“I’m glad to hear it,” she said primly. “I’ve no interest in being anything other than yer archer.”
He hadn’t imagined her response to him in the cave and thus was aware of the lie of her claim. But he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he shifted the topic so their conversation could be left in her thoughts to simmer.
“Is yer mum English, or yer da?” He nonchalantly asked the question, as though it were merely a curiosity. And it was to an extent.
He needed to know where her loyalties truly lay. With an English clip to her words and a brother who worked for one of King Edward’s earls, she might not be fully with Scotland.
William had been willing to brush aside the topic of her brother offering her information, but it was certainly not forgotten. Not when her loyalties could be questioned. And not when such knowledge could help a future attempt for Mabrick Castle end in victory.
Kinsey didn’t answer right away.
“Ye know ye can trust me, aye?” He winked at her. Lasses always loved when he winked.
She frowned at him but still replied. “My da, but he’s dead.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said solemnly. And he was. Having grown up without a mother, he knew what it was like to lose a parent early in life. “I dinna know my mum. She succumbed to fever soon after my birth. Did ye know yer da?”
He popped open a wineskin of ale, took a sip, then offered it to her.
She accepted it with a nod of thanks. “I was young, but my brother was on the battlefield with him when it happened. My da was an English knight.” She drank, leaning her head back, so her long, slender neck arched gracefully.
“Fighting the Scottish?” William surmised.
Kinsey lowered the wineskin and attached the dangling cork in the opening before handing it back to him. “Aye. We were living in England at the time.”
Her lip curled slightly.
“I take it ye dinna enjoy living there?” he pressed.
She scowled and gazed ahead at the muddy trail. “I didn’t like how they treated us after my da died. They wouldn’t sell us food, and they refused work to my mum. We had nothing—she was a widow with four small children, and not one of them offered aid.”
He couldn’t imagine Kinsey as a helpless child. Nothing about her seemed helpless. But then, he knew well the cruelties of the English, even if he’d never gone hungry as she had. “Bastards,” William muttered.
Kinsey’s fingers tightened perceptively on her reins. “Aye.”
The chirping songs of birds and the rhythmic thud of their horse’s hooves on the forest floor filled the space between them.
The sky began to darken as the sun they couldn’t see began to sink. They would be stopping to make camp soon. Which meant William needed to readjust the focus of their conversation.
“Why does yer brother work for an English earl?” He made the question sound like the idea had suddenly come to him, as though he hadn’t been thinking of it since the cave.
Except that he had.
Kinsey scoffed. “He’s got it in his head that he can be a knight like our da was.” She shook her head in obvious aggravation. “They’ll never accept him, but he’ll never stop hoping.”
“Ye dinna think we can get him to join us?” he asked.
She laughed at that. “Drake would never turn his back on the Earl of Werrick. Not for all the coin in the world.”
“Has he no’ ever considered being a knight for Scotland?”
Kinsey lifted a single shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t think he’s ever tried. He set his mind on an English knighthood and has never been drawn away since.”
“Even if they’re using him?” William rubbed at the back of his neck. “They’ll do that. Use one’s dreams against them in an effort to get anything they want.”
He let his words sink in before continuing. “We’re aiding the new king and restoring his kingdom. He will be verra grateful to those who come to his aid. I would no’ be surprised if he granted knighthoods to many of his loyal supporters.”
She didn’t reply, but then she didn’t need to. The seed had been sown.
If they came upon Drake again, William anticipated the conversation between brother and sister might go differently, and that Kinsey may persuade her brother to join them.
Having the detailed knowledge of someone who worked for the English would give William and his army a great advantage. And what could it hurt if it also helped a man finally achieve his dream?
Kinsey had been grateful for William’s company. Fib’s loss had been felt in the oppressive silence of the journey and made her heart ache more than she could bear. What was more, she couldn’t get the idea of Drake becoming a Scottish knight out of her head. Not after William rode ahead to plan out their stop with Duff nor when they made camp on the outskirts of a village just over the Scottish border. She saw to her horse and mulled over what Sir William had suggested.
If Drake helped them take back English land, he could finally have his dream. Her heart swelled at the thought.
She couldn’t remember her father. She’d been too young when he had died. But she did remember how Drake had worked so hard to ensure they didn’t starve. How he’d been younger than even Fib when he first joined the reivers. Kinsey knew what he did was brave but hadn’t fully appreciated the danger.
Not until now.
He had sacrificed everything to ensure their safety and comfort. Even his morals in running with reivers. And now, when his work turned to the English, who had caused them so much pain over the years. All to ensure his family could live.
But what if he didn’t have to?
What if he worked with Scotland instead?
She wished she could go back to that conversation they’d had at the tavern. That she could offer him the opportunity to join them, instead of returning to Werrick Castle.
Sir William approached as she finished feeding and watering her horse. “We’re going to the tavern for ale and a hot meal. Do ye want to join us?”
Kinsey considered the offer. She didn’t much care for taverns and all the drunk men inside.
As if sensing her hesitation, Sir William nodded toward Duff. “Otherwise, ye’ll be left with whatever he cooks up on the fire.” He grimaced.
Kinsey had to laugh at that. The night before had been a strange concoction of various plants Duff had found in the forest and cooked alongside roasted rabbit. The rabbit was good, tender meat and crisped skin. The forest plants, however, tasted exactly what one would expect forest plants to taste like. Dirt and disappointment.
She made a face. “Aye, I’ll come.”
William grinned, and her heart gave a funny little flip.
God help her if his charm was finally beginning to take effect.
They joined a group of William’s men and walked the short distance to the tavern. It was as the other had been, dank and dingy, the air thick with tallow smoke and the pungent, undeniable odor of unwashed bodies. There were a few patrons within, but their party filled the place.
The serving wenches immediately made their way to Sir William, fluttering their lashes and plumping their bosoms. It hadn’t bothered Kinsey before, but now she found every tittering giggle made the muscles along the back of her neck tighten.