“Leave it outside the door,” she yelled.

“I also have a gift for ye, Ella.” His frown relaxed. “Are ye in need of assistance?”

“No,” she said, and he could imagine her snapping gray eyes trying to skewer him through the oak. “What I need is to be released from Girnigoe and for you to leave Clan Sutherland alone.”

She may as well have asked to have wings to fly. “I will not bother ye,” Cain said. “I want only to deliver my gift and your food.” And for ye to surrender long enough to marry me. He had boasted to Gideon he could convince her within the three weeks that the banns were posted. And he would see the challenge won.

He had changed into a fresh white tunic and clean kilt after bathing, and the key to the door sat tucked into his sash. As if reading his mind, she yelled again. “Do not pretend that you don’t have a key to the door.”

What did that mean? Of course he had a key. “Do ye want me to come in with my key?”

“Do what you want, Sinclair. Leave the food and gift or use your key. I will not be letting you into my cage.”

Needles pierced his head, startling him so that he bumped his forehead into the frame of the door. “Blast, ye wee beastie.”

Enough of this. Leaving the cat to cling to his head, Cain fished the iron key out of his sash and jammed it into the lock. The kitten flexed her other paw, jabbing him with more needles. The key turned, and he pushed the door inward.

Ella stood wrapped in the blanket from her bed, warmth from the fire filling the small room. She watched him warily. “My gift is misbehaving,” he said, his teeth clamped together as he tried to force a smile. It felt like a grimace.

Cain bent his knees to lower enough so that he could walk through the small doorway with the kitten hissing on his head. The tray wobbled slightly as he entered, but he kept his gaze on Ella’s face.

Her glare melted into a look of surprise. For a long moment, she stared at the two of them. Cain waited, and the kitten pricked his scalp again, making his eye twitch as he tried to hold his smile.

Walking forward, he set the tray on a small table near the hearth. “A gift for ye, Ella. The kitten is the smallest of her litter and has weaned from her mother. The other barn cats are not letting her have as much food, so she needs a protector, someone to make sure she eats.”

“I…I suppose I can watch her…while I am here. You said it is a her, a girl?” Ella moved closer, and the smell of the floral soap Merida had given her floated from her wet hair that was twisted up in a bathing sheet.