Cat's Quill (22 page)

"Felt?" Tomas supposed he should feel complimented that at least he had looked interesting, that Cathal hadn't chosen someone else to talk to, or in fact the next person who had come along. His next words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, before he'd given Cathal the opportunity to answer his earlier question. "Would you have taken the same chance with someone else?"

"I took it with you," Cathal replied simply.

"That's not what I asked." It was a question that, really, he should know better than to ask, especially as the answer could be one he didn't want to hear.

"I really don't know. You were there, not someone else." Cathal smiled, the first one he'd given since Tomas had asked him if he could stay, but it didn't reflect in his eyes like his smiles usually did. "Would... would you prefer I hadn't?"

"No!" Tomas shook his head. However much Cathal couldn't or wouldn't tell him, Tomas did not want to give this up, although at the moment he hadn't quite worked out what exactly this was. Cathal said he was falling in love. Tomas wasn't entirely sure how he felt yet, and it was something he would not say unless he could do so honestly.

"Good." Cathal seemed to relax slightly, and then his head came up as though he was listening. Reaching for Tomas and pulling him with him, Cathal ducked down so they were both crouching behind the hedge, completely out of sight. When Tomas opened his mouth to protest, Cathal placed one finger on Tomas's lips, his expression apologetic.

The front door of the inn slammed shut, voices growing louder. Mrs. O'Neil passed a comment about manners and young men these days, but Heidi's reply was muffled and Tomas couldn't make it out. Gravel scrunched under the women's feet as they walked by. Very aware of the sound of his own breathing and racing heartbeat, Tomas was sure that they were going to be caught.

This was ridiculous! He and Cathal were hiding behind a hedge like a couple of kids scared of being caught with their hands in the proverbial cookie jar, and yet they were doing nothing wrong.

Cathal's grip on Tomas's arm tightened. Heidi and Mrs. O'Neil's voices grew fainter. It suddenly occurred to Tomas that he hadn't seen any strange cars outside the inn. Did Mrs. O'Neil drive? Perhaps Heidi would have to take her home, and they were heading toward the barn which doubled as a garage for that pink... thing.

After a couple of minutes, Cathal let out the breath he'd been holding and straightened again, Tomas following him. "They've gone," Cathal said. "Sorry, but I didn't want to talk to anyone else right now, not after everything that has happened today."

"Don't worry about it," Tomas reassured him. He didn't like being around other people and forced to make small talk at the best of times.

A loud, mechanical purring noise, interrupted by the occasional splutter, filled the air, and Cathal jumped, glancing around fearfully. It was followed by an equally loud crunch. Tomas grimaced. So much for Heidi passing comments on good driving and the health of her gear box! As if on cue, the Land Rover whizzed past them, pausing when the brakes were slammed on. Another crunch followed as Heidi turned the corner out onto the main driveway leading onto the road.

Cathal stood staring after it, leaning over the hedge to get a better look, his mouth half-open. "What was that?"

"Heidi's Land Rover," Tomas explained.

"Her what?" Cathal looked blank for a moment and then nodded. "Is it a vehicle of some sort?" He hesitated, as though hunting for the right word. "A car? Or is it an automobile? The one I've seen over the other side of the hedge is much bigger. It seems to hold more people."

"Don't you have cars where you come from?" Tomas was curious. Wherever it was, Cathal's explanation of not being from around here seemed to be rather an understatement. And yet he suspected if he asked Cathal directly, it would only serve to agitate him, especially as he was convinced that the more Tomas knew, the more danger he would be in.

"No." Cathal shrugged. "We use other means of transportation." His voice softened, and he gave Tomas a suspicious look. "No, I'm not allowed to tell you what. And just because our methods of doing things differ does not make my people any less dangerous."

"How did you know I was thinking that?" Tomas demanded, wondering if he should add mind reading to the list his mind was already beginning to formulate on those so-called methods of doing things.

"It's a logical assumption," Cathal explained. "I've also seen the mistake made before. Underestimation is dangerous." He sighed. "I've done it myself where they are concerned, and I'm probably doing it again in still being here."

"Do they know you are here talking to me?" Tomas couldn't help but glance around, wondering if they were being watched.

"I don't know." Cathal slipped his hand into Tomas's. "I suspect they know I am doing something I shouldn't. After all, I do have the reputation for it." He squeezed Tomas's hand. "We could be on borrowed time, or we could be perfectly safe and they have no clue. There's no way of knowing until it's too late."

"But the less I know, the safer I am?" Tomas wasn't so concerned about his own safety but about Cathal's. If his people were aware, what was to stop them from preventing him from coming here again? Each time they said goodbye or Cathal disappeared, it could be forever.

"Yes." Cathal leaned forward, kissing Tomas softly, tracing his tongue over Tomas's lips. "And the less I say the more chance we have of being able to see each other, because they will perceive you as less of a risk to them."

It wasn't the complete truth; Tomas wasn't stupid enough to believe Cathal's explanation that fully, but after what had already happened today, he wasn't about to push any farther.

But for now he would go out on one limb, at least. "The inn's deserted, Cat." Whatever their "methods of doing things," it was doubtful they could see or hear through walls. "We could collect my stuff and have lunch and coffee inside. You said it's been a while since you've been there, and it's probably safer, too, while there is no one around. It should be at least an hour before Heidi gets back, and Donovan's out." He searched Cathal's face, trying to gauge his reaction. "I could show you the painting," he added hopefully, though already knowing the answer would be no.

Cathal's eyes flickered between the tree, the spot in the field where they'd left Tomas's bag when they'd gone after Mikey, and the inn. He let go of Tomas's hand, one finger tracing the twig bracelet around his wrist. Finally he took a deep breath. "Yes. All right, I will."

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Fourteen

It didn't take long to collect the Thermos and Tomas's bag from where they'd been left. He'd debated for a split second waiting until after lunch, but he didn't want to risk the letters or his writing journal. The food could be replaced; those couldn't.

Cathal seemed to take a deep breath when they walked through the gap in the hedge toward the front door of the inn. How long had it been since he'd done something as simple as this?

"Are you okay?" Tomas asked when Cathal strengthened his grip on their joined hands. He'd told Tomas that this was his first time inside the inn since the night of the storm, but surely that didn't mean that he hadn't ventured farther than the field during the last five years?

"I'm fine," Cathal reassured him, although he did seem a little more pale than usual, and his words were very softly spoken. "All right, maybe not quite fine," he admitted, noticing Tomas watching him carefully. "This is a bit of a step for me. I haven't been this far for quite some time, and it's more difficult than I thought it would be."

Tomas leaned over and kissed him briefly. "I'm not going anywhere, Cat. If anything happens, we're doing it together, okay?" The pressure on his hand tightened and then relaxed. Cathal appeared to need that increased physical contact when he was nervous about something.

"Okay." They reached the door, and while Tomas was hunting for the key Heidi had given him, Cathal took a step back, his attention taken by the climbing roses, his lips curving into a slow smile. "Love at first sight," he murmured.

"Excuse me?" The key found and the door opened, Tomas turned to usher Cathal inside. He was slightly flushed, his hand brushing hair from his face.

"Lavender roses," Cathal explained. "They mean love at first sight." The flush grew deeper. "Enchantment as well, apparently." He pointed to the dark pink rose which embraced the other two. "That one is often a way of showing one's appreciation."

"Oh." Tomas remembered the rose that had been left in his room. "Umm, I didn't know that."

"Alice liked flowers, particularly roses." Cathal followed Tomas into the inn. "She had a book about the meanings behind each one. It was very interesting reading." He looked momentarily embarrassed. "I enjoy reading, so I tend to read anything I can. She used to keep me well supplied in books. Christian wasn't as inclined that way. He preferred to be out hunting, while I hated it."

Tomas led the way into the kitchen, pleased to see there was a pot of coffee ready to brew. All he had to do was turn on the element to heat it through. "It sounds as though the three of you spent a lot of time together. Did they mind that? Being a couple and you...." He trailed off, not sure how exactly to say what he was thinking without sounding rude.

"I believe the term is playing gooseberry." Cathal chuckled lightly, his eyes widening when he looked around the kitchen, taking in all the modern appliances of which Heidi appeared to be quite fond. "The three of us were not together in that way, if that is what you wanted to know. They were very much in love, and while we did spend time together as friends, I also made sure to give them their privacy." His tone grew wistful. "I envied what they had, and I often wondered if there was someone out there like that for me."

"Is that what you still want?" Tomas pulled the food out of his bag, debated heating it and decided against it. He reached into the cupboard and pulled out plates, using the action to hide his reaction to Cathal's comment. Was that what Cathal wanted with him? He swallowed, the thought of himself and Cathal as a couple sending warmth running through him. He'd never considered the possibility that he might find someone he'd want to settle down with.

"Yes." Cathal attempted to open the microwave to look inside. "What does this do?"

"It heats food, or you can use it to cook." Hadn't the previous occupants had one? Microwaves were not a new invention. Tomas opened it, explaining briefly how it worked. "Didn't Alice use one? You said she liked to cook."

"She liked to do things the old-fashioned way. The house never really changed much in the year or so we were here. She said she preferred to spend her money on other things." Cathal sat down at the table but didn't help himself to any of the food until Tomas had done so first. "I'm not sure it would have improved her cooking skills. She really did not possess any, but I didn't want to upset her by telling her so." He grinned suddenly. "I remember she made something she called rock cakes one day. They really were very much like their name. Christian used them for target practice, and she found out."

Tomas laughed, already biting into one of the scones. He gestured for Cathal to try whatever he liked. "These are bacon and cheese scones. They're very good." He pushed the plate toward him. "What happened?"

"She was very angry and threatened to shove the rock cakes down places that really are not repeatable in polite company." Cathal shook his head. "Christian should have known better, but he lacks tact. He tends to state his opinion, and quite loudly. They were both very stubborn and well suited in that regard."

The coffee made a gurgling noise. Tomas got up to get the cups. "A family trait, perhaps?" he couldn't help but observe.

"I'm not stubborn, and I'm not my cousin," Cathal announced, scone poised in midair between the plate and his mouth. "He used to lead me into trouble, not the other way around."

"You may have some tact," Tomas said, "but I've noticed your stubborn streak already." He poured the coffee, walked back to the table, and sat down again, handing Cathal his cup.

"If I'm stubborn, so are you." Cathal put his scone down in favor of the coffee, his fingers brushing against Tomas's, lingering slightly, when he took the cup. "This is very good," he said, sighing. "It's been too long since I've done this. I didn't realize how much I've missed it."

"You don't have kitchens and tables and use crockery where you come from?" Tomas couldn't resist the dig.

Cathal poked out his tongue. "We're quite civilized, thank you."

"Mature too, I see," observed Tomas, amused.

"On occasion, when I feel the need and depending on what company I'm keeping." Cathal sobered suddenly. "I meant it's been too long since I've done this here. I've ventured a little farther than the field since that night I met Blackthorn during the storm, but I've still had to be somewhat cautious." He took a gulp of coffee. "It's difficult to see much peering through windows. I didn't even dare to borrow books from the library in case they were missed."

"The library?" Tomas frowned. The library was in the village itself, and yet Cathal had just said that he hadn't gone farther than the field.

"This house used to have an extensive library before Donovan and Heidi moved in and turned it into an inn. Libby used to bring me books to read from it." Cathal sounded disappointed. "Is it gone?"

"I haven't seen it." Tomas shrugged. "That doesn't mean it doesn't exist, though. I could ask Donovan or Heidi about it." He hesitated. "The library in the village has an extensive collection. You might like to look through there. I could take you, if you'd like." The suggestion had been a mistake; the expression of wistful longing on Cathal's faced chased away quickly by regret showed that all too clearly. "Or if you tell me what you'd like to read, I could bring you some books."

"You'd do that for me?" Cathal's fingers tightened around his coffee cup, his knuckles white. He leaned forward in his chair, his expression intense yet at the same time looking a little lost and unsure, the mask not quite hiding what was underneath.

"Yes." Tomas spoke softly. "I won't ask you to do anything you don't want to, Cat. Not with that, not with anything. I... whatever we do has to be because we both want it."

"Equal." Cathal sighed. "That's all I want, Tomas. Someone I love who wants to spend time with me, rather than doing so because of societal expectations. I can't do that again. Once was enough."

Tomas put his own cup down with a bang. "Someone did that to you?" Bastard. It was lucky for whoever was concerned that he did not know where they lived, at least for the moment.

"Don't be angry." Cathal shivered, one finger gingerly stroking the side of his cup.

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are." Cathal studied the wood grain of the table. He bit his lip. "Different societies have different ideas of courtship. Mine has customs and rules that must be adhered to, whether I agree with them or not."

"This isn't in the past, is it? You said 'once', and then you said 'must be' like it was still happening." Tomas's voice dropped a notch in pitch, the tone very even. "Which is it?"

Cathal flinched. "I've told my family I don't want to do this. She is not the person I want, and I'm not going to perform on demand." He snorted. "She also seems to be of the opinion that I'm some submissive who will just go along with what is expected because I can't afford to have any more black marks against me."

"What will they do to you if you don't agree to this?" Tomas wondered if there was some way to follow Cathal when he left.

"I have no intention of agreeing." Cathal put his cup down, looking directly at Tomas. "I need to be with someone who loves me for myself, and I don't love her." His tone softened. "I love you."

"I want to help." Tomas pushed his chair back and stood, ignoring the scraping noise it made against the floor.

"No." Cathal shook his head. "I shouldn't have said anything." He sighed. "It would just make things worse, Tomas. Trust me." He muttered something under his breath, words that Tomas did not understand.

"But I can't just sit back and do nothing!" Tomas walked around behind Cathal's chair and put his arms around him. Cathal leaned back into the embrace. "Can't you just leave?"

"If that was an option, I would have, believe me." Cathal tilted his head and kissed Tomas softly on the lips. "Don't worry about me. I've been fighting this for a fair amount of time, and I'm not about to give in now." He smiled. "Especially not now I have someone I want to be with."

"But...." The thought of Cathal being with another person, let alone it being against his will, sent a chill through Tomas.

Cathal silenced him with another kiss. "No, Tomas. I can fight my own battles. I just want to enjoy the time we have. I will be fine, I promise you."

It was a promise Tomas was not stupid enough to think Cathal could keep. The way Tomas saw it, there were two choices. Either he could make the most of the time they had, or he could try and protect Cathal in any way he could, and that included discovering why he couldn't stay. Actually, there was a third: a combination of the two.

"I wish I could believe that." Tomas stroked Cathal's hair. "I won't argue with you now, Cat, but I'm not forgetting this, okay? We need to sit down and see if we can figure out a way around it, even if we don't do it today."

"There isn't a way around it." Cathal gave Tomas a stubborn look that was already growing a little too familiar.

"Fine, there isn't." Tomas couldn't help but glare in return.

"Didn't you want to show me a painting?" Cathal tried to push his chair back to stand, but Tomas's position behind him prevented him from moving.

"You're changing the subject!" At least Cathal could have had the decency to be subtle about it. A bull in a china shop would have fared better.

"Yes, I am." Cathal's tone dared Tomas to argue that point with him. "So are you going to show me or not?"

"I'm not dropping this, Cat." The expression on Cathal's face was nothing less than frustrating. It was unbelievable that anyone could have ever thought he was submissive in any shape or form. They would have to be both blind and stupid.

"I know. I wouldn't expect you to." Cathal sighed. "I know you want to help, but you can't. This is one battle you cannot fight." He attempted to push his chair away from the table again, but Tomas wasn't prepared to move yet. "I don't want to argue with you, but there are situations over which you have no control. This is one of them."

It was not the right choice of words to put Tomas's mind at ease. "But you do?"

"It is my life, and I will do what I need."

That statement was no better. "Need to what? Survive? And if it doesn't work? I might not see you again." Tomas shook his head. That answer was not acceptable.

"I won't take any unnecessary risks." Cathal looked at Tomas and then the chair. "I'm leaving the table. You need to move."

"And if I don't?" Tomas had every intention of moving; he wasn't sure why he'd asked the question.

"You will." Cathal pushed the chair back hard against Tomas, who let go, stepping sideways at the same instant. Though slight of build, there was certainly nothing weak about Cathal's physique. He was much stronger than he appeared, the muscles in his arms visibly flexing through the fine cotton of his shirt when he leaned his hands against the table to steady himself after the chair suddenly flew backward.

Forcing his brain to focus and himself to stop staring, Tomas mumbled a "sorry" under his breath.

"You did that on purpose!" Cathal glared at him.

"No!" Tomas protested. "I was going to move, I just didn't expect you to do that." Truth be known, he hadn't expected Cathal to be able to do that.

Cathal's eyes narrowed. "Didn't expect or didn't think I could?"

"Umm." Tomas examined the piece of grass stuck to the toe of his boot. "I suppose all of the above isn't the answer you want?"