Highland Master (20 page)

“But is that not how any father teaches a son, by correcting his errors?”

“A wise father acts otherwise,” Fin said. “Or so my own told me. He said it is more important that a man learn to trust his own instincts and his own decisions than to believe that he must try to pattern them after someone else’s.”

“Sakes,” Ian said, “how do you teach anyone
that
?”

“The same way that I hope I am teaching you,” Fin said. “By letting you make decisions whenever it is safe for you to make a mistake, so that you can learn from those mistakes. A mistake that a man can see and measure for himself—if it does not kill him—will teach him more than any parent or superior can.”

“But you do tell me when I err,” Ian said with an almost comical grimace.

“Aye, sure, I do. That is one consequence of your mistake. But you will note that I rarely intervene beforehand to prevent you from
making
the mistake.”

“In point of fact, sir, I have noted that and cursed you for it more than once when I thought that you
might
have warned me,” Ian said dryly. “It occurs to me, however, that you have not given me a clout for some time now.”

“Your decisions and judgment have improved, lad. And you have gained more confidence withal. The result is that you think and act more swiftly and more decisively, which gives the men that you command more confidence in you.”

“They don’t always show it.”

“What do you do when they don’t?” Fin asked him.

Ian smiled. “I seek advice from you, of course.”

“Then you and I discuss the matter privately between us, aye. But, sithee, if a man is always wondering what a mentor would say or do, he slows down the whole process of deciding, which would be fatal error in battle. But by watching and learning from others’ mistakes and talking over things that don’t go as you thought they would, you also learn just what sort of leader you
want
to be.”

“I think I ken that fine now, sir,” Ian said with a direct look.

“Aye, well, we’ll see. Meantime, I will not need you in the morning, so you may catch up on your sleep unless Toby can use your help.”

Ian nodded and ten minutes later, Fin was alone in the dark room.

It was some time, though, before he slept. He could still taste Catriona’s lips and feel her supple, curvaceous, warm body in his arms. That feeling faded, though, as his thoughts about her took him in another direction.

Having concluded that he had to tell her about his part in the battle at Perth and what happened there, he tried to imagine how to tell her the truth in a way that would not make her loathe him. As he did, it occurred to him that the minute he told her that he had been at Perth, she would know that that was where he and Ivor had had the one meeting that they had admitted having since their St. Andrews days.

Strangely, the urgency of resolving his dilemma had faded.

He no longer felt it looming, waiting for his guard to fall so that his conscience—or the presence of his father
that he felt so often in his mind—could pummel him for failing to fulfill his sacred bequest.

At first, while he had spoken so loftily to Ian about learning to make good decisions, he had felt as if Teàrlach MacGillony’s ghost were waiting to leap to life and fling lightning bolts at him by way of reproaches.

Instead, that talk seemed to have eased his sense of urgency more.

After Ailvie had retired to her own cot, Catriona lay in bed trying to sort out her thoughts about Fin. For a time, she let herself dwell on memories of their kiss and thoughts of where he might be imagining it could lead. Was that why he wanted to walk with her? Did he think that she would marry him and let him take her away, only to leave her in Lochaber with his people when he rode off to knightly duties?

What manner of man was he, exactly?

Thinking again of what he and Ivor had said about St. Andrews, she decided that the information was of no aid to her in figuring out what was going on at Rothiemurchus. They had been boys then, not men involved in dangerous acts.

Both were knights, experienced in battle. And they had met once since St. Andrews under circumstances that kept them from learning each other’s true names.

Her next thought followed easily but startled her so that she could scarcely think beyond it. She could imagine only one event that might have allowed such a meeting, and if it had, no wonder they did not trust her to keep silent.

If they had met in battle and Fin had tried to kill Ivor, or Ivor to kill Fin…

What would her father or mother think of that? Or her grandparents!

But if the two men had forgiven each other…

She tried to think more about that, but her thoughts drifted ahead to the morning walk she would have with Fin. She wondered if he would swim again. That thought stirred the sensations she had felt when he kissed her on the stairs, and she let her thoughts linger again on the image of him walking naked on the shore.

She wondered how it would feel to swim with him, to hug him underwater, to feel his skin all damp and slick, to touch him all over and let him touch her.

Familiar scratching at the door rudely jerked her from her fantasy.

Getting up, she let Boreas into the room, chuckling at the sight of the tiny shadow scrambling onto the landing behind him and dashing after the dog into the room. By the time she had climbed back into bed and blown out her candle, both were lying beside the bed, the dog curled around the kitten, the kitten expressing its satisfaction with a purr much louder than its size seemed to warrant.

Catriona shut her eyes to return to her fantasy only to awaken earlier than usual with a start and an exploding fear that she was late, that Fin would already have gone out and come back in. A look out the window reassured her.

The sky had lightened, but the sun had not peeked over the mountains.

Flinging on her blue kirtle, she decided not to waken
Ailvie but whisked her shawl across her shoulders and hurried out to the yard with Boreas and his tiny friend following in their own fashion. They crossed the yard, and when a man-at-arms stepped forward, she said, “Prithee open the gate. I am going for a walk.”

“Aye, sure, m’lady. With all these other louts about, ye should ken that Sir Finlagh be out there somewhere. Likely, he’ll keep an eye to your safety.”

Until he spoke, she had not considered that he might try to stop her, but she knew she ought to have brought Ailvie. Her father would say so. But her grandfather had let her walk outside the wall with Fin, so perhaps Shaw would not object.

Fin was but one man, after all. And she could take care of herself.

Boreas loped past her, and as her gaze followed him, she saw Fin striding toward her. An urge stirred for her to run to him. To stifle it, she reached down for the kitten, but it eluded her grasp and darted madly after the dog.

Grinning, Fin stopped to watch them, and as she approached him, he said, “I have seen odder friends, I expect. But Boreas does seem to take adoration in stride.”

“He does, and at times to the kitten’s grief. It likes to chase his feet and when it darts after his forepaws, it sometimes gets kicked by the hind ones and goes flying.”

“I trust you slept well,” he said.

Remembering her fantasies before she slept and the lingering remnants of at least one dream, she felt heat flood her cheeks as it had the night before.

To divert his attention, lest he ask again about the fire in them, she said, “Did you and Ivor meet in battle, sir? Is that why you would not tell me more about it?”

Fin decided that the lass was either a witch or far too observant and quick-witted for any man’s peace of mind.

That her blushes had made him want to grab her and kiss her did little to ease his disquiet. He had not meant to begin his explanation with the battle.

To gain time, he said, “What makes you think that?”

She cocked her head. “You are called Fin of the Battles, are you not? And both of you are knights. Moreover, you said that the place and time precluded your learning each other’s true names. What is more likely than that you met in battle?”

Resigned, he said, “We did meet in battle, aye, at the end of it to be precise.”

“Faith, did you fight each other?”

“We did not.”

“But if you were fighting on the same side, then surely—”

“We were not on the same side,” he said. “Let us walk farther from the castle, lass. If we are going to fratch over this, I’d liefer not do it before an audience of your father’s men on that wall.”

“Are we likely to fratch?”

“I don’t know. You will decide that.”

She nodded, and they walked in silence until they reached the woodland.

Then he said, “Since you apparently forgot to bring your maidservant, should we stop where they can still see us, or may we enter the woods?”

“We can go into the woods,” she said. “My grandfather trusts you, and I expect my father has decided to trust you,
too. Sithee, the guard at the gate told me that despite the extra men at the castle, I would be safe out here with you.”

“Did he, in troth?”

Nodding again, she led the way into the woods and along the path they had taken before. As they walked, he wondered what sort of game the Mackintosh and Shaw might be playing that they would allow him such liberty with her. Did they put so much faith in the truce between the two confederations?

That they trusted him at all was disconcerting, since the Mackintosh knew his identity and had surely told Shaw at the first opportunity. In Fin’s experience, other people’s trust often created a strong and, at times, even burdensome sense of responsibility. In light of the dilemma he had long carried, however, such trust from the Mackintosh men would, he knew, be a heavier burden than usual.

When he and Catriona came to the old raft leaning against the tree, she stopped and faced him. “Now, sir, prithee explain yourself.”

He raised his eyebrows, but she met the look steadily.

“Shall we sit?” he asked, gesturing toward a fallen tree with a trunk thick enough to let them both sit easily.

“Just tell me when and where you and Ivor met.”

“Nay, now. I’ll tell you, but I’ll tell it in my own way. By my troth, I meant to tell you, in any event. ’Tis the reason that I asked you to walk with me today.”

“It is?” She eyed him narrowly. “
That
is the reason?”

He returned her look with one of his own. “Sakes, what else did you think? I told you I’d explain it when I could, that I just needed to talk more with Ivor first.”

“Some might think that you two just needed to get your story straight.”

“
Might
they? Then I am glad that you do not number amongst them.”

“What makes you think I do not?”

“People who leap to such conclusions are usually not trustworthy themselves, lass. Since you insist that you are entirely trust—”

“Enough, sir. I should not have said what I did. I just did not want to tell you what I’d thought. But neither will I let you divert me further from the point.”

“Aye, well, I won’t press you then,” he said. “But I do think that we will be more comfortable if we sit.”

“I don’t
want
you to be comfortable. I want to know.”