Page 48 of The Knight’s Reward

Neill closed the space between them, his breath smelling of the mint she’d found on the table.

His mouth covered hers, and she welcomed it.

This time, she knew what to do. Opening for him, Kathryn grasped the nape of his neck as he pulled her close. This kiss, more frenzied than the first one, held all the promise of his vow to her. Now that she’d shared her secrets, she felt closer to him, their connection sweeter.

“Kathryn,” he murmured against her mouth. “I’ve so much to tell you.”

Pulling back just slightly, she looked into his eyes. It struck her that she was nothing more than a serving maid for now. Neill was a third son, aye, but he was also brother to an earl. His family one of the greatest borderland clans in Scotland.

And she didn’t know how long it might take, finding her father’s murderer. This, between them, could never be. And she knew that. Accepted it, even. But when he looked at her as if no one else in the world mattered . . .

When he cupped her face, Kathryn closed her eyes.

“Nay, open them.”

She did.

“Your eyes are beautiful. Like you.”

She’d been told as much many, many times. But she’d never paid the words any mind. Not from her father, who was obligated to say such things. Not from her suitors, who said the same about countless other ladies at court.

“I believe you.”

He chuckled—a low, rich sound that reverberated through her. “You should. I’m not in the practice of saying things I don’t mean.”

She smiled.

“I told my brother.”

It took her a moment, but when she absorbed his words, Kathryn pushed him away in horror.

“Neill. No.”

“Kathryn, listen to me. You trust me. You’d never have told me if you did not. And I trust my brother with my life. He’ll not say a word to anyone. I made a vow to you I intend to keep. But to do that, I will need the help of others I can trust. But you have to understand, Bothwell is dangerous.” He scowled, his jaw flexing. “Please do not speak to him alone.”

“Others? Please, no. Who else have you told?”

She’d made a mistake. Telling him had been a mistake.

“I’d be grateful if you’d stay up here, just for a time. You said yourself that Douglas might recognize you. Bryce and I will speak to Toren, and—”

“You propose to tell the lord of Brockburg my secret?”

“And his wife.”

Kathryn spun away, panicked now. This would not do. She was to tell no one but Magge, and now Neill and his brother knew, and it sounded as if he aimed to tell half of Brockburg.

“Nay. I cannot let you do that.”

“Kathryn.” He grabbed her hand, his manner urgent. “Listen to me. Bothwell is one of the most powerful men in Scotland. One who very likely had your father killed.”

Her eyes widened. “You suspect it too?”

She thought it more likely someone from the English court wanted her father dead. But the very man who had seen him last? Aye, he could just as likely be the culprit.

“I don’t know, but it’s certainly possible. The situation is beyond suspicious. But to learn the truth, we cannot face this alone. If you confront him, do you really believe he will confess all he knows?”

“No,” she admitted. “I never thought he would, but I thought his reaction might tell me what I wished to know. My father always said you need only to look into someone’s eyes to know if they’re being truthful. If I knew . . .”