“And who told you that? Your mother?”
“And my father.”
“And the pastor, too, I’m sure.”
She ate another bite of pie. “So I guess you’re an expert on love, too, as well as on how to hide from the law.” She thought maybe her remark would make him clam up again, but it didn’t seem to bother him.
“I know when I feel love, yes. So what did your mother tell you to do? Get to know a man before you marry him?”
“Of course.”
“As she did your father?”
“She knew him for years before she married him,” Cay said, narrowing her eyes at him. “You seem to know a lot about my family. Did Uncle T.C. tell you about us?”
“Some, yes. Do you think you’re finished now, or should I make another raid on the tavern? They might have a pound or two of beef left.”
“That’s enough, but I hope you plan to protect that half of the pie.”
“With my life.” She watched as he put the pie in its plate back into the bag, tied a rope around it, and hoisted it into a tree.
When he came back to the little tent, she asked him how he knew to do that.
“Always protect your food, lass. I’m surprised your Scots relatives didn’t teach you that.”
“When I visit them, I stay in a castle, not outside.” As she spoke, it began to rain and the air cooled. She pulled the cloak around her and drew her knees up. It had grown dark while they ate, and now she was isolated with this man she hardly knew.
“Are you going back to being afraid of me, lass?” he asked softly.
She straightened her spine. “Why would I be afraid of a weak old man like you? What were we talking about?”
“Your experience of courting,” he said quickly, his voice full of laughter.
“I’m glad I can entertain you, but, as a matter of fact, I went to Charleston to consider three marriage proposals.” She was pleased when he looked at her in astonishment.
“Three?”
“Did you think that men don’t want me? Just because you think I’m useless doesn’t mean—”
“Are you telling me that you can’t make up your mind which of three men you want to marry?”
His tone told her he thought this was an odd thing, maybe even that it was wrong, but she had no idea why. “Yes,” she said hesitantly. “They’re all good men, and—”
“But what about passion?” he asked vehemently.
Cay was glad the darkness covered her blush. “If you’re talking about what a man and a woman do when they’re alone, I can assure you that I know all about that. I’ve spent my life around animals and boys. They’re a dirty bunch of creatures, and by that I mean the boys, not the animals.” He was staring at her with his eyes wide. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Turning away for a moment, Alex shook his head as though to clear it. “Do any of the three men make your blood boil?”
“My blood boil? What a ridiculous thing to say. No, they don’t make my blood do anything except what it normally does. You know, I think we should get some sleep.” She stretched out her legs in the torn stockings and tried to compose her mind to go to sleep, but she’d had hours of napping and was restless. Besides, he still seemed to be waiting for an answer. “They’re all good men, and they can provide for my future and that of our children. I don’t see what’s wrong—” She broke off because he gave a snort of such derision that she raised up on an elbow to look at him. He had stretched out on the damp grass, with no covering over his thin clothing, his back to her. “And what does that mean?”
“Nothing, lass. Go to sleep.”
She sat up. “No, I want to know what you meant by your hateful little snort.”
“Snort?” he murmured, seeming to be amused by what she’d said. “It was no ‘snort,’ just a sound I make when I hear something so unbelievable that I can’t even understand it.”
“If you don’t tell me what you mean I’ll . . .”