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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] to show for our venture." Catriona shook her head, but Lainie knew the girl would do her bidding. Lainie loved Catriona, but at times, the girl was far too timid and shy. Chapter Thirteen "What do ye mean, ye don't know how to cook?" Hawke looked upon a pan of congealed eggs and barely baked biscuits, his stomach churning. She hid the grin tugging at her lips. "I believe I did quite well for my first attempt." "Your first--" he began, but stopped, his mouth open and it seemed to Callie he wanted to say something, yet he chose not to speak. "My family was able to hire servants for such things. So I was never trained in the art of cooking," she told him, unable to hide the bubbling laughter. Dutifully, he spooned the food onto a plate and sat down at the table. He stirred the mess around his plate and grimaced once more, looking very unhappy. She watched, fascinated. "Ye won't hurt my feelings if ye don't eat the eggs or the biscuits." He stopped stirring and looked at her. "What did ye eat?" he asked suspiciously. "Ye seem in too good a humor to be starving." "Elizabeth made me breakfast. The food is gone, every delicious morsel eaten. She said ye would eat with Jarrod, so I didn't save anything. Truly, if she was wrong, I'm sorry." He sputtered, then unable to think of anything to say, he swore. "Well?" she queried. "Ye did eat?" "I didn't." She laughed softly and pointed to the fire, delighting in the game she played, yet deciding the fun at Hawke's expense needed to end. "There is porridge in the kettle. I believe it is palatable." The glance he slanted her was hard to read. Yet even though she read danger in the look, she also saw an underlying glint in his gray eyes that spoke of humorous retaliation in return. "Ye sure?" he questioned as he walked toward the fire and the kettle she'd said was filled with food. "Something isn't going to jump out at me?" "Nay," she said softly, fiddling with the folds of her dress and watching her fingers before looking to him again. His back was turned to her, and he had a bowl and spoon in hand. She watched as he stirred the porridge before he filled his bowl. He turned then, and watched her as he silently walked to the table. Cautiously, he brought the spoon to his nose and sniffed. He smiled at her again. "It smells and looks like porridge." Still he seemed reluctant. "It is not poisoned if that is why ye hesitate," she told him, her indignation at his mistrust apparent. "Porridge," he said. "Aye." He tasted it and said nothing more as he downed the contents and refilled the bowl. The silence felt normal. Watching Hawke had become enjoyable and Callie wondered if she would always feel this way. "Hawke?" Jarrod stepped inside the back door and walked to the table, his expression grim. "What is it?" Hawked asked, immediately pushing the food aside and standing. "I need a word with ye." Jarrod looked to Callie, appearing miserable, then back to Hawke. Callie rose from the chair. "I have things to do. Excuse me." She nodded to Hawke, knowing her presence was not welcome. Her heart sped. She wanted to know what Jarrod had to say. What news could he bring? She paced through the lodge, running her fingers across furniture as if to wipe away imaginary dust. She could hear the quiet rumblings of the men, but wished she could understand the words. Hawke would never tell her. He would keep whatever news Jarrod brought to himself or he would tell only what he felt necessary. Stopping in front of a window, she breathed in deeply. Her gaze roved the countryside, searching for untold danger, watching the clouds shift back and forth across the sun. The back door closed and then silence followed. She could still smell the porridge which was beginning to burn. "Callie?" Startled by Hawke, she turned quickly, a tiny gasp rushing from her. "Aye? I didn't hear ye. I thought ye'd--" "We have to leave. Pack your things." "But--we've only just arrived," she said. All business now, Hawke had already dismissed any questions she might have for him. He walked toward her, his hand outstretched as if he sought to soothe her injured feelings. When he reached her, he touched her fingers and carefully brought them to his lips, touching each one then staring into her eyes. "I'm sorry." "I thought ye planned to stay a week," she told him. "Things have changed." Already he distanced himself, the space suddenly unbridgeable. "What things?" She wanted to stamp her foot and demand he tell her everything Jarrod had said. Instead, she hid her emotions from him just as he hid whatever he and Jarrod discussed from her. Hawke dropped her hand and turned from her. Silently, a simmering anger grew within. She knew she had no rights, knew he didn't have any obligation to explain. Hawke had never pretended. She knew her place in his life. She withdrew from him and walked to the bedroom where she packed the few belongings she had brought with her. He did the same. Jarrod waited for them at the stables and helped her mount. He talked once more with Hawke, his voice low and his words carefully guarded. Her frustration grew. "God speed," Jarrod said. Hawke nodded to her and said nothing, his face masked of all emotions. He was cold and dangerous. "Follow in two days. I may have need of your services, but make sure these grounds are secure before ye leave," Hawke told Jarrod. "I will," the older man said. They left and began the descent to the valley below, but they did not travel the same path as their first journey to the hunting lodge. Hawke felt the burn of her gaze upon his back. Inwardly, he sighed. He wished the trust that had begun to develop between them had not just been shattered. He brooded over Jarrod's words about that fateful day so long ago as well as the news of Bertram. He did not want to worry her or send her dashing to Lainie's rescue when he didn't even know if Lainie needed rescuing. He was worried though. Bertram's presence near The MacPherson castle did not bode well. Nay, he was more than worried. He was petrified. And there was the added fear that if Bertram was seen, Archibald or Simon might be nearby. Before they left, Jarrod slipped him a small paper-bound box and a few documents his father had written and given to Jarrod just prior to his father's execution. Callie had seen and heard the story despite Hawke's watchful and wary gaze. She would be furious. He would have to deal with her anger, and he would have to learn just how much [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |