Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Shortbread crumbled out of Lorna’s mouth as she sat in the breakfast room, her wide brown eyes blinking up at Kate who was mending yet another pair of trousers for the young girl.

“Mother’s shortbread tasted better.”

Kate wordlessly nodded in agreement, still flustered from her kiss with Gabriel in the kitchen the evening before.

One kiss that had lingered. No one spoke about the power of a lingering kiss. They were whispers of fire to come, of storms brewing, the first herald of desire.

He must think the very worst of her.

Her stomach tumbled. She wasn’t sure how she felt about herself either. But she felt their kiss was far different from whatever petty flirtation she shared with the marquess. That was nothing more than a girlish crush.

Gabriel .

Nearly three nights earlier now, his voice had broken and so had her resolve, and she had called him Gabe. It felt far too intimate.

Her mother would have collapsed in a fit of nerves if she ever discovered her daughter conducting herself the way Kate often did around men. It wasn’t as if she didn’t try to behave. It was only it felt amazing to be with a man, and be touched, to be wanted.

Even if that curiosity saw her ousted out of proper society.

Kate wasn’t proper.

During the last conversation she’d had with her mother, she had been called a harlot. And it had been made abundantly clear that she was considered a grave disappointment. While the marquess’s behavior in the entire affair was excused because of his rakish reputation.

Kate should have known better, her mother had reprimanded.

Should .

She had grown to despise that word over the past year. Should was quickly draining her life of any joy.

She should know better. She should behave better. She should find a husband and settle down.

“Miss Bancroft?” Maisie said, jumping up onto her chair and banging the table.

Kate blinked, startled out of her reverie. Right, just as she should be minding after the girls.

She was a horrible daughter, sister, and now governess.

“Maisie, at our tea party, I must insist you place your bottom in your seat. Princesses are not allowed to stand in their seats or else they could fall and hit their head.”

“And then no one would marry them because their head would be all bluidy and fall off,” Lorna giggled.

Kate fought back a laugh, not quite following. “Well, you could certainly injure yourself.”

“I dinna want to be married. I want to be a witch and live in the woods,” Maisie said, plopping down onto her seat and crossing her arms. “Kissing is disgusting, and I think ye have to kiss yer husband.”

“Da never kissed Ma,” Lorna shot back defensively, stuffing another piece of “not good” shortbread into her mouth.

“He did, too!”

“How do ye remember?” Lorna stuck her tongue out .

Kissing was the last thing Kate wished to think about. She stirred her tea and adjusted the giant bonnet they decorated with rags and ribbon scraps. The weight of it caused it to droop over her eyes, and the girls giggled.

“Now that teatime is nearly complete, my dears, it’s time we practice French.”

The girls groaned.

“Ah, but we can practice outside on a stroll through the gardens.”

“The gardens? Are ye daft?” Maisie said, her eyes wide. “They’re haunted!”

“I was informed there might be a ghost at this castle, and yet…”

“Wait,” Lorna said in a staged whisper. “Wait, and ye’ll see Sophie.”

“Maybe ye’ll run off…” Maisie waggled her dark eyebrows.

“I dinna ken if I want her to run off yet,” Lorna muttered, tossing her spoon down beside her teacup.

“Very well, then we will practice French without a stroll in the gardens.”

The girls groaned again, and Kate shut her eyes, exhaling a long breath. Foolishly, she imagined this would be far easier.

“Sophie didna have to learn French,” Maisie grumbled, pushing away her plate of shortbread crumbs. She tugged at the ribbon on her plaited hair as if she still held a grudge against Kate for brushing it earlier that morning.

“Sophie is dead.” Lorna jumped up from her seat and started racing around the table, holding up her hands and moaning as Maisie screamed and Kate contemplated jumping in the moat for a moment of silence.

Then the door burst open, and both girls screamed and ducked under the table.

“Och, I traveled all the way from Edinburgh, and ye’re no’ goin’ to hug yer auld aunt.”

The woman, who appeared not much older than Kate, smiled before tossing her hands to her hips in exasperation. “First, yer uncle disappears, now the bairns.”

She had narrow, cat-like eyes that were so light green they bordered on silver. And strawberry-blonde hair that hung loose down her back.

“We’re no’ bairns!” Lorna burst from under the table and threw her arms around the woman’s hips, burying her face in a tartan wool cape.

Maisie remained under the table, peering out with wide eyes.

“I am their governess, my lady.” Kate clutched her hands together, suddenly nervous.

“My brother never mentioned ye.”

Why would he? Still, it stung. “No.”

The young woman stuck her hand out toward Kate. “Elspeth MacInnes. Lovely to meet ye.”

Finally, Maisie wiggled her way out from under the table, and Elspeth sank toward the floor, getting on the girl’s level.

“It’s been awhile, lil’ Maisie,” Elspeth said. “Do ye remember me at all?”

Maisie shook her head, studying her. “You look like me da.”

“He…” She blew out a slow breath. “He was my brother. As is Uncle Gabriel.”

“My da died,” Maisie said, her voice breaking. And then she burst into tears and dashed into Kate’s arms.

Kate glanced at Elspeth, not a dry eye in the house, and sank to her knees to embrace Maisie. She had been here a month and never once did Lorna or Maisie cry about their father. They didn’t ever speak of him.

But that didn’t mean they didn’t feel the loss of him.

She hugged the little girl tight, her heart slipping open toward the MacInnes clan. They were a wild bunch, and they were hurting, even if they were too stubborn to admit it.

“Have ye come to stay?” Lorna asked, tapping Elspeth on the shoulder.

The woman brushed the tears away from her eyes and huffed out a breath. “For a time, I have. I have, Lorna. Will ye let me?”

Lorna whooped and raced around the room as Maisie slowly pulled away from Kate, her small blue eyes rimmed red from crying.

“It’s fine to cry, love,” Kate whispered .

Maisie nodded. She appeared as if she was about to say something before running for Elspeth and throwing her small arms around her aunt’s neck.

“Now,” Elspeth said, standing. “What’s this I hear about Sophie learning French?”