William’s men wouldn’t need to be involved in the raid. He almost gasped out his breath of relief. “As ye wish, sire.”
“Aye, ’tis a sound plan.” The king nodded to himself. “Ye may go.”
William bowed to the young king and returned to the inn.
His men filled the tables, working through several rounds of ale before the celebration at the castle. They cheered at his arrival, raising their mugs in the air to welcome him.
One face was missing, however.
Reid shook his head, answering William’s silent question. Kinsey had not yet been down. William climbed the stairs and paused at her door to gently knock. “Kinsey, are ye well?”
The sound of water sloshing came from the other side of the door. “Aye,” she replied. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Ye’ve no’ come down.” He rolled his eyes at himself. He should have just seen to himself and given her more time to clean up. Lasses always took a fair amount of time to ready themselves, especially for a celebration.
No matter how unwarranted it might be.
“I had to take a bath.” There was a small splash, confirming her claim.
Images flashed in his mind then. Kinsey naked, flame-red hair trailing down her lithe body, her pale skin slick with scented water. His ballocks tightened, and his cock began to stiffen. He glanced down the hall to confirm he was alone and adjusted himself, a feat not easily done through a heavy surcoat.
He closed his eyes, banishing her wet, naked body from his mind. Whatever she needed right now, it was not lust.
“I had blood in my hair.” She said it so quietly, he almost didn’t hear her.
That softened his burgeoning arousal. “Do ye need me to send up a maid?”
“Nay.” Her voice was tight. “Please leave me be.”
William backed away. She needed time. That was something he understood.
He said nothing further, leaving her be as she’d asked. But he vowed that if she did not seem recovered by that evening at the castle, he would not let the matter go.
* * *
The revelry in the Great Hall of Edinburgh Castle was tremendous. The castle was grand with tapestries glittering with gilt thread, merry music played by a small band of musicians and trestles laden with more food than they could possibly eat. Salted pork, roasted pheasant, meat pies, vegetables of all kinds, nuts, cheese and pastries.
And all of it turned dry and tasteless on Kinsey’s tongue. She swallowed a mouthful of ale to force a bit of meat pie down her throat.
Duff, who sat to her right and had indulged himself with far too much wine, nudged her elbow. “Eh, Kinsey?”
She smiled so brightly, it exacerbated the hollowness inside her. “Ach, aye,” she agreed without knowing what he was asking.
“I told ye.” Duff’s face lit up, his cheeks flushed from drink and his teeth tinged purple. He slapped his hand on the table and wheezed a laugh.
As soon as the focus was off her, Kinsey dropped the facade and let the smile melt from her lips. She didn’t want to be there. But would being in her room be any better?
An image of the tub flashed in her mind, the water red with the blood she’d washed from her hair. From her hands. She looked down at her palms. They were absent any traces of gore. Her fingers, however, contained flecks of it, clinging to the cuticles of her nails. Blood from the man she’d killed. His face lodged stubbornly in her mind.
Those blue eyes, bulging with surprise, his stare slipping into the distance as his life—
Someone plunked down onto the seat at her left. “Are ye enjoying the feast?”
Sir William tossed her one of his charming grins.
She tried to put on a pleasant smile. “Aye.”
“How did ye find yer food?”
She slid her gaze to her trencher, where the small amount she’d taken had been pushed around the slab of stale bread until it had begun to soak through. “Delicious.”
“Ye enjoyed the two bites ye had?”
She pursed her lips.
He leaned closer, bringing with him that scent that so enticed her, that masculine, warm spice, and spoke in a quiet voice. “Can I be honest with ye?”
He was so near, the heat of his body was evident against her skin. It made her want to nuzzle against the strength of him, to feel his arms embrace her.
She shoved aside that longing. “Of course.”
“I dinna care for raids.” He frowned. “Too many innocents get hurt.”
Kinsey’s heart squeezed at the memory of the woman who had been slain. How many unarmed people were killed without thought or mercy?
“I didn’t know it would be like that,” she admitted.
“I have another confession,” he said.
She looked up at him.
“I dinna like this feast.” He shook his head, and a lock of dark hair fell over his forehead. He brushed it away thoughtlessly. “I dinna like to celebrate what our king forced us to do.”
It wasn’t wise to speak ill of their monarch, especially when he was in the same room, no matter how large it might be. But his candor touched the tender, wounded place inside her.
“I can walk ye back to the inn if ye like,” he offered.
Normally she would refuse with a curt reply. She would assume he might try to take advantage of their time alone with an eager mouth and hands. She would flash her dagger and remind him how she could care for herself.
Of course, that would have been before he’d kissed her.
Before she craved him.
Before she’d killed a man and so desperately needed to forget.
Right now, she didn’t want to be alone. Not at the feast, or on the road walking back, or in her room at the inn, with only a flickering candle to keep away the dark and the
