Page 41 of Rescued By the Highland Warrior
With conflicting thoughts swirling through his mind, Roderick gathered the rest of his things and opened the doors to his chambers.
To his surprise, there was Moira, facing him, her expression serene with her long, dark hair tied back in a simple yet elegant knot. Her curved silhouette caught the soft light of the early morning, and for a moment, Roderick simply looked at her, his heart giving an unexpected lurch.
“Moira,” he said, stepping closer. “Good mornin’.”
She smiled, “Tell me why ye look so surprised. Did ye think that I wouldnae be ready?”
“Nay,” he said. “I just didnae expect ye tae be up earlier than me.”
Her smile deepened, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Aye, well, I dinnae always rise wi’ the sun, but during me time here it has felt most appropriate."
“Seems fittin’,” he conceded, “Shall we?”
Roderick beckoned downstairs with his arm, trying to ignore the way Moira was making him feel. He was finding it increasingly difficult to mask his stirrings toward her especially when she had that look in her eye.
Moira gave him a knowing glance, her smile still lingering, before nodding in agreement. “Aye, let’s be off then.”
As she descended the stairs ahead of him, the soft sway of her movements caught his eye. The way in which she walked side to side, her quiet elegance—it was enticing.
No man in his right mind would be able to resist, and he was used to taking what he wanted, whenever he wanted it.
But he reminded himself that they were on a mission—focused, practical. There was not going to be another kiss.
Roderick excused himself to collect supplies from the kitchen, some bread, cheese, and dried meat for the trip. Luckily the kitchen was still practically empty, so he would not have to explain himself to anyone yet.
Once he returned to Moira, who was waiting by the entrance, Roderick opened it for her, stepping aside as she passed through.
He felt a deep sense of anticipation for their journey ahead. Aside from hoping to unearth some clues, he knew that today would lead him to feel more connected to his father, as he was to enter into one of his private spheres. And spending time with Moira, alone, was an appealing thought as well. He could not deny it.
Roderick led Moira to the stables, the crisp morning air brushing against their skin.
The horses were waiting, calm and ready, and Moira brushed her hand against the sleek coat of one of the steeds, a small smile on her lips.
“The lodge is nae too far away, although it is nestled in a remote area within the northern forest,” Roderick said, “this here is me horse, an’ ye’re welcome tae sit on the back if ye’d rather rest.”
“Thank ye fer yer offer Roderick,” Moira said, “but I’m more than confident ridin’ me own.”
Roderick nodded, his lips curling slightly into a smile. “Of course, ye are.”
He led Moira to a sturdy, gray mare, and after helping her mount, he saddled and swung onto his own.
“Remember,” he said. “Follow behind me, I’ll keep watchin’ back tae check that ye’re all right–”
Before he could finish, Moira had already begun riding ahead, her movements fluid and confident.
Roderick raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching into a half-smile. She was nothing if not determined. He charged his horse forward, closing the distance between them with a swift motion, and racing ahead.
“Ye’re nae one tae tak’ orders, are ye?” He called out.
“Nay, me laird,” she shouted, her voice carried by the breeze. “Have ye nae figured that out by now?”
Roderick laughed, shaking his head, before pressing on.
As he rode further, he took in the beauty of the fine winter’s morning. The sky was a pale blue, crisp and clear, as the sunlight broke through the trees. The air was cool, and there was a distinct chill that bit at his cheeks—but he breathed it all in, riding with the wind spurring him on.
The sound of Moira’s horse’s hooves pounding the ground behind him was a steady rhythm and a welcome reminder that she was close. Having her at his heels spurred Roderick to ride even faster, to push forward into the wilderness with the same intensity that burned inside him.
He smiled, for he had never met a woman as competitive as her—he liked the challenge.
