Page 16

When all of the maids had been out, she’d inspected the final thing she could derive any clues from.

Her body.

She’d stripped naked and sat on the bed, looking at everything. She wasn’t a thin woman—there were rolls of fat on her belly, her breasts were full, her thighs were round, her ass was enormous. Was she beautiful? She had no idea.

Was she like this because she liked eating? Because she didn’t move a lot? Or simply because that was who she was?

The questions had made her headache return.

She was blond everywhere. There was a light mole on the right side of her belly, almost horseshoe shaped. Her fingernails and toenails were clipped short, and there was some dirt underneath her fingernails and scrapes on her hands. She looked clean otherwise, although she still would’ve loved a shower. Her hair fell to her shoulder blades. She wished she could see her face, but there were no mirrors.

Again, nothing.

Kate had beaten her hands against the bed in frustration. Then she’d put on her borrowed dress, fallen back into the bed, and cried. Was she really a thief? What was she doing in a place where no one recognized her? Had she been kidnapped, maybe? But why? And wouldn’t the person who’d kidnapped her have showed themselves by now?

Enough! She forced herself to her feet, determined to find the one person who made her feel safe in this place.

Leaving the room, she gingerly made her way down the stairs to the courtyard. She inhaled the sunny air of the castle, the scent a mixture of freshly baked bread, woodsmoke, horses, and wet earth. There was something flowery there, too. Around the courtyard, people were busy carrying baskets with vegetables, heavy sacks, firewood. They stopped and talked to one another. Men with swords and bows strode between the towers and the gates, and she could see some of the archers up on the walls. In one corner of the courtyard, men trained at sword-fighting.

She stopped a man carrying firewood.

“Excuse me, do you know where I can find Ian?”

“Ian?” he said. “Is he a warrior? Warriors are usually on the walls or in the great hall, eating and drinking.”

“Where’s the great hall?”

He pointed at a separate timber building next to the biggest tower.

“Thanks,” she said and went in the direction he’d pointed.

But she didn’t need to go into the hall, because Ian sat on a bench in front. He was pale, forlorn. It broke her heart to see a physically powerful man like him look so lost, his eyes raw.

She came to him. “Ian,” she said, and he blinked, focusing in on her.

“Lass,” he said. “What is it?”

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“I…I need to make arrangements…find Kenneth MacKenzie. My father just died…”

He said it as though he still couldn’t quite believe it. Kate sighed. Something about it felt familiar, as though she, too, knew the experience.

“I’m so sorry, Ian,” she said, covering his hand with hers and squeezing it reassuringly.

He blinked again and nodded, then got to his feet. Ian walked towards the southern tower, and Kate followed him.

“I need to arrange a cart for his body,” Ian said. “I’m taking him home.”

“Oh. You’re leaving?”

“Aye.”

She nodded, hiding her disappointment. She didn’t know him at all, but it felt like she’d be losing the only person who’d cared about her in her life.

The life that she remembered, at least.

“Where are you going?” she asked.