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Cadha reached out and squeezed her elbow. “Well, aren’t ye a dearie! Thank ye, lass. And dinna fash, ’tis only us four ye’ll be cooking for—the lord, ye, Manning, and me. Mayhap the lord will have occasional guests. I take care of the chickens and the cows. There’s a groom and a shepherd who come from the village. So ’tis just us.”

She sighed again, then quickly narrowed her eyes.

“Do ye think ye’re marrit? Have any bairns?”

The earlier kiss with Ian consumed Kate’s mind, the heat of his body, the soft and delicious feel of his lips against hers. God, what if she were married? Kate blushed. She had no way of knowing, but something within her told her she was not.

“I don’t think so.”

“Aye. Good,” Cadha said with a satisfied smile.

But why it was good, she didn’t explain.

Chapter 10

Ian stared at Kate’s meat pie in front of him. It was just him and the pie in the dusty great hall. Cadha had served him his dinner.

Not Kate.

He supposed it was Cadha’s task, after all, as the housekeeper, not a cook’s. But he wanted to see Kate.

He couldn’t put the kiss from earlier today out of his mind. Her warmth, her softness, the luscious taste of her, the feel of her body—pliable and strong at the same time…

But there was more. She was a mystery. A beautiful, broken mystery.

And he knew what broken was.

Ian took the pie and bit into it, closing his eyes to shut out the devastating loneliness of the dirty, empty great hall. The stone walls pressed in on him.

He remembered last time he’d been here. His father had held a gathering of his clansmen, tenants, tacksmen, and friends. It was after they’d freed Marjorie and Ian had returned home with the clansmen who’d participated in the battle. There were the heraldic sigils of the Cambel clan on the walls, the chatter, the feast to celebrate their victory. His father had been less mournful than usual. The hall had been lit with candles. A lyre played and people sang. Then men had fought, which often happened after a few cups of uisge.

Did Ian want the great hall to ring with life like that again?

No. He couldn’t face his father’s people, look them in the eye and have them swear an oath of allegiance to him.

Not when he didn’t have any intention of fighting anymore. Not when all he wanted was to be left alone.

But whether he wanted to or not, he’d need to face the people of his lands.

Because there was still one thing he owed his father’s memory.

He shoved the last piece of the pie into his mouth and was about to stand up and find Kate when he heard footsteps from the hallway.

“Kate?” he called.

The steps halted, then she walked in, and he swore the dim room became brighter.

“Yes?” she said.

She wasn’t smiling. In fact, her face was tense, her eyes distant. He hated that it was probably because of how he’d stopped and withdrawn from their kiss.

“Come, sit.” He gestured at the chair next to him. “Please.”

She hesitated for a moment, then sat by his side.

“Everything all right?” she asked.

“Aye, aye. The pie is…” He made an awkward gesture to describe how delicious it was, but the words stuck in his throat.