A Very Highland Holiday - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,120

That’s why I supported them in their endeavors. It gave me a sense of belonging.”

“Of family,” she whispered. “I understand. I don’t have any siblings either.”

“Then of course you understand.” He smiled at her. “Do I get my story now?”

She laughed softy. “Yes, but I do hope you’ll tell me more about yourself. If not now, then…later.” She handed him the papers.

He took them from her, his fingers grazing hers. “Does that mean you forgive me.”

“It means I’m giving you another opportunity.” She gave him a dark, direct stare. “Don’t squander it.”

“I won’t. Not this time.” He touched the papers to his chest. “Thank you.” He rose and she did the same.

“I don’t suppose we’ll be leaving tomorrow,” she said, glancing toward the window, not that she could see anything in the dark night outside. “The snow looked quite thick.”

“I went out not too long ago, and you are correct. If you want to leave, you must do it on horseback or foot. I imagine you have a coach.”

“Yes.” She hesitated to say more, but ultimately said, “I can’t say I’m disappointed for the extra day here. Unless you are on horseback?”

“I am. However, I think I’d rather stay too.” He rattled the papers gently. “As it happens, I have reading to do.” He grinned at her.

She walked with him to the door. “I will hope to see you at breakfast.”

“Count on it. And I mean that most sincerely.” His blue eyes gleamed with promise before she closed the door behind him.

Pressing her back to the wood, Elspeth took a deep breath to try to calm the racing of her heart. Morning couldn’t come soon enough.

Chapter Three

Tavish had arisen early. He wanted to make sure the soldiers left on horseback. Once they were gone, he breathed more easily. Now he could focus on finding Lann Dhearg.

To that end, he went in search of the innkeeper, Mr. Pitagowan, and found him behind the bar in the common room. It was still early, but his daughter was busy preparing the room for breakfast. The innkeeper perched on a stool, his bald pate gleaming as he brushed—brushed?—his full auburn beard.

“Good morning, Mr. Pitagowan,” Tavish said cheerfully, trying not to fixate on the man’s odd behavior. He supposed brushing a beard of that volume was a necessity—Tavish’s hadn’t been that…bushy—but he wondered if there might be a better place to conduct such matters.

“Ye must call me Balthazar,” the innkeeper said as he set his brush beneath the bar. “How did you pass your night, MacLean?”

“Quite well, thank you.” He’d devoured every word of Miss Marshall’s story before seeking his rest. She was as gifted a storyteller in writing as she was in the spoken word, which he’d heard when they’d met. In fact, if not for her storytelling, he might not have stopped and made her acquaintance at all.

Tavish continued, “I hope you won’t mind if I stay another night. I’d rather not travel in the snow.”

Balthazar grunted. “Ye can stay as long as ye like. I’m happy ta take yer money.”

Tavish chuckled. “I won’t be staying indefinitely.” He wanted to get home before the new year. It had been some time since he’d seen his grandmother. As Miss Marshall had pointed out, family was important.

Miss Marshall. If he found Lann Dhearg today, would he still leave tomorrow, knowing he could spend one more day in her company?

“Carrie said ye were from Glasgow. Is that right?”

That was close enough. “Yes.” It was time to obtain the information he needed to track down Lann Dhearg, starting with the man whose brother had seen it at Culloden. “I wonder if you might tell me where I can find one of the men who was here yesterday. We chatted briefly, and I found him quite interesting. He left before we could continue our conversation. Shorter fellow with wide shoulders and brown hair? Perhaps twenty-five years or so?”

Balthazar stroked his impressive—and tidy—beard. “Ye must mean Dougal. Dougal Kerr. Lives in a cottage on the northeast edge of town.”

“By himself?” Tavish liked to know what to expect.

“Now he does. His brother seems to have moved on.” He shook his head sadly.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Tavish said.

Balthazar’s gaze moved past him toward the stairs. He jumped off the stool. “Time for breakfast!” He bustled back toward the kitchen.

Tavish turned to see Miss Marshall step into the common room. Gowned in a blue wool dress, she looked fresh and lovely. She surveyed the surroundings until her gaze found him. Her