Quest of the Highlander (Crowns & Kilts #5) - Cynthia Wright Page 0,41
fantasy of running away with her splendid, handfasted husband.
They rode for hours, pausing only to let Chaucer rest and drink from streams that rushed by. Nora kept waiting for Lennox to turn onto a better road so that they might find proper lodging for the night, but they continued on rutted, muddy tracks, the only sign of civilization being the occasional thatched roof of a croft house in the distance.
Finally, feeling the damp chill through her cloak, Nora spoke. “Do you never intend that we should travel on a real road?”
Chaucer had slowed to negotiate a rocky stretch in front of them, and Lennox took that opportunity to look back, his face inches away from Nora’s. “What did ye have in mind?”
He sounded almost amused, which irked her. “I’m certain you must know what I mean! A road! A proper thoroughfare that passes through villages, where we might find an inn to offer us a warm meal and a clean bed.” Nora paused and widened her eyes for emphasis.
Lennox laughed as a gust of wet wind nearly took off his cap of tartan wool. “Do ye imagine there is such a thing nearby? This is Scotland, lass. In the Highlands, there are neither roads nor inns.” He spoke the two words as if they were vastly amusing to him.
She gave a soft gasp of disbelief. “A tavern, then, with a meager chamber for let.”
“Nay. None of those either, at least not between Stirling and Oban.”
“But where, then, shall we sleep?”
“Oh, I will think of something.” Lennox smiled in a way that made her feel warm. His eyes rested on her mouth and she flushed.
“What is it?” Nora put a hand up to her lower lip. “A blemish?”
He merely gave a soft laugh and shook his head, urging Chaucer forward. “I know ye have enjoyed a life of comforts that doubtless did not include sleeping outdoors, but it may well happen tonight.”
She held onto him, feeling his back muscles against her cheek. “But it is raining!”
“Perhaps ye prefer to return to Stirling Castle?”
Nora thought of the babe that must be growing inside her, so tiny that there was no sign of it yet. Reminding herself that Lennox was doing her a favor, she resolved to endure whatever trials lay in store for them.
At least, if they were going to sleep in a ditch during a storm, he would be unlikely to claim his rights as her new husband…
* * *
Thankfully, the rain had stopped by the time Lennox turned onto a path leading into the woods. Before long, they came upon a snug little clearing, and Chaucer halted of his own accord. Smiling, Lennox patted the horse’s flank, dismounted, and reached up for Nora.
“We’ll rest here,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t protest.
Nora wrinkled her nose doubtfully, but came down into his arms all the same. Holding her, Lennox realized that he didn’t want to let go. Desire rose up from his core, mingling with something new and sweet. Affection, perhaps? Her hair was fragrant against his face, and he wanted to bring her closer, to fit her body to his.
Chaucer broke the moment by nudging them with his nose.
“There is a burn nearby,” Lennox murmured. “Listen. Can ye hear it?”
He thought he could sense her heartbeat slowing as she nodded. “That’s your Scots word for a stream, is it not? Chaucer must be thirsty.”
“Aye. We’ll camp here for the night.” Reluctantly, he let her go and turned his attention to the chestnut stallion.
When they had all seen to their needs, Lennox filled a jug with water from the burn and brought it back to the little clearing. Darkness was gathering as silvery clouds scudded across the sky. Chaucer had found a patch of grass on which to graze, and Lennox suddenly realized that he was painfully hungry. He spread out his blanket and hunkered down, sitting back on his heels as he brought out the same food they had eaten at midday.
“Will ye not you join me, lass?” He glanced toward Nora, who was standing off to one side, watching.
She bit her lower lip before approaching and tentatively lowering herself to the blanket.
“I regret that I cannot provide a fire, since the wood is wet. Otherwise, I would gladly hunt some wild game to cook for our wedding supper.” He kept his tone light, and Nora rewarded him with a faintly nervous smile.
“I will confess, it’s not the sort of wedding day I could have ever imagined,” she said.