Cassian (The Immortal Highland Centurions #2) - Jayne Castel Page 0,22
If she wanted an opportunity to gain Cassian’s attention, this was it. Away from Dunnottar, they could form an attachment much easier. Also, away from her mother, Aila could behave differently. Perhaps this would allow her to break free of her crippling shyness.
“Twenty isn’t enough!” Iona De Keith twisted her wedding band once more. “Ye will be going straight into the wolf’s den in Stirling.”
Aila inhaled deeply. “Please, Ma … we wouldn’t be going if it was that dangerous.”
“Ye have never been away from Dunnottar. Ye have no idea how treacherous it is beyond these walls. Look what happened to yer sister!”
Aila straightened up, her smile fading as irritation bubbled within her. “Heather needed to leave Dunnottar,” she pointed out, her tone sharpening. “It was the making of her.”
Her mother stifled a gasp. “What nonsense is this?”
“It’s not nonsense. Heather learned of the world, and I wish to do the same.”
Iona’s face darkened. “What foolery has yer sister been filling yer head with? I will have words with her.”
“Heather hasn’t said anything to me,” Aila countered. She wished her mother would go away and let her finish packing. They were to leave at first light the following day, and there was still much to organize. “I am more than capable of drawing my own conclusions and making my own choices, Ma.”
“Foolish lass,” her mother cried, advancing on her. “I’ll not have ye travel to Stirling. Edward Longshanks is there. He’s likely to have ye all murdered in yer beds!”
“Enough, Ma.” Aila grasped her mother’s hands and held them fast. She’d rarely seen her this agitated. And now that they stood close, she realized that her mother’s grey-green eyes, so similar to Heather’s, gleamed with unshed tears.
She’s scared for me.
“Ma,” Aila murmured softly. “I know ye only wish to keep me safe, but ye know ye can’t.”
Her mother swallowed, her jaw clenching as she sought to keep her agitation in check. Staring into her eyes, Aila screwed up her courage. It was odd, but she’d always let her mother cow her, had always let her decide what was best for her.
Not anymore.
“Ye can’t keep shielding me,” Aila continued, dogged now that her mind was made up. “I’m no longer that sickly bairn ye used to fret over … these days I’m no more fragile than Heather is.”
Her mother sniffed. “Heather is a lot stronger than ye, Aila … she always has been. She takes after me.”
X
HIGH SPIRITS
AILA TIGHTENED THE palfrey’s girth and knocked aside the horse’s nose when it took a nip at her.
“That’s enough, Dusty,” she chastised the dainty dun mare. Even her ill-tempered mount couldn’t dim her excitement this morning; she’d awoken long before dawn with a wide smile upon her face that still hadn’t faded. “I know ye don’t like this, but it’s necessary … or I’ll end up hanging under yer belly.”
In response, the palfrey flattened her ears back and took another swipe, teeth snapping.
“Careful there.” An amused male voice cut in as a hand took hold of the reins and pulled Dusty’s snaking head back. “She’ll take a bite out of your arm if you don’t watch out.”
Warmth flowed over Aila, and her breath caught.
Turning, she met Cassian’s frank gaze.
“Thank ye, Captain,” she murmured, lowering her eyelashes in a way she’d seen other women do. Jean said that men found it attractive. “Dusty’s in an ill-temper this morning.”
“This mare always is,” he replied evenly, not responding to her demure look. “Go on … finish tightening the girth while I hold her still.”
Aila did as bid, cinching the girth up another two notches before turning to the captain once more. ‘Thank ye,” she repeated, offering him a gentle smile.
He returned the smile, handed her the reins, and stepped back. “Ready yerself, Aila,” he said with a brisk nod. “We’re about to ride out.”
Aila watched him walk off, checking the other horses and riders amassed at the western end of the lower ward. Her gaze feasted on him, taking in the breadth of his shoulders, emphasized by the plaid cloak he wore, and the way the wind ruffled his short hair.
Gusts tore across the bailey, snagging at the manes and tails of the horses and making them skittish. Around Aila, the warriors were dressed for travel in quilted tunics, chainmail leggings, and iron helmets. Each man carried a circular wooden shield, and a dirk at his hip. Many bore heavy broadswords. They all wore cloaks and sashes of the De Keith plaid.