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“Half brother,” Kendrick said in a bored voice. “And far more trouble than he’s worth. Just got expelled from school, in fact. The good sisters didn’t know what to do with him.”
Donella glared daggers at him.
“He looks the type to give no end of trouble,” Hamish said. “Best give him a wee paddlin’. Spare the rod and spoil the child, my mam used to say.”
Kendrick’s eyes gleamed with unholy mirth. Donella made a silent vow to murder him once she got to safety.
“I’ll be sure to see to that later, Hamish. But our room, if you don’t mind.”
“Right, sir.” Hamish pulled a bottle of ink from a cubbyhole. “If ye’ll just sign here.”
Kendrick signed the ledger.
The porter peered at the signature. “Mr. MacDonald, eh? Well, follow me up, sir.”
Donella forced herself to her feet but then froze, as understandingfinallyblasted through the fog in her brain.
One room. They would be sharingone room.
Kendrick cocked an eyebrow, but she just shook her head. No sane person, especially a farmer of modest means, would book a separate room for his grubby little brother. As shocking and unnerving as it would be to sleep in the same bedroom with him, she’d simply have to manage it.
She trudged down a long hall to the back of the inn. Hamish fumbled with the key, then let them into the room. He quickly lit a fire in the small grate and pulled the chamber pot out from under the high bed. Donella was suddenly riveted by the entirely ordinary pot, which to her addled brain now took on a sinister aspect.
How would she attend to her personal needs with herbrothersharing the room? While she’d experienced some humiliating and terrible things in her life, this was starting to rank fairly close to the top.
“Please bring a pitcher of hot water,” Kendrick said. “We would both like a wash. Oh, and an extra blanket, if possible.”
Again, Hamish regarded Donella with disapproval. “Best not to spoil the lad, if ye ask me. A night sleepin’ on the floor would do him a world o’ good.”
“Why do you think I want the extra blanket?” Kendrick said with a wink.
Donella stuck her tongue out at him.
Hamish tsked and scuttled out, promising to return in a few minutes.
“Was that performance really necessary?” she asked. “You made me sound like a budding criminal.”
Kendrick shrugged. “Hamish was on his way to believing you werenota boy. My little act was necessary to divert his suspicions.”
She still couldn’t help scowling at him. “Then I’ll be sure to look as bratty as possible when he returns.”
“Actually, I think you’re quite a natural,” he replied with annoying insouciance.
“Now, see here, Mr. Kendrick—”
A knock interrupted her. “Here’s yer blanket, sir,” said Hamish, handing it through the doorway.
“Excellent timing. This little scamp was about to deliver me a rousing scold.”
“Dinna be takin’ lip from the young’uns, sir,” Hamish advised. “A spankin’ is the cure when they get smart with ye.”
“I will take that under advisement,” Kendrick replied, barely repressing his amusement.
It was the dead of the night, they were on the run, and yet the blasted man was apparently enjoying himself. She, however, was tempted to smash the blasted chamber pot over his blasted head.
“The kitchen boy will be up with hot water soon.” Hamish peered around the door at Donella. “And ye best behave yerself, lad, if ye hope to avoid a paddlin’.”
She could only level a ferocious glare.
