Now, with a purpose to aid someone, the ache in his chest diminished. He only hoped the lass was all right.
Chapter 3
She opened her eyes and immediately regretted it. Pain split her skull in two. She moaned and touched her head. Bandage.
She lay in a room with round stone walls. A simple slit window let daylight in. She turned and saw that there were more beds, some chests by the walls. Everything looked massive, heavy…
The word “medieval” came to mind.
Where was she? How had she gotten here?
She half rose on her elbows, wincing at the aches in every part of her body. Her head spun and nausea rose in her stomach. She thought she was going to be sick, but thankfully it passed.
Did she remember anything at all?
Her head was empty. A gauzy curtain seemed to hang around her mind. She knew something was behind that curtain, but she couldn’t seem to reach out and pull it away.
Someone entered—a man. A tall, gorgeous red-haired man in a knee-length tunic belted over narrow, woolen pants, a sword on his back. His hair was cropped short, and he had intense but kind brown eyes. His skin was tanned, as though he spent hours outdoors.
Something about him was familiar; although, she was sure she’d never seen him in her life.
“May I come in, lass?” he asked.
The sound of his voice was deep, melodic, and very pleasant. She nodded. He came in and sat on the bed next to hers.
“How are ye feeling?” he said.
“I—my head is killing me. Do you know what happened to me?”
“Nae. I found ye in the cellar, looks like ye’ve taken a fall.”
“Oh.” She touched her head again and winced. “Yeah, that sounds about right. I don’t remember…”
“Ye dinna remember how ye fell?”
“No. Actually, I don’t remember anything.”
He frowned, studying her. “Even yer name?”
She shook her head, a cold wave of fear sweeping over her. She didn’t even know who she was.
“Come, lass. What’s yer name?”
“Kate,” she said.
Her hand shot to her mouth.
“Oh! I remembered my name! Kate. Yes, I think it’s Kate.”
“Kate,” he murmured. “A bonnie name. My name is Ian.”
“And you don’t know me at all?” she asked.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Nae, lass, I’m sorry.”
“Someone must know me.”
“Do ye work here as a maid? None of the maids recognized ye, but mayhap ye were new and the steward just hired ye.”
She shrugged. Something about it didn’t sound right to her.
“I’ll go and fetch him. He will ken ye.”
Before she could think, she grabbed his big, warm, callused hand. He turned to her.
“Don’t go,” she said.
Something about him brought comfort and security to her. He was so tall and muscular, and he looked kind. He’d found her. He was trying to help her. He was the only person she knew.
He frowned. “Ye want me to stay?”
“Yes, please. I’m…I’m afraid to be left alone. I don’t know who I am, and I’m not even sure if this is a dream…”
“I’ll be right back, lass. I’ll just find the steward. I promise I’m nae going anywhere.”
He squeezed her hand reassuringly, and she felt better.
“Okay,” she said.
He winced. “What?”
“Yes, okay.”
“Strange word. Mayhap, people began speaking new words while I was away.”
She smiled and leaned back in her pillows.
Soon, Ian was back with a man in his forties with a big beer belly. The man was bald and looked like he was in a hurry to be somewhere and Ian was wasting his precious time.
“Who are ye?” said the man, leaning over her as though she were a strange animal at the zoo.
Kate sat up, feeling vulnerable, and wanting to protect herself. “My name is Kate. I’m not sure how I got here. Do you know me?”
“Nae. Never seen ye in my life. Where did ye find her?” he asked Ian.
“In the eastern tower. In the underground chamber.”
The man’s face straightened. “Underground? Where the food and drink provisions are?”
“Well, not in that chamber, in the one beyond the door.”
The man narrowed his eyes at Kate. “I have never seen ye. Why were ye there?”
“I don’t know!” Kate said.
“Where are yer things?”
“She had a bag, a small bag.”
Ian picked up a small, over-the-shoulder purse.
“Give it to me,” the man, who must be the steward, said.
Ian didn’t move, his eyes locked with Kate’s. “Nae,” he said. “I’ll check it myself.”
Ian opened the purse on the bed, then rummaged through it. There wasn’t much space in it, but he produced a plastic bag with a sandwich. A bottle of water. Napkins.
The men stared at them as though they were the devil’s things.
“What is that material?” the steward asked.
Ian unwrapped the plastic bag and removed the sandwich. “Dinna ken. But this is bread, some salt pork, and some grass, I think. Or mayhap cabbage. And something else—something red… A berry?”
“Ye’re a thief!” cried the steward. “Ye were stealing, weren’t ye?”
Kate sat straight up despite the headache that was killing her.
“No! I never— I don’t know what I was doing there, but it was definitely not stealing!”
“If she says she isna a thief, she isna a thief,” Ian said.
He sniffed the sandwich. “This smells delicious, lass. Did ye make this?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Then what proof do ye have for not being a thief?” the steward insisted.
“I don’t!” Kate cried. “I don’t have any proof at all. I don’t even know who I am.”
“Ye canna just blame her for what she hasna done,” Ian said. “Look at her. She canna even walk. Let her be, let her heal, and mayhap she’ll remember something. Or mayhap, someone will recognize her.”
The steward crossed his arms over his chest and gave a nod, although unwillingly. He turned and walked out of the room.
“Dinna fash yerself, lass,” Ian said. “Ye will remember something. And in the meanwhile, I will try this. It smells too good.”
He bit into the sandwich, chewed, and his expression changed to one of pure bliss.
“Heaven and hell, lass. Did ye make this?”
“I don’t know!”
“This is delicious. Mmm. Do
