Once Upon a Plaid by Mia Marlowe Read Free Book Online Page B

quibbling over chattering teeth. The loch stretched below them, long but fairly narrow in either direction, its choppy surface cradled between ragged peaks. In the distance, the grey sky and water seemed to join as the clouds lowered.
    “More snow this night, I’ll be bound,” William said. When he turned his head so she could see his profile, Katherine caught a glimpse of the son she should have given him. He’d have been strong and sturdy, with laughing eyes and a firm chin, a smaller version of his father. A dull ache throbbed in her chest, and she forced herself to look away to the rough water of the loch.
    She had to find new thoughts. The ones rolling around in her head now were likely to make her heart stop beating.
    “I wonder how the waterhorse will manage if the loch freezes solid,” she said.
    “Waterhorse?”
    “Aye, did ye never hear tell of the waterhorse of Loch Ness?”
    Will chuckled. “O’ course I have. Since St. Columba saw the monster ages ago, there have been stories. I just never expected ye to believe in it.”
    “I grew up here, remember. The loch’s full of secrets.” She shrugged and pulled her cloak tighter. When the dark water of the loch rippled and swirled on a still day for no reason, it was hard not to imagine something large and otherworldly moving silently beneath the surface. “Nab saw it once, ye ken.”
    “Did he?”
    “Aye, so they say. It happened when he was but a young lad. Afterward, his mother found him standing like a pillar of salt by the edge of the loch, staring down into the dark water. He could scarcely move. She led him home, but he didna speak for a week. Then he finally said ‘Weel, that was a hell of a sight.’”
    William moved closer, positioning his body to shield her from the wind. “That doesna sound like Nab.”
    “No, it doesna. His father beat him for swearing, though I’ve no doubt he learned the word at his father’s knee, but his mother claims Nab never would have sworn unless he’d seen the waterhorse.”
    “I guess that would do it.”
    “Some folk say that’s what turned Nab so queer, but my father says he was born thus.”
    “I expect your father’s right. We are as God made us.”
    She looked at him sharply then. He was staring into the distance with a hard set to his jaw.
    “So ye’re saying I am as God made me.”
    He smiled at her then, but it seemed hollow, like the one she forced herself to wear sometimes. A cat’s smile. A smile that held unspeakable secrets. “I should remember to thank Him because He made ye specially for me to love.”
    “No, that’s not what ye were thinking. Ye were thinking if ye canna lay the blame on your wife, ’tis God’s fault we have no child.”
    “’Tis no one’s fault.”
    “Good. Ye shouldna blame the Almighty,” she said primly. “I fear for your soul if ye do.”
    “He hasna struck me down yet, and trust me, I’ve had plenty of blasphemous thoughts.”
    “Will, dinna say that. ’Tis my fault and we both know it.”
    “Kat, for once in your life, will ye please stop? I didna bring ye here to talk. In truth, I’m weary to death of words. There’ve been too many between us already, and more will only make things worse.” He moved to stand behind her, put his arms around her, and pulled her close to his chest. “I just want to be alone with the girl I love.”
    “Oh, Will.” She ought to pull away from him. If she didn’t, it would only make things harder on both of them, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She sank back into his embrace, soaking up his warmth and the strength of his body.
    “That’s more like it.” He kissed her neck just the way she liked for him to. A little pleasure-sprite danced over her skin. “Besides, I’ve a present for ye.”
    “A present?” She really ought not to accept it. Not when in her mind, she was still composing a letter to His Holiness, Clement VII, asking for an annulment. “I’ve not been good enough to deserve a