMEWITHhim all day. I was given a much more cautious lesson, using my smaller sword, until Kade, disgusted, declared Wilkie’s instruction all but useless. I was allowed to watch them as they sharpened, discussed and organized the swords, spears and many other weapons housed in one of several armories. And I watched him, never tiring of his voice, the span of his broad shoulders, the easy, rugged grace of him.
I knew, and Wilkie knew, each time he caught my eye, that our connection had fired and set like the steely, permanent solidity of the swords he worked. Yet he was honor-bound to follow the path that would be chosen for him. Kade’s quiet conversation had not given me peace. Quite the opposite. Time was running out. I knew not what decisions the coming days would bring, but I knew those decisions would very likely break me. For now, though, I let the nearness of him cling to me and shield me, steeping me in a small window of true happiness. And I was, in that draining moment, content.
* * *
INTHEEVENING, WILKIEtook me to a wondrous place. The library. Nestled away in the back of the manor, it was a large chamber with tall windows and the old, musty scent of knowledge and history. The walls were lined with shelves that displayed not only books butexotic trinkets and artifacts, the likes of which I had never seen.
I touched my finger to a patterned gold coin. I had never imagined such intricate metalwork, gleaming as it did with shiny golden opulence.
“Pick it up, if you like,” Wilkie said. “My uncle brought it back from Rome when he traveled there many years ago.”
“Rome,” I repeated, fingering the coin, enjoying its solidity. I had never heard of such a place. I liked the sound of its name.
“’Tis a most fascinating city,” he said.
“Have you been to Rome, warrior?”
“Aye. My uncle took my brothers and I on a trek through Europe when I was sixteen. My father considered it important for us to see the world beyond Scotland. We traveled for almost three years.”
I had barely contemplated the world beyond Edinburgh, a place I had never been and didn’t expect to see in my lifetime. I knew only vaguely of the place names of the lower British Isles, from maps of Laird Ogilvie’s. I had heard of York and, of course, London, which I thought must be the largest city in the world. But these were not destinations I would ever see. I had little need to consider their cultures or people, when they were so far beyond my scope.
Wilkie laid a sheet of parchment on the table and retrieved a small box from a shelf, which he placed next to the parchment.
“Are you ready?” he asked. He lit several oil lanterns and a number of candles. The oily reek of the lamps and the honeyed scent of the beeswax mingled in the soft-lit night. His blue eyes were light tonight. Hepulled out one of two high-backed chairs at the table for me to sit on.
I sat, and Wilkie sat in the other chair, pulling his chair close so his warm thigh was resting against mine.
“Where did your mother’s lessons leave off?” he asked. “Did you learn the letters of the alphabet?” Wilkie uncorked the small glass inkpot, dipping the pointed end of the feather quill into it, swirling lightly.
I thought about this as I watched him prepare his quill. I remembered some of the letters. “I rememberA, BandC. AndR. AndO.”
“’Tis a good start,” he said. “There are twenty-six letters. And each one has two forms: big and small.”
