Donnel's Promise by Anna Mackenzie Page A

‘Keep it. You’re supposed to apply it morning and night. My cousin Minna makes it. She gave me a supply when I took a tumble from a horse I was training last autumn.’
    ‘You didn’t use it?’
    ‘I did. Judging by the amount she gave me, she must have assumed it wouldn’t be my only hurt.’ His smile was rueful.
    ‘Nolan, where are we going?’ The question had been preying on her mind since they’d crossed the river.
    ‘In the first instance, Minna’s farm in the north downs.’ He held her gaze. ‘Havreport isn’t safe until we discover who betrayed you to Westlaw.’
    ‘And how will we do that?’
    ‘We can worry about that once you’re safely in LeMarc.How we get you there—’
    ‘Do I have a say in this? Or am I just an item of baggage to be delivered?’ Her tone was sharper than she’d intended, but he might at least have consulted her.
    He answered stiffly. ‘If my plan is not to your liking, my lady, I can deliver you back to Havreport — though that would likely cost Lyse and Ciaran their lives.’
    It was a low blow, and it knocked the breath from her lungs. Nolan turned abruptly and went to ready the horses.
    They rode on in silence, their shadows stretching ahead until the sky turned a dark fiery orange above high, pink-bellied cloud, then slept the night in a barn.
    Waking to the clank of buckets and the sweet smell of nanny goats brought a rush of warmth to Risha’s chest, quickly lost as Nolan gave thanks to the startled farm daughters and hurried them on.
    The countryside they rode through varied between verdant rolling hills and upland plains, the hills supporting livestock — sheep more often than goats — while grain swayed across the flatlands.
    Tension prickled between them. By midday Risha was tired of it. When the track they followed widened she kicked Mica forward to ride at Nolan’s side.
    ‘Captain, have we far to go to our destination?’
    ‘Another two days.’ He eyed her warily, and when no comment followed her first, ventured a neutral topic. ‘How’s your shoulder?’
    ‘Improving. Your cousin’s ointment seems to have helped.’ A sheep grazing the verge raised its head to study them then trotted away. Risha cleared her throat. ‘Our conversation at the river yesterday: I’m sorry if—’
    ‘The apology is mine. I should have discussed the plan with you sooner.’
    ‘A mutual apology then.’ She let an easy silence rest between them before broaching her next topic. ‘The north downs lie at the western end of CaledonWater, do they not?’
    ‘Cupped by the lake and the curve of the El to the north, and running south almost to Whitelaw.’
    ‘So where are we now?’
    ‘About a day’s ride from the rise of the El.’
    ‘At Leighton?’
    ‘Yes.’ Wariness had crept back into his face.
    ‘This farm we’re going to: where exactly does it lie?’
    ‘Exactly? Four miles south of the eastern curve of Merren Bay on the shore of CaledonWater.’
    She squinted as she tried to remember Pelon’s maps, but could not recall Merren Bay. ‘I don’t know it,’ she admitted. ‘What town is it near?’
    ‘None. That’s part of its charm.’
    ‘If we’re two days from this farm and a day from Leighton …’ She paused, knowing he wouldn’t like it. ‘Might we make a detour? It would give us news, and perhaps allow me to get a message to Lord Donnel.’
    ‘From Leighton?’
    She nodded.
    ‘It’s a small place. There’s a guardhouse, but it’s unlikely we’d find an aviary with pigeons homed to LeMarc.’
    ‘A rider then. Or some combination.’
    He flicked his reins to dislodge a fly from his horse’s neck. ‘Word should have reached Havreport by now. Which will probably mean a bird has already been sent to Lord Donnel.’
    ‘With exactly the opposite information to that which he needs to hear.’
    He glanced sideways. ‘Why do I feel I’m being managed?’
    ‘You’re not, Captain Nolan. You’re simply engaging in shared decision-making.