The Imposter (7 page)

“Diggin’ in the
dirt, lass.  What else?  I’ve the afternoon off due tae my shoulder and I’d
rather not waste my entire time sitting here watching ye dig in the dirt.”

“Don’t let me stop
you then.  Get on your way,” I said wondering why he didn’t move along if he
didn’t want to sit there and watch me.  I certainly hadn’t asked him to stay.

Does he really
want me to go with him?

 
I was
giddy with excitement, but pangs of guilt resounded as I knew that I should not
lead him on, should not go with him.  I wanted to spend more time with him.  I
was enjoying these new-found attentions that my father’s over-protective ways
had deprived me of.  I wanted to be a carefree young woman, chased after by a
handsome man.

“Let’s go then,”
he said, standing up and tossing the grass stem to the ground.  He reached out
a hand in my direction.  His hands were large, tan and calloused.  I noticed
that there were scars of various sizes covering his hands.  He was such a
contrast to the aristocratic men that I was accustomed to.  I had never met a
man that had calluses from actual labor.  I knew that Devon’s calluses came
from wielding a sword.  Something that was absolutely unimaginable to me.   “I
mean tae take ye with me,” he smiled.  “It’s nae fun having the day off if ye’ve
no one tae get into trouble with.”

I brushed my hands
on my skirts, reached up and took his hand.  I was committed now and allowed
his hand to close around my own, hoping that this was not as big of a mistake
as I was afraid that it might be.  My hand was completed enveloped by the size
of his work hardened tan hand.  His hands were masculine, warm and strong as he
gently pulled me to my feet.  My heart beat faster in anticipation.

 “And why would I
allow you to take me anywhere?” I questioned feigning a half-hearted excuse not
to go with Devon as I squinting up at him in the afternoon sunlight.  Although
I prided myself in being a free woman, I knew that going out alone with a man
was frowned upon. Or at least it was frowned upon where I came from. Devon did
not seem to be the kind of man who would care about what was frowned upon. 

“Ouch, a fiery
lass ye are!” he said, eyebrows raised in surprise, seeming to somehow
appreciate my quick refusal of his invitation.  “I’ll do ye nae harm, Kate. 
I’d like to show ye around the lands surrounding the keep, as further means of
thanking ye for putting up with my antics last night.  It will be most
respectable, I promise,” he said, flashing me a devilish smile.

I questioned if
Devon McClain was capable of being respectable.  He was a rebel if I had ever
seen one.  “Should I change?” I questioned, self conscious as I looked down at
my dirt stained wool dress.  I imagined that I must look affright, hair
disheveled and dirt smeared across my face from gardening.  I felt Devon’s eyes
upon me and I knew that he did not share my opinion about my looks.  I could tell
when a man liked what he saw.  The look on his face made me nervous, yet
strangely, I trusted him to be the perfect gentleman.  Well, maybe not perfect.

“Yer lovely as ye
are,” he smiled encouragingly. “And if ye don’t hurry up, I’ll have tae kidnap
ye.”  Devon grabbed the basket from my hand and strode from the garden towards
the kitchen.  I brushed my hands on my skirt once more and followed after him
towards the kitchen.  I was intrigued by Devon and I could not deny that I had
noticed the way he had been looking at me, examining me.  I could see that
there was something about me that interested him.

I tried to quell
the fire that his gaze had ignited deep within me as I trailed behind him.  I
would allow him to show me about the keep, but that is all that I would allow
him. 

Chapter Five

“Put yer arms
around my waist lass, and hold on tight!” he warned before kicking the horse
into motion.

I quickly obliged
out of fear from falling off the horse, scolding myself for noticing how firm
the muscles of his abdomen and back felt beneath my fingers. 

We rode away from
the keep and Devon settled one arm around my waist to steady me as the terrain
gradually changed from a flat meadow surrounding the keep to a rocky steep
slope surrounded by trees.  We rode up a narrow rocky path, climbing up the
side of the hill until we reached a clearing that was surrounded by towering
pine trees.  Although we were not far from the keep, the clearing felt as
though it was another place entirely.  It was secluded by the forest
surrounding it and filled with late summer wildflowers in shades of purple and
white.  It was beautiful.

Devon reined the
horse to a stop and dismounted, still holding me in his arms.  He gently set me
on my feet and pulled my arms from around his waist.  Color rushed to my face
again when I realized that I had been hanging onto him just a little too
tightly.  He had to tug the linen of his shirt from the grips of my fists,
laughing softly as he did so.

“Not a fan of
horses I see?” he said as he straightened his rumpled shirt.

“No.  Riding is
not something that I have learned to enjoy.”

“What do ye think,
lass? he questioned, changing the subject and looking around the clearing
proudly.

I surveyed the
clearing, taken aback by its simple beauty.  “It’s amazing!”

“Always been one
of my favorite places, ye ken?” he said as he rummaged in the saddle bag of his
horse, producing a plaid blanket which he spread out over the lush grass of the
meadow.  “Not too far from the keep, but it feels like a different world
altogether,” he said as if reading my mind. “I’ve always liked coming up here
to be alone, tae think things out.”  He pulled out a few paper wrapped bundles
and a small round of bread, followed by an earthenware jug and two cups.  “Have
a seat will ye?”

I sat down on the
blanket, smoothing my skirts around my legs, and surveyed the picnic that he
had set before us.  Devon tucked his unruly hair behind his ears, then gave up
and unfastened his hair, raking his hands through it before refastening the
queue at the base of his neck.

He joined me on
the blanket and popped the cork from the jug.  He poured ale into a cup and
handed it to me.  I watched him intently as he poured himself a cupful and took
a deep dreg of the cool amber liquid.  His movements were smooth and precise
and he held an easy grace which I had not often observed in a man.  Devon was
clearly a man who was comfortable in his own skin.  He knew I was watching him,
but didn’t care in the least.

“See, I promised
tae be on my best behavior,” he smiled and un-wrapped the small paper parcels
to reveal several types of cheese and two apples.

“This is really
nice,” I said with sincerity, surprisingly glad to be free from the prison-like
walls of the castle.  “I wouldn’t have expected this after the insensitive
bastard that you appeared to be last night.” I said, teasing.

“First impressions
are everything, are they no?” he said, still puzzled by his first impression of
this contradiction of a woman.  He took a bite out of one of the apples and
tossed the other my way.

I reached up and
caught the apple, at the same time I noticed the stain on his shirt as he
turned towards me.  “Your shoulder!” I gasped, dropping the apple and moving
quickly towards him.  Bright crimson blood had stained his fresh linen shirt. 

He looked down and
casually dismissed the blood.  “It’s nothing, lass.  Doona fash yerself.”

“Obstinate man!” I
said, not asking permission to take off his shirt this time I unbuttoned the
shirt to his waist, and carefully slid my hands beneath the stained fabric,
baring his chest and exposing the bleeding wound.  I felt him shudder and
quickly draw in his breath as my hands slid over his skin to push away the
shirt.  “You’re bleeding badly!” I exclaimed, examining the wound.  My stitches
had torn apart slightly and had irritated his skin, which was now bleeding
where the stitches precariously bound the wound closed.

“It’s no that bad,
lass,” he said taking another bite of his apple, clearly not worried by the
wound. “It’ll stop bleeding in nae time.”

Figuring that his
shirt was the cleanest thing available, I balled up the tail and pressed it to
the wound, applying pressure to stop the bleeding.  I glanced up at Devon who
was munching away at his apple, watching me with those captivating green eyes.
I held his shirt in place on the wound, leveraging myself against him to apply
pressure, and settled back onto my knees into a more comfortable position.

“I should have
never agreed to let you bring me here.  You should still be in bed with a wound
like this.”  I ordered, finding myself irresponsible for not being a better
nurse. 

“I’ll do as I
please,” he said, challenge in his voice.

“Stubborn idiot!”
I huffed as I brushed the stray lock of hair that had fallen across my face
behind my ear.

Devon chuckled. 
“All Scots are stubborn.  Its born and bred into us.  Ye’d be wise tae learn
that early.  It’ll save ye a lot of hassle.”

“But I told you not
to use this arm!” I scolded, eyebrows knit together.  “The stitches looked fine
this morning in the garden, now they’ve torn apart and I’m worried that it
might get infected,” I said as I gingerly pulled back the ball of his shirt to
inspect the status of his bleeding.  It had slowed considerably, but I pressed
the shirt back in place for good measure.

“If I hadna used
my right arm, ye’d have fallen right off my lap on the way up here!  I’d not
planned tae use it, that’s why I told ye tae hold on, ken.  But ye didna hold
on tight enough and I figured that it would be better to tear my stitches than
tae let ye fall off my lap and bruise yer cute little bum.”

Yet again, color
flooded my face and I looked away from his green eyes and focused my vision on
his shoulder, pretending to examine the bleeding again.

“Oh,” I said
quietly, now feeling bad for berating him and embarrassed that he had mentioned
my “bum.”

“I had promised
tae be most respectable and I thought that letting ye fall of a horse might not
redeem me verra much,” he said, reaching over and removing my hand from his
chest.  “It’s done bleeding now, lass.  Thanks ye.”

“I’m sorry that I
chastised you,” I said.

“Nae harm done.  A
little more of this ale and I’ll forget all about it.  Ye should have some
too,” he invited, glancing towards my cup.

I reached towards
him and pulled his shirt together, starting to button it from the bottom and
working my way up.  His breathing changed as I worked my way up towards his
neck and smoothed the collar of his shirt.  He cleared his throat and raked his
hand through his hair as I drew away from him and settled back down on the
blanket.  I took a deep drink of the cool ale.  It was bitter and tasted good
in the afternoon sunshine.  One would have to be blind not to see the physical
attraction between us.  It was almost palpable.  I knew that he had noticed it
as well and we were both unsure of how to proceed.

“Can I use my arm
now?” he asked mockingly, using his right hand to raise the jug of ale to his
mouth. 

“Do as you wish,”
I said, feigning disinterest.

 “Yer so damn
bossy that saying that was difficult for ye, was it no?”

“I’m not bossy!”

“Really?” he
laughed, “Yer no bossy?  Ye’ve done nothing else but tell me what I should and shouldna
do with myself since I met ye in the hall last night!”

“Well, maybe I am
little bossy, but if you had some sense about you, I wouldn’t have to be
telling you what to do,” I said matter-of-factly, taking another swig of ale.

“No wonder ye get
on with Leti so well.  She loves ye already,” he said.  “I think that her
favorite hobby is bossing Brennan and I around.  Drives me mad.”

“She loves you
both very much,” I said, defending my new friend. “I’m sure she’s just trying
to keep you two out of trouble.”

“Aye, she does,”
he said, taking a bite of bread.  “And she kens that I would do just about
anything for her, so she can get away with being a tad bossy,” he confided,
smiling slightly. 

“Who is older, you
or Leti?” I questioned, having never thought to ask before.

“I’m older,” he
said with a smirk, green eyes sparkling.

“By how much?” I
asked, taking the bait.

“About an hour,”
he chuckled.  “She’s plagued me almost my whole life,” he said jokingly.

“I had no idea
that you were twins!” I exclaimed, surprised this revelation.

“Aye, we are,” he
said smiling.  “I’d do anything for Leti, pain in the arse that she can be.”

“I can tell that
you love her very much,” I said, reclining down onto the blanket and supporting
my head with one elbow.  Devon made me feel relaxed, comfortable and at ease.

“She’s pretty much
got me wrapped round her little finger,” he admitted. 

It was funny to
think of this huge warrior being so charmed by his little sister.  It was also
quite endearing.

“She’s just so
small, feisty, but small, and I’ve always known that it is my job tae keep her
safe, protect her, ken?” he confided.  “It’s strange that she can be so similar
to me, yet so different.”

 Casual
conversations brought up topics that I was working hard to repress.  It was
difficult to answer questions about my home, my family, and my life in general
without making a blunder that would expose the fact that I was an imposter.  I
knew nothing of where the real Ms. Berkshire came from, nothing of her family,
and I was unsure of how much the McClain’s knew about her story.  My rouse of
amnesia after the traumatic murders of my companions was all that I had to
protect myself with.  I was careful not to give away much information about
myself.  I had chosen to stick with the story that I remembered bits and pieces
about my past, but nothing regarding the murders.  I figured that the vaguer I
could be the better.  I hoped that my rouse would last long enough for me to
formulate a plan for safety.  I was terrified of being discovered and knew that
it was only a matter of time until my safety ran out.