Page 33 of In Bed with her Highland Foe

As the sound of Laird Shay and Larry’s footsteps disappeared, she waited and then crept out of her hiding place. Burying her fingers in the fur lining of her cloak, she hurried across the garden toward the barracks.

No soldier batted an eyelid as she approached, no one questioned why she was there. Some bowed when they recognized her, smiled, then returned to their duties.

She followed the instructions that had been left by Aaden with Helen about where to find Gilchrist’s chamber. At the back of the barracks, tucked away at the top of a small narrow wooden staircase, she found a large door. She smiled a little when she realized that Gilchrist must have chosen this room for a reason. He would not need to bend down to get into this room.

She tried the door handle, excitement lurching in her stomach when she realized exactly where she was going.

This is Gilchrist’s chamber.

After all the times she had dreamt of knowing this room, of being led in there by Gilchrist, it was now strangely about to come true, though in an entirely different way than she had imagined. Her nerves made her palms clammy, and she held the door at an angle, not opening it quite fully yet.

Quietly, with the tiniest of meows, a black kitten shot through the gap and across the landing.

“Nay,” Kyven muttered as the cat shot down the staircase, disappearing fast. “Nay!” She launched herself after it, running down the stairs. What sort of impression would she make on Gilchrist if she lost his cat when she was supposed to be taking care of it?

In the corridor, more soldiers were approaching, talking quietly together. Fearing they would see that she had been in Gilchrist’s room, she darted into the nearest dark alcove, pressing herself between racks of swords and the old displays of chain mail that had been worn in battle centuries before.

When the soldiers disappeared down the corridor, she crept out again, looking around the room in panic.

“Kitty?” she whispered, searching around the small armory room for her, though there was no meow in reply. “Sir Meows-a-Lot?” She couldn’t stop herself smiling at the ridiculous name.

Something moved in the corner of the room, like a darting shadow, and she launched herself toward it.

The kitten tried to dart between her hands, but she was too slow on this occasion. Kyven was able to pick her up, watching as the kitten wriggled madly.

“I see ye are mischievous indeed,” she observed. “Aaden wasnae wrong about ye.” Playfully, the cat tried to nip her finger. She giggled at the fire in the cat. “I ken, little thing. Sometimes, I want tae lash out at the world too, but me nips have nay bite tae them.”

The cat grew limp in her hands, looking up at Kyven with big eyes that melted her heart.

“Ah, damn. I cannae be angry at ye fer yer escape. Come, let’s get ye back tae yer chamber. Before I’m seen sneaking intae his room.”

She hurried back up the staircase, being careful to hold tightly on to the kitten now. Once they were in Gilchrist’s chamber, she shut the door and placed the cat down on the floor. The kitten meowed, then darted off across the chamber, jumping onto a chair and then onto a table, where she lapped at a small bowl of water.

Kyven’s gaze left the cat as she looked around the room.

“Goodness,” she whispered, admiring it in every way.

Captain Gilchrist’s chamber was neat. Everything there had its place, and like his appearance, this room was much the same, orderly and precise.

Slowly, Kyven wandered around, her curiosity getting the better of her.

The bed was laid neatly, the coffers closed, and scarcely any sign of a personal item around the room at all, apart from the cat. She stroked the kitten as she passed her, who purred in response.

“What a fine room, eh?” she whispered to the kitten, who meowed as if in agreement.

Behind this table, stacked up on the floor, was the only slightly messy corner in the room. It was a stack of books, much like the ones he read through so fast when they were in the library together. These were laid neatly, their edges all aligned, but on the floor they were a little out of place.

“He needs somewhere nice tae put them, does he nae?” she asked the cat, who purred a little more. “A cupboard or a table. Perhaps I could find one for him.”

The cat purred again.

Kyven moved toward the bed. Something in her own chest seemed to purr at the sight of the bed. This was the place where Gilchrist laid his head every day, where he slept, perhaps sometimes wearing nothing at all. The image of Gilchrist completely bare made her mouth dry, and when the door opened, she jumped out of her skin.

“Kyven?” Gilchrist said, standing in the doorway.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Shut the door!” Kyven hissed at him in panic.