wasn’t going well. He pulled himself together. “I’m afraid we canna stop so often today.”
She blinked her eyes and he felt as if she’d kicked him in the guts.
“How often may I stop?”
He wanted to look away, but he knew he shouldn’t. He needed to be stern. “We will stop twice.”
Now her wide, sea-foam gaze grew darker—like a storm coming in quickly from the horizon. “You expect me to give up the rest of my prayers?”
He shook his head slightly. “No. Ye can pray on yer horse.”
“I cannot.”
His move. Her gaze on him was steady, almost unblinking. What more could he say? That he wanted to get to Dundonald as soon as possible? To be away from her? He opened his mouth to speak.
“Is that all, Captain?”
No storm, but it left glaciers in its place.
He didn’t want to keep looking at her, but he couldn’t look away. “That is all.”
She kept quiet and waited for him to lead the way.
He felt like hell. He needed to get back to Dundonald, back to his duties that didn’t include her. The less he spoke to her, the less he would miss the sound of her voice.
He hated himself for being held captive by a novice of the church. Thankfully, it wasn’t too late to forget her, resist her. He barely knew her. He didn’t love her. He was taken with her, drawn to her. Nothing more. There was nothing between them.
Nothing but a kiss.
A kiss like nothing Cecilia had ever made him feel. He wiped his brow. How would he tell John that he did not want to wed Miss Birchet? How would he tell the king that he would not wed her? He would go home to Invergarry.
He wanted to laugh at being so vexed over the novice. The solution was simple. Be truthful with King David, John, and with Cecilia, and then leave Dundonald for a while, mayhap longer.
He’d suggest Mac take his place. His friend would make a good captain. He could take Silene back to St. Patrice’s.
They returned to the camp and helped clean up before setting out again.
As it had so many times since he met her, his gaze wandered back to her as she rode her horse. He creased his brows. What was she doing? She held her reins in her raised palms. Was she praying?
He continued watching her with her eyes closed, honeyed lips moving in silent, secret prayer. She wasn’t paying mind to her horse or where it was going.
Instinctively, he moved closer, his muscles anticipating.
“Lass?”
She didn’t answer him.
He didn’t like this.
“Lass!” he said with more command.
She opened her eyes and, for an instant, looked completely confused about where she was. She lost her balance.
He rushed to her and caught her in his arms. He didn’t pause to torture himself further but set her down in his saddle, between his thighs.
Fool! He was a fool. He should have had Mac or Morgann do this. But having her unveiled head beneath his chin, her hips wedged between his, was the punishment he deserved.
She went directly back to her prayers, unfazed by him—having no trouble at all being so close to him.
He held her with one arm coiled loosely around her waist. He held the reins in his other hand.
“I dinna think—”
“Shh! We will speak later.”
He could do that. Waiting would give him time to think about what he should say when she was ready to speak.
A moment later, she lifted one of her arms in the air.
He moved his head to see the road.
He heard her sniff and looked at her over her shoulder. He was horrified to see her face wet with tears. He wanted to know what it was that had made her cry. But he kept silent—for whatever it was, she chose not to share it with him.
When she finished and opened her eyes, they rose to his. “I am well—better.”
“Aye?” he asked with concern in his eyes.
She sighed. “There is a feeling of coming gloom…” she paused to consider her words. “Someplace. I do not know. ’Tis a feeling of danger.”
Danger? His grandsire’s words haunted him. “D’ye think ’tis the Lord tellin’ ye not to go to Dundonald?”
“But I must go. This is the reason I was sent to St. Patrice’s from the beginning. My uncle never made any pretense about why I was put into a priory. I must see to this or he will cease caring for my parents.”
“Perhaps at the cost of yer life?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “You