Cassian (The Immortal Highland Centurions #2) - Jayne Castel Page 0,25
a little.”
Aila glimpsed the knowing look in her mistress’s eyes. “Are ye sure ye don’t mind?” she asked meekly.
“Of course not.” Lady Gavina waved her on.
Not hesitating further, lest her courage fail, Aila steered Dusty out of the column. She slackened the reins just a little, and the mare was off, racing up to the head of the line, kicking her heels behind her.
The horse’s exuberance nearly unseated Aila. When she reached the head of the column, where Cassian and the banner-bearers led the way just in front of the laird, her arm muscles were burning from preventing Dusty from careening forward in a flat gallop.
Cassian glanced her way as she drew Dusty up next to his magnificent liver-bay courser. “Aila … what are you doing up here?”
It wasn’t a warm welcome. His tone was clipped, and a frown accompanied the question.
“Apologies, Captain,” Aila gasped. “My mount has a mind of her own this morning.”
“She really is too much for you,” Cassian observed, his frown deepening. “I’ll have to speak to your father about getting you a quieter horse upon our return home.”
His words stung. Aila wanted to be respected as a competent rider. She wanted Cassian to look upon her with admiration, not with barely concealed frustration.
Suddenly, the plan to force them into closer proximity through riding up the column to join him seemed foolish.
I’m not sure I should have heeded Lady Gavina.
Captain Gaius took his role seriously, as any warrior would. He didn’t need a goose-brained woman distracting him.
“I’m sorry,” Aila murmured, suddenly feeling a bit foolish. “I’ll pull back.”
“No need,” he replied, his tone abrupt now. Unfastening a lead-rope from behind his saddle, he guided his horse up next to Dusty and fastened the rope to her bit. “This should help keep her in check.”
Heat rose to Aila’s cheeks. She now heartily wished she’d stayed with the other women farther back in the column. He was going to lead her like a child. And not only that, but he looked irritated about it.
XI
PROGRESS
“DO YE ENJOY living at Dunnottar, Captain?”
As soon as the question left her lips, Aila cringed. All the things she could have asked Cassian, and she’d chosen the blandest question of the lot.
However, Cassian had the manners to at least favor her with a polite smile. “Yes … I’m fortunate indeed to live in such a beautiful part of Scotland,” he replied.
“Ye are from Spain though,” she said, drinking in the handsome, if stern, lines of his face. “I have heard that it’s a bonny place where the sun shines all year.”
Cassian’s smile widened at that, and Aila’s embarrassment eased.
“I’m from Galicia … in the north,” he replied. “It still gets cold winters.”
“What’s it like … yer home?”
Cassian’s smile faded, and he shifted his gaze to the road ahead. They’d left the rolling hills surrounding Dunnottar and Stonehaven behind and now rode into the wooded foothills. The bulk of large, forested mountains reared up to the west—marking the beginning of the Highlands. A chill wind buffeted the party, cold for the time of year.
“I don’t really remember,” he murmured.
Aila frowned. What an odd response. “Have ye been away a long while?”
Cassian nodded. “I became a soldier when I was twenty and left my homeland as soon as I was able.” He paused there, glancing back at her. “I had no one left in Spain anyway. I was an orphan … my parents died of a pestilence when I was barely five winters old.”
Aila’s breathing hitched, her chest aching at the thought of losing one’s parents so young. “What happened to ye after they died?”
“I lived wild … scavenging and thieving like a rat until I was old enough to enlist.”
“And what brought ye to Scotland?”
Aila knew she was interrogating the man, yet it was hard to stem the questions that poured forth. For years now, she’d been awaiting this conversation. And after a frosty start, when she’d appeared at the head of the column, he’d eventually thawed.
Cassian’s gaze met hers. “I came here as a mercenary.”
“And ye decided to stay?”
His mouth quirked. “It would seem so.”
Aila held his gaze, even though shyness suddenly rose up within her and she had to fight the urge to look away. Jean—who seemed so much more worldly than her—had said that eye contact was a clear signal to a man that a lass was interested in him.
The moment drew out, and still they looked at each other.
Eventually, it was Cassian who glanced away first.