walk with her? Did he think that she would marry him and let him take her away, only to leave her in Lochaber with his people when he rode off to knightly duties?
What manner of man was he, exactly?
Thinking again of what he and Ivor had said about St. Andrews, she decided that the information was of no aid to her in figuring out what was going on at Rothiemurchus. They had been boys then, not men involved in dangerous acts.
Both were knights, experienced in battle. And they had met once since St. Andrews under circumstances that kept them from learning each other’s true names.
Her next thought followed easily but startled her so that she could scarcely think beyond it. She could imagine only one event that might have allowed such a meeting, and if it had, no wonder they did not trust her to keep silent.
If they had met in battle and Fin had tried to kill Ivor, or Ivor to kill Fin…
What would her father or mother think of that? Or her grandparents!
But if the two men had forgiven each other…
She tried to think more about that, but her thoughts drifted ahead to the morning walk she would have with Fin. She wondered if he would swim again. That thought stirred the sensations she had felt when he kissed her on the stairs, and she let her thoughts linger again on the image of him walking naked on the shore.
She wondered how it would feel to swim with him, to hug him underwater, to feel his skin all damp and slick, to touch him all over and let him touch her.
Familiar scratching at the door rudely jerked her from her fantasy.
Getting up, she let Boreas into the room, chuckling at the sight of the tiny shadow scrambling onto the landing behind him and dashing after the dog into the room. By the time she had climbed back into bed and blown out her candle, both were lying beside the bed, the dog curled around the kitten, the kitten expressing its satisfaction with a purr much louder than its size seemed to warrant.
Catriona shut her eyes to return to her fantasy only to awaken earlier than usual with a start and an exploding fear that she was late, that Fin would already have gone out and come back in. A look out the window reassured her.
The sky had lightened, but the sun had not peeked over the mountains.
Flinging on her blue kirtle, she decided not to waken Ailvie but whisked her shawl across her shoulders and hurried out to the yard with Boreas and his tiny friend following in their own fashion. They crossed the yard, and when a man-at-arms stepped forward, she said, “Prithee open the gate. I am going for a walk.”
“Aye, sure, m’lady. With all these other louts about, ye should ken that Sir Finlagh be out there somewhere. Likely, he’ll keep an eye to your safety.”
Until he spoke, she had not considered that he might try to stop her, but she knew she ought to have brought Ailvie. Her father would say so. But her grandfather had let her walk outside the wall with Fin, so perhaps Shaw would not object.
Fin was but one man, after all. And she could take care of herself.
Boreas loped past her, and as her gaze followed him, she saw Fin striding toward her. An urge stirred for her to run to him. To stifle it, she reached down for the kitten, but it eluded her grasp and darted madly after the dog.
Grinning, Fin stopped to watch them, and as she approached him, he said, “I have seen odder friends, I expect. But Boreas does seem to take adoration in stride.”
“He does, and at times to the kitten’s grief. It likes to chase his feet and when it darts after his forepaws, it sometimes gets kicked by the hind ones and goes flying.”
“I trust you slept well,” he said.
Remembering her fantasies before she slept and the lingering remnants of at least one dream, she felt heat flood her cheeks as it had the night before.
To divert his attention, lest he ask again about the fire in them, she said, “Did you and Ivor meet in battle, sir? Is that why you would not tell me more about it?”
Fin decided that the lass was either a witch or far too observant and quick-witted for any man’s peace of mind.
That her blushes had made him want to grab her and kiss her