Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Finn hadn’t shown up to help with refinishing the floors in the inn. And Gabriel didn’t have time to find someone else, so he had spent the day replacing the damaged floorboards, sanding the others, and then staining them. They were a few weeks out before he could reopen the inn yet.

But he needed to find a way to open it sooner to take advantage of the festival attendance. The boost in business would help until he could arrange to have the distillery inspected and then licensed.

He paused as he stepped into Dunsmuir Castle that evening at the sound of her laugh.

It was like that first peek of sunlight after a wicked storm.

He clenched his fists, recognizing as much as he wanted to see her that he must avoid her, and started for the stairs to his room.

Except…

It didn’t sound as if she were with the girls, and it was time for them to be asleep. He had best see if she were well, and then he would be off to bed.

He strode down the dark hallway and stopped, peering in through the cracked door leading into the library.

Damn it .

Elspeth stood by the roaring fireplace, clutching a bottle of whisky and swinging her arms around in an animated story. Kate sat on the floor with a near-empty glass in her hand, utterly enraptured.

“And then Tavish tore it away from Gabriel, and Da goes ‘I swear it, no’ on my life, Constable.’”

Kate’s long black hair was cascading down her back, a river of curls. Her cheeks were flushed and her smile wide.

No matter how hard he tried to avoid it, she was still beautiful.

She was magnetic.

And he couldn’t rid her from his mind.

“Ye can come in, Brother,” Elspeth announced, turning toward the door.

He hated how Kate straightened, and her smile dropped.

Very well.

“Ye can begin with how excited ye are to see me,” Elspeth said, handing her bottle of whisky to Kate. Kate glanced at the bottle with one eye closed, then tipped the bottle, slowly pouring it into her glass.

“He has never been excited in his life,” Kate grumbled.

Elspeth grinned, her arms akimbo and her sharp nose lifted up in the air as if she were queen and holding court.

“Glad to see ye, Elsie.”

Gabriel stood awkwardly for a moment, bridging the distance between the two women.

“Come give me a warm welcome.” His sister outstretched her arms for a hug, but all he could do was glance toward Kate on the floor, who closed her eyes and concentrated on the whisky in her glass.

“Ye’ve come.” He gathered his sister into a hug, noticing the uncomfortable slip in his chest, as if it hitched. Odd, considering he hadn’t seen her in an age.

“Ye wrote, didn’t ye?”

“I wasna sure…” He broke apart, his hands firmly on her shoulders. “I’m glad ye came.”

Kate remained fixed on the floor, watching the fire, her shoulders tense.

“I was telling Kate here about the time… ”

“Kate?” He cleared his throat.

“We are well acquainted, your sister and I,” Kate said, a bitter tone to her voice.

“Why is she drunk, Elsie?” he hissed.

“Told you,” Kate said over her glass, then began to giggle.

Elsie’s eyes lit up. “Why are ye marching into the castle at this hour?”

He wished to tell her the truth but instead pressed his lips together. Telling Elsie about Finn wouldn’t do anyone good.

“No matter, no matter.” Elsie reached down and grabbed the bottle from Kate. “We were tastin’ the fine MacInnes whisky. For research.”

“Research?”

“Ye havin’ a hard time hearin’, Brother?”

Kate laughed to herself again. His lip curled in annoyance.

“How long have ye been testin’ the whisky?”

Elspeth’s eyes widened, and she dropped down to the floor, resting her head on Kate’s shoulder. “Pay us no mind. We have it well in hand.”

Kate snickered with Elspeth before they broke down into a peel of laughter. “Christ, why is the governess drunk, Elsie?”

Kate whirled around and glared at him. Her usual cheeriness was gone. “I don’t wish to hear from you. Or see you. No men allowed.”

“Oh, I like that rule,” Elsie said, righting herself. She pushed back the wild mess of strawberry-blonde waves and peered up at him. “Go on. Ye heard the woman. Leave!”

They both stared at him expectantly.

“Kate, it’s time to retire for the evening.”

“Kate, is it?” Elsie elbowed her. “Familiar for the laird of the castle to be calling the governess by her first name.”

Kate blushed, keeping her eyes focused on her near-empty glass again. “It’s fine whisky.”

“That it is,” Elsie agreed. “Here.” She filled Kate’s glass again and then drained the rest of her bottle herself, a smug smile on her face, as if proud of the MacInnes’s ability to drink nearly anyone under the table .

It turned Gabriel’s stomach. Tavish had been proud of that once, too. And as the others renowned him, he developed a bad habit that turned for the worse after Morag passed at the birth of their third bairn. The bairn, a boy, passed away a few hours later.

He cleared his throat.

“Miss Bancroft,” he said, every muscle within him taut.

Kate blinked up at him, finally flashing a smile. “Yes, Mr. MacInnes?”

“I will need yer assistance in the morning. I suggest ye turn in for the evening.”

She pushed to her feet, holding her hands out to gain balance, and giggled. “Now you keep my time as well? You can’t keep a clock set correct as it is. I’ve gone around and fixed them all, then found another. They’re like rabbits in this castle—clocks!”

Elsie stood next. “It’s late.” She leaned in and dropped a chaste kiss on Gabriel’s cheek. “Steady now, Brother. Wouldn’t want ye to?—”

Kate scoffed, nearly falling.

Gabriel reached out and grabbed her. “Careful now.”

“I am per—” she hiccupped. “I am fine.”

Elsie bid them both a good night, leaving him alone with Kate.

“I am fine,” she insisted. “You can unhand me.”

She attempted to shake off his touch, but she wavered, reaching out for his arm again.

“Very well. Hold me. You have strong arms.”

He bit his lip, fighting back his laugh. No need to inspire any additional unnecessary ire.

“I will see ye up to yer room.”

“You sound like Scotland at night.”

“Hmm?” He led them down the hallway and up the tight spiral staircase, up to her room. Up in the servants’ quarters, up away from the family. Almost two hundred steps.

Kate stumbled, reaching for her skirts before nearly tumbling backward. She reached for the railing. “I don’t mean to alarm you, Gabe, but your castle is moving.”

“How much whisky did ye taste? For research. ”

She shut her eyes and breathed through her nose as she paused and leaned against the stone wall. That was answer enough.

“I will carry ye the rest of the way.”

“Thoughtful of ye. Ha, I sound like…” She buried her head against his chest as he lifted her into his arms.

“Ye sound like what?”

“You smell like wood,” she whispered instead. “Your whisky is nice, but my stomach doesn’t feel well.”

“Not after a bottle or two. It’s meant for sipping.”

“Hmm.”

He took the stairs slowly, selfishly, relishing the feel of her in his arms, the weight of her body against his. He had missed her. And judging by her reception of him, Kate held their kiss as a mistake. Perhaps it was, but he couldn’t deny he hadn’t dreamt about it.

But that would never happen.

Which was why he had kept his distance since that night.

“My room is far away,” she whispered. “Elsie came. We are friends now.”

Kate mumbled, nuzzling her head against his shoulder. He’d never forgive Elsie for allowing this to happen.

“Close yer eyes. It’ll help with the rockin’.”

He pushed through the door to her attic room, instantly hit with the smell of her perfume and a noticeable chill. Kate adjusted her head, her lips accidentally brushing against the skin at the base of his neck in a cutting sweep.

“Stay still.”

She wiggled against him, pressing her breasts against his chest, then opened her eyes in a sleepy gaze.

“You kissed me once. I liked that, too.”

He nodded, uncertain what to say. He hadn’t simply liked it. He was suspecting he didn’t like anything about Kate. It was something far stronger, far more dangerous and tempting.

“And you ran away.” She gripped his shoulder and leaned closer toward his ear. “And I know your secret now. I know you ran whisky once. ”

“I’ve been occupied with the inn.” He leaned down and turned back the quilt on her bed with one hand, balancing her against his body with the other.

He didn’t wish to remember his days running whisky with his brother and Finn. He had left and made something of himself. He was worthy of being the laird just as much as Tavish and his father had been.

“Are you all done with me now? Now that you kissed me. Or are you going to be greedy?”

He settled her back onto her pillows and covered her up. “I…”

“I am drunk,” she proclaimed, “but that doesn’t mean you can lie to me, Gabriel MacInnes.”

“Right.”

“I won’t lie with you if that’s what you are after.”

“I’m no’ after anything.”

“No, I suppose not. But my reputation…”

He sat down on the edge of her mattress, reaching for the pitcher of water on the bedside table and pouring it into an empty glass.

“I dinna care about yer reputation. I kissed ye because I wanted to. I like ye, Kate.”

She smiled before the color drained from her face. “I feel as if…”

Kate leaned around him and cast up her accounts on his boots.

“You won’t now,” she said, her breath hitching before she softly sniffed back tears. “I deserve to be tossed away.”

He lifted her to sit up straight and looked her in the eyes. Eyes like a Scottish sky with a storm brewing. Dangerous and stirring all the same.

And his heart broke a little at her words. And he had done that.

“I didna hire ye because of rumors, lass. I dinna give a damn about reputations. Ye’re here because I wish ye to be. And I’m sorry ye thought…”

She paled once more and held her hand to her mouth. “No need to go romantic on me, Gabe. I’ve thrown up on you. I expect you’ll dismiss me now.”

Her words slurred, and he hated that, too .

Very well. There was only one thing to do. He set her down on the bed and grabbed the washbasin off the table.

“Hold this.”

She was about to fight him, when as he expected, she threw up once more.

He slipped off his boots and wiped them down with the tucked handkerchief in his pocket. He glanced at her and the bucket and waited a moment before he carried her down to his room.

“I don’t wish to drink whisky ever again,” she moaned.

Gabriel nodded, holding her closer as he pushed through the door of his bedroom. Her room would need cleaning, and he’d see to it. But for now, until he knew she wouldn’t be sick any longer, she could remain here, in his bed, in his room.

A greedy need curled up in his chest.

He would protect her.