Part 4 (2/2)
Cat realized the man couldn't understand Lochlan's Norman French through his thick brogue.
She stepped forward to smooth the matter between them. ”We need to stable the horses for the night, good sir. He wishes you to give them extra oats.”
”Then why didn't he say that?”
Lochlan's scowl deepened as the man took his money and left with the horses. ”'Tis what I said.”
Cat had to force herself not to laugh at his ire. She was certain Lochlan wouldn't appreciate it in the least. ”Aye, but you have quite an accent there and I'm sure he's not heard it often.”
The man returned to them and cleared his throat before he spoke to Cat. ”By the way, my lady, you might want to tell folks he's mute and speak for him. We don't like foreigners here, especially the English.”
Lochlan's nostrils flared. ”I'm not English,” he said between clenched teeth.
Cat feigned a seriousness she didn't feel. ”In his world there's no difference between you and them.”
”There's a lot of difference.”
”I know that, but to a French peasant, you're just another stranger and English or Scottish makes no difference.”
A tic worked in his jaw.
Cat patted him on the arm. ”Come, my lord, and I'll see about getting us a place to eat and rest.”
”You're enjoying this, aren't you?”
”More than you'll ever know.”
Lochlan watched as she flounced on ahead of him, gloating in her smugness. Truth be told, he'd had quite a few problems with people not understanding his French even though he was fluent in it. It angered him that he was now forced to rely on a woman who could barely tolerate him.
As they neared what appeared to be a small hostel, he heard a boy pleading in the tanner's shop.
”Please, sir, my father will be ruthlessly angry. He told me that he needed proper payment this time.”
”And I've given you your payment, boy. Now get out before I thrash you.”
”But sir--”
The boy's voice was cut off by the sound of a slap. An instant later, a child no older than ten stumbled out, holding his cheek. Lanky and small, his brown eyes were bright with tears.
Lochlan pulled the boy to a stop as he started past. ”Are you all right?”
He recoiled. ”Please, my lord. I have nothing for you to take.”
Lochlan shook his head. ”I don't want to take from you, lad. I just want to know if you were dealt with fairly or not?”
Cat paused as she realized Lochlan wasn't behind her. She hastened back to find him with a boy, outside a small shop.
The boy's cheek was bright crimson and bore the outline of a large hand. That sight alone was enough to infuriate her.
His voice trembled as he spoke to Lochlan. ”I brought the hides as my father bade me, but the tanner only paid half his usual fee.”
Before she could blink, Lochlan took the boy inside the store to confront the owner. She followed after them, but Lochlan didn't seem to know she was even there as he faced the tanner.
The man's eyes widened as he took in the size of Lochlan and the presence of his sheathed sword.
”The child says you be owing him payment.”
The tanner's gaze narrowed angrily. ”What lies you telling, boy?”
”None, sir, please. My father will beat me if I bring home less than what he expects.”
The tanner curled his lip as he threw a stack of hides at the boy. ”You're lucky I paid you anything at all. These are worthless to me. Your drunken father ruined most of them. Now get out of my sight before I have you arrested for theft.”
The boy tucked his chin to his chest and turned, but Lochlan stopped him. He knelt before the child. ”Let me see your coins.”
Tears welled in the boy's eyes as he opened his hand to show a single copper coin.
”And how much more are you supposed to have?”
”A franc, my lord.”
Lochlan loosened the strings of his purse, then handed the child two francs.
The boy looked at him in disbelief. ”Thank you, my lord. May G.o.d bless you.”
Lochlan inclined his head before the child ran out of the store. Then he stood and turned a terrifying glower toward the tanner, who took two steps back. He threw several coins at the man.
”That's for your charity, but you need to better counsel your hand. Remember, a dog will only take so many kicks before it turns vicious. The boy you abuse today could well become the man who will return the favor to you when he's grown.”
Cat stepped back as Lochlan stalked past her. She met the tanner's eyes and saw the fear he held. It was doubtful he'd ever strike another child. Grateful for that, she rushed after Lochlan.
”That was very kind of you.”
”Don't patronize me, Catarina.”
She pulled him to a stop. ”I never patronize anyone. What you did was extremely kind. I'm sure you have no idea what that single act meant to that child.”
”Believe me, I do know.”
There was something about the conviction in his voice that made her want to hug him. If she didn't know better, she'd think that he knew exactly how that abused child felt. But she'd seen the love his family had for him. They were so close that there was no way he could comprehend the misery that child most likely knew.
Still, he reminded her much of a wounded lion and she didn't understand why. He was so stern and rigid...so powerful that the thought of him being wounded by anything was incongruous.
Even though Ewan was physically a much larger man than Lochlan, he lacked the lethal quality that seemed ingrained in the MacAllister.
And Lochlan was even more rigid now than he'd been earlier.
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