about she married your father to secure peace between the Kincaids and the barbarians to the north. Elspeth told me.” She rushed at the end, hoping she didn't get Elspeth into trouble.
“Aye.” He nodded.
She watched him close his eyes. Clamping her lips tight, she waited while he silently said something. Inherently, she knew he was praying the coming year was a good one. Staring down at her gloved hands, she added her own prayers to his.
“You do me proud, milady.”
A pang of a foreign emotion chugged in her heart and her smile bloomed. Finishing her prayer, she exhaled slowly. Her gaze immediately sought his. “I could say the same about you.” She meant it.
He threw back his head and laughed. She was about to ask him what had him acting like an escapee from the asylum when he pulled her onto his lap and headed for the trail at a breakneck pace.
“What's up?” The whistle of an arrow slicing through the air had her clinging to him. “Maybe it was a wild shot.” Oh, please let it be a wild shot. A misguided hunter or a nearsighted local.
A sharp gasp and a quick inhalation hit her ears.
“It came from across the border.”
“I don't understand.”
“The Wulfson knows my practice of coming here to hunt for the Christmastide feast.”
“Are you saying he was aiming for you?”
“Keep your head down.”
She didn't breathe until they were halfway down the moor. “Jiminy Crickets. What was that all about?” She listened to the heavy thud of his heartbeat. Unlike the few romances she'd read, the sound of his heart beating didn't comfort her. If anything, it made her nervousness grow.
Iaen heaved a sigh. “I donnae know.”
“Did you hear it hit?” She knew she'd heard it slice through the air but hadn't seen it tear past her.
“Lass, the arrow is in my arm.”
“You can't be serious.” She tilted her gaze to his face. “Okay. Okay. I know, you don't jest.” Her gaze dashed everywhere and nowhere. “Why aren't you stopping?” she asked once they reached the base of the moor.
“I'll not have you in danger.”
“How could I be in danger? The hill separates us from them.”
“If they were to pursue us, the only thing between you and them is my back.”
“Stop the macho bull and stop the horse so I can see how bad the damage is.”
“Nay.”
“Nay?” Pig headed idiot . “Are we going to fight about this?”
“Only if you choose to order me to rein in.”
“What if I say pretty please?” She even turned on her best sickeningly sweet tone.
“Nay.”
“Iaen, what if you are really hurt? I couldn't find my way back to Castle Kincaid. I'll starve to death in a day.”
“Wife, calm thyself. You forget, I am never alone. There are at least half a dozen crofters watching us.”
“I don't see anybody.” Curling her fingers into the thick material covering his chest, she hung on for dear life. Fear gripped her heart. She couldn't take this. What if he died? Born beneath an unlucky star—yep, that was her. Born to watch the people she loved meet untimely deaths—that was her, too.
“That's because you are hiding your face against my cloak. If you'd but look.”
“Iaen, I'm scared.” Cautiously peeking to the side, she saw several men running toward them, all wearing the black, gold and green plaid of Clan Kincaid. Some carried long bows, arrows nocked, poised to fly. “Are we going back to the castle?” She willed him to tell her they were going home.
“Nay, we'll stay in the Laird's cottage tonight.”
“Milord,” a crofter called. “Did you see who shot at you?”
Iaen shook his head. “Assist my lady onto her horse and see she is taken to the Laird's cottage.”
“I won't leave you.” She gripped his cloak with all her might.
“Shh, I'll be only a few moments.” He tossed his reins to a farmer. Brushing his hand down her hair, he laid a kiss to her head. “Trust me, sweetling.”
***
With the crofter's help, Iaen managed to get Jenny to release
“Aye.” He nodded.
She watched him close his eyes. Clamping her lips tight, she waited while he silently said something. Inherently, she knew he was praying the coming year was a good one. Staring down at her gloved hands, she added her own prayers to his.
“You do me proud, milady.”
A pang of a foreign emotion chugged in her heart and her smile bloomed. Finishing her prayer, she exhaled slowly. Her gaze immediately sought his. “I could say the same about you.” She meant it.
He threw back his head and laughed. She was about to ask him what had him acting like an escapee from the asylum when he pulled her onto his lap and headed for the trail at a breakneck pace.
“What's up?” The whistle of an arrow slicing through the air had her clinging to him. “Maybe it was a wild shot.” Oh, please let it be a wild shot. A misguided hunter or a nearsighted local.
A sharp gasp and a quick inhalation hit her ears.
“It came from across the border.”
“I don't understand.”
“The Wulfson knows my practice of coming here to hunt for the Christmastide feast.”
“Are you saying he was aiming for you?”
“Keep your head down.”
She didn't breathe until they were halfway down the moor. “Jiminy Crickets. What was that all about?” She listened to the heavy thud of his heartbeat. Unlike the few romances she'd read, the sound of his heart beating didn't comfort her. If anything, it made her nervousness grow.
Iaen heaved a sigh. “I donnae know.”
“Did you hear it hit?” She knew she'd heard it slice through the air but hadn't seen it tear past her.
“Lass, the arrow is in my arm.”
“You can't be serious.” She tilted her gaze to his face. “Okay. Okay. I know, you don't jest.” Her gaze dashed everywhere and nowhere. “Why aren't you stopping?” she asked once they reached the base of the moor.
“I'll not have you in danger.”
“How could I be in danger? The hill separates us from them.”
“If they were to pursue us, the only thing between you and them is my back.”
“Stop the macho bull and stop the horse so I can see how bad the damage is.”
“Nay.”
“Nay?” Pig headed idiot . “Are we going to fight about this?”
“Only if you choose to order me to rein in.”
“What if I say pretty please?” She even turned on her best sickeningly sweet tone.
“Nay.”
“Iaen, what if you are really hurt? I couldn't find my way back to Castle Kincaid. I'll starve to death in a day.”
“Wife, calm thyself. You forget, I am never alone. There are at least half a dozen crofters watching us.”
“I don't see anybody.” Curling her fingers into the thick material covering his chest, she hung on for dear life. Fear gripped her heart. She couldn't take this. What if he died? Born beneath an unlucky star—yep, that was her. Born to watch the people she loved meet untimely deaths—that was her, too.
“That's because you are hiding your face against my cloak. If you'd but look.”
“Iaen, I'm scared.” Cautiously peeking to the side, she saw several men running toward them, all wearing the black, gold and green plaid of Clan Kincaid. Some carried long bows, arrows nocked, poised to fly. “Are we going back to the castle?” She willed him to tell her they were going home.
“Nay, we'll stay in the Laird's cottage tonight.”
“Milord,” a crofter called. “Did you see who shot at you?”
Iaen shook his head. “Assist my lady onto her horse and see she is taken to the Laird's cottage.”
“I won't leave you.” She gripped his cloak with all her might.
“Shh, I'll be only a few moments.” He tossed his reins to a farmer. Brushing his hand down her hair, he laid a kiss to her head. “Trust me, sweetling.”
***
With the crofter's help, Iaen managed to get Jenny to release
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