The Scot's Secret - Cecelia Mecca Page 0,42

a tale,” she finished.

“I’ll gladly tell Clara, but not Alfred.”

Alex wasn’t sure what had made him say that. The tentative truce between them relied on his relationship with Alfred. But he wanted to know the woman, not the boy she’d posed as for the last six years.

“We shall see.”

And although it was said innocently enough, the slight huskiness to her voice forced Alex to shift in his saddle. It was not a promise that held any more possibilities than a simple conversation, but. . .

They dismounted when the guard called down to them. After a brief exchange of words, the portcullis was lifted and they were admitted into the outer ward. Kenshire Castle boasted more paths and corridors than any castle where Alex had previously stayed. He prepared to be lost once again.

“Good day, my lord. And greetings to you—”

“Alfred,” Clara said.

“We’ve met before.” The steward bowed to Alex. “Under much more. . . “

“Tense circumstances,” Alex finished.

“My lord and lady are taking the midday meal and would be honored if you would join them. Are you hungry, or would you prefer a brief respite first? Oh, and I am the steward here,” he said to Clara. “Peter.”

“A meal would be most welcome,” she said.

This was another thing he loved about Clara. She ate nearly as much as he did. Though she was not thick around the waist, neither did he feel the outline of her bones, something he’d experienced with a few other lasses, who, in his opinion, were simply too thin. Clara’s body, what he’d seen and felt of it, was made perfectly.

They followed Peter through a second gate and the inner ward. Unlike Brockburg, where the buildings were close together, Kenshire was spread out. The small party finally arrived at the main keep, and once they’d relinquished their reins to a stable boy, Peter waved his hands.

“I give you Kenshire Castle.” Clearly he was quite proud of it. And well he should be.

They looked up, the four turrets of the keep towering above them and appearing to skim the clouds. But before they could enter through the doors Peter had just swung open, a woman appeared at the entrance.

“Alex Kerr,” the countess of Kenshire said, her voice firm and strong. “Why does your squire dress as a boy?”

15

C

lara simply stared.

She was quite spectacular in every way. Lady Catrina was certainly lovely, but there was something about the countess that stunned her into silence—and not just her words.

Lady Sara was dressed in purple velvet with a simple string of beads hanging from her waist, and her long sleeves draped low and waved on their own accord when she moved her arms. She stood tall and proud, as if Kenshire was hers, which of course it was. The massive double doors that led to the great hall should have made her appear small, but this confident slip of a woman filled them easily.

And now, with a few simple words, Clara’s secret was out in the open.

“I’m not sure—” Alex began.

“I’ll forgive that you’ve spent the past several nights attempting to keep yourself alive on the road. I’ll even look past the fact that you’re a Scot.”

Clara’s eyes widened until it registered that the countess was teasing Alex.

“But if you think to lie to me before enjoying the hospitality of Kenshire for whatever purpose you’ve come here to serve, then leave the girl and return to Brockburg. If you do so, and stop at Bristol on the way, please tell Catrina I offer greetings and good wishes, of course. I do adore your sister.”

Despite the fact that she just had revealed her secret, Clara immediately wanted to be this woman. She wanted to shed her boy’s clothes, her past, her present, and become. . . well, not the Countess of Kenshire, precisely, but as brash and fearless as the woman who wore that title. Despite the fact that she just outed her.

“I’d not presume to do so, my lady.”

Peter cleared his throat. “Shall we continue the conversation in the hall? Our guests are much in need of sustenance, I suspect.”

Lady Sara turned from them, which was when Clara realized. . . she was pregnant. She was not so far along that it was easy to tell from the front. But from the side, there was no doubt the countess would become a mother.

Although it was easily the grandest great hall Clara had ever seen, it nonetheless possessed a warmth that Brockburg lacked. Every wall was covered with colorful tapestries, the