Page 43 of Katie's Highlander (Highland Protector 3)
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Katie headed straight for the practice field. “But I always try to fight my own battles. More enjoyable that way.”
“Aye, m’lady.”
The excited anticipation in Flora’s tone strengthened Katie’s resolve as she took a position on the field that was a few yards down from Gerta.
The infuriating woman glanced her way and gave a half-heartedgo to hellcurtsy that perfectly communicated exactly what she thought of Katie.
Oh, fuck you, bitch!Katie seriously considered firing off an explicit hand signal but restrained herself. Who knew if it would be understood and appreciated for what it represented. Instead, she gave Gerta a superiorI’ve got him, and you don’tsmirk.
Ramsay spotted her, held up a hand to stop Brant, and headed her way.
“Shall I run and fetch ye a seat, m’lady?” Flora flitted around her like a dog obsessed with playing fetch and waiting for his ball to be thrown. She finally stopped in one spot for a fleeting second, leaned close, and whispered, “Courses weaken a woman, ye ken? I dinna wish ye t’become faint. I can fetch ye a seat and a lovely tankard of honeyed wine. Ye barely touched yer plate this mornin’.”
Katie waved Flora away. “No. Not now. I’m fine.” Thanks to another cup of birch bark tea this morning, the only ill effect she currently had because of her period was the uncomfortable displeasure of walking around with what felt like a queen-size mattress of folded rags shoved between her thighs and pinned to her chemise to hold it in place. She’d never take a tampon for granted again.
Ramsay finally reached her, hesitating half a moment before pecking a quick kiss to her cheek. A brief flash of last night’s fear crossed his face, but he quickly recovered. “Are ye better this mornin’, dear one?”
“I was until I found out that Clan Ross dumped their garbage in our yard and left.”
“Aye, that they did.” Ramsay spared a momentary glance in Gerta’s direction then quickly returned his full attention to Katie. “But instinct tells me this may be why we were sent here—t’help the lad since he bears the blood of a protector.”
“Now you’ve got my interest. Tell me more.”
“The lad can ne’er be a protector because of his mother’s bloodline. She wasna chosen.”
“What exactly do you mean bychosen?”
Ramsay smiled as he sidled closer, scooped up Katie’s hand, and pressed a lingering kiss to her upturned palm. “The goddesses have been known t’meddle quite a bit in a protector’s life, ye ken?”
“Yeah…I got that part already.” Katie shivered, the resulting gush of heat blasting through her nether regions having nothing to do with the weather or her period. It was Ramsay’s more pronounced brogue whenever he lowered his voice to share something privately. Triggered thattake me nowfeeling every time. She struggled to overcome the eargasm he’d just caused and return to a more reasonable frame of mind. “So, you’re saying that the goddesses picked your sisters-in-law for both your brothers?”
“Aye…although, I must say they’ve grown quite a bit subtler with their methods since they placed m’family in the twenty-first century. So subtle, we tended to forget.” He nodded in Brant’s direction.
“So, what’s going to happen to Brant? Is he going to be forever known as the protector’s bastard?” What a shame. From the gossip she’d gleaned from Flora, the kid was…nice. He just needed a chance—and he also needed to be rid of his damn mother.
Katie shielded her eyes from the sun’s glare and studied the young man, not missing his long-suffering look of embarrassment as his mother shamelessly flirted with the smithy and the man’s young apprentice as they brought fresh swords and spears to the practice field. Ramsay had said earlier that once they’d completed whatever task the goddesses had assigned they’d be slingshotted back to the future. That boy could be a piece of the puzzle. “He seems good-hearted and there’s no doubt that he’s ashamed of his mother.” Still shielding her eyes from the sun, she turned to Ramsay. “Papa always said, ‘you can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your relatives.’ I’m pretty sure that applies here.”
Flora wiggled her way between Ramsay and Katie, her look ofI’ve got a delicious secretfirmly in place. “The stable boy o’erheard Gerta and her son.” Flora paused a moment, fire flashing her eyes. “She thinks t’unseat ye, m’lady, and claim Himself and yer position for her own. Brant said he’d ne’er allow it and Gerta beat him with one of the leather bridles. Told him he’d amount t’less than horseshit if it werena for her. The stable boy couldna believe such a braw muscular lad just stood there and took such a beatin’ but I dinna doubt it a bit m’self. The vicious whore’s more than likely been about such meanness since the lad was a wee-un. He doesna ken any better than to take hismáthair’s abuse in silence.”
“That sorry-ass bitch.” No wonder Brant had no self-esteem if he’d grown up in that atmosphere. Beaten by his mother and shunned as a bastard by Clan Ross. It was a wonder the kid hadn’t run away from Gerta a long time ago. Of course, knowing Gerta, she’d probably played theif you desert me I’ll die, and it’ll be on your headcard to keep the boy in line. Shifting her focus to the foul woman still bouncing around the men, Katie lowered her voice. “That cesspit offer is sounding better by the minute—just for the bitch, though. Not for the boy.”
“Nay, wife.” Ramsay gave her a narrow-eyed look that spoke volumes then turned to the young maid. “Flora.” His tone was sharp and stern—more like a barking growl than words. “See to a seat and some wine for yer mistress. She was recently ill and doesna need t’stand o’er long in this hot sun.”
Flora stole a quick glance in Katie’s direction, opened her mouth to argue but then apparently thought better of it and snapped her jaws shut. She gave Ramsay a quick curtsy then rushed away to see to his bidding.
“That was uncalled for.” Katie felt protective of Flora. The friendly, funny, little maid had stumbled and gossiped her way firmly into Katie’s heart. “Don’t pick on Flora just because you’re irritated with me.”
“Ye must take care at what ye hint at wife. That wee numpty will take yer offhanded words as permission to commit murder, ye ken?”
Ramsay’s intense scowl triggered a very small twinge of guilt over the Gerta-in-the-cesspit reference. An extremely small twinge. Might’ve even been gas from last night’s supper. The more Katie thought about it, the more she decided that any sense of guilt was wasted on Gerta.
“Fine,” she grudgingly agreed, adding an eyeroll to make sure Ramsay knew she wasn’t a pushover.
“And ’tis the lass’s job t’care for ye and letting ye roast in the blazing hot sun after being ill is no’ takin’ care of ye.”
Ramsay’s scolding tone was getting on her last nerve. She wasn’t some delicate fainty type that needed to be coddled.Good grief, I’ve been riding this menstrual dragon for years. I’ve got this.
“Mistress Macklemurry is already thinkin’ to train up someone else. She’s decided Flora be too young and flighty t’tend ye properly,” he added with a superior tone that broke the camel’s back.
