She leaned down and took the cat’s paws.
After a few rounds, she was giggling like nothing was wrong in the world.
“Ye are an excellent dancer.”
“I trust ye arenae speaking to me, lass.”
Skye yelped in alarm, letting Blackberry go, and spinning around.
A man stepped out of the bushes, lifting thin hands in apology. He had deep-sunken eyes, and she estimated that he was around fifty. A flicker of familiarity sparked at the back of her mind, but nothing more came of it.
“Forgive me, I shouldnae have called yelass.” He grimaced. “Ye are Lady Bryden. And I daresay ye daenae remember me.”
Her shoulders sagged a little. “I’m afraid nae, sir.”
“Well, daenae worry about it. The name is Andrew. Andrew Kane.”
“Oh. Ye are a councilman?”
He nodded, his thin lips curling into a smile. “I am thrilled to see ye back, Lady Bryden. I’ll confess, I gave ye up for dead, but I’m pleased to be proved wrong.”
“Well,” she managed, smoothing down her skirts, “I plan on staying nae dead.”
He threw back his head and gave a throaty laugh, surprisingly deep for such a small man. “That’s the spirit! Ye always did bring fire to the keep, and some much-needed fresh ideas.”
Skye offered a smile. “I hope to get right back into the running of the keep. I have so many ideas.”
“Of course ye do. But ye must rest up and heal first, me Lady. We daenae wish to lose ye again. Here—” He extended a bony elbow. “Let me escort ye home.”
She glanced around the undergrowth. Where was Blackberry?
“I planned to walk a wee bit longer.”
He clicked his tongue. “It’s nae safe, me Lady. We cannae risk losing ye again.”
Skye opened her mouth to argue, only to realize that she hadn’t got the strength to argue.
“Very well,” she sighed, placing her hand on his arm. “I suppose I ought to get back.”
“A good choice, me Lady,” Andrew said equably. “A very good choice.”
Of course, she was dancing with the bloodycat.
Evander pulled back from the window, biting back a smile. Below, Skye was jumping about like a lunatic, clutching the cat’spaws. Blackberry’s hind legs remained planted on the ground, as if they really were dancing.
If anybody else tried to dance with that wee monster, she would shred them into pieces,he thought, amused.
A memory stirred: the first time he’d seen her dance with Blackberry. The cat had been much smaller then, a tiny, fluffy kitten, all eyes and fur and those wretched claws.
She was gathering her courage to confront me about me rules.
The thought brought a stabbing ache with it, the memory of all the ridiculous rules he’d insisted on if they were to marry.
“I’m nae yer man-at-arms,” Skye had said brusquely, her chin lifted. “Daenae order me about as if I amyers.”
Oh, but I want ye to be mine,he’d thought, the words a breathy echo in his head.I’d give half the world to make ye mine.
A knock on the door made him flinch.
