Page 52 of Rescued By the Highland Warrior
Roderick watched her take in a breath as she steadied herself, before stepping down from her horse.
“Moira,” he called, rushing toward her. “Are ye all right?”
She waved him off with a small smile, though there was a flicker of something in her eyes that suggested the moment had shaken her more than she let on. "I’m fine. Nay harm done.”
“Are ye sure?” He asked, inspecting her with cautious eyes.
Moira nodded, though her gaze was already scanning the ground. Roderick noticed her eyes sharpen and fix on something a few paces away from her horse’s back hooves. She got out of the saddle and knelt down to examine something in the grass, and Roderick edged closer to get a better look.
His body tensed as he saw what she was looking at—an arrow. It was partially buried in the icy grass, its feathered end glinting faintly in the light.
“An arrow?” Moira muttered, her voice tinged with both surprise and a hint of wariness. As she stood up, she inspected it carefully, her face creased with confusion—she eventually sighed, shrugging her shoulders.
“Let me have a look,” Roderick said quickly.
Moira handed him the arrow and Roderick proceeded to examine the arrow carefully, frowning as he ran his thumb along the smooth, well-crafted shaft.
In an instant his stomach dropped. “I cannae believe it,” he finally said.
“What?” She asked.
Malcolm.
Roderick shook his head. “This arrow has come from Malcolm’s estate, I recognize the markings.”
“Are ye sure?”
“Aye,” he said. “I’ve seen them and used them during me many stays at his estate.”
For some reason, Moira didn’t look as shocked as Roderick felt. She shrugged it off lightly, “Perhaps it was a mistake.”
“An’ arrow headed right fer ye was a mistake?” He questioned.
“I dinnae ken,” Moira joked, “perhaps he was just tryin’ tae free ye up fer his daughter.”
“That isnae funny,” Roderick responded sharply. His eyes narrowed as he turned over the arrow once more. “This is serious, Moira. Ye could’ve been hurt—or worse.”
Roderick knew that Malcolm seemed cold and selfish, and that he was disappointed Roderick was not betrothed to his daughter—but one of his councilmen intending to kill his betrothed was completely unheard of. He couldn’t wrap his head around something like that, and if it was deliberate the implications would be grave indeed.
“Listen,” Moira said. “I’m fine, naethin’ happened. We have other things tae worry about aside from Malcolm’s temper.”
Roderick shot her a sharp look, his jaw tightening. “Alright. But ye’re goin’ tae ride ahead of me so that I can see ye. It will be straight on fer a while until I tell ye tae turn.”
“Fine,” Moira said calmly, getting back on her horse with practiced ease. She adjusted her cloak, casting a quick glance over her shoulder at Roderick.
With a flick of her reins, Moira urged her horse forward, the sound of hooves crunching against the frost-covered ground filling the air. Both of them could not help looking around constantly, wary of any strange noise or movement.
Once they reached the castle, Moira followed Roderick to the stables, where they dismounted in silence.
The stable hands came to take their horses, and Roderick thanked them, barely acknowledging Moira’s presence. He moved with the same distant efficiency, his jaw set and his shoulders stiff, as he headed toward the stable doors.
“I need tae get tae me study,” he said without looking at her. “There’s much tae be done.”
Moira nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at her. “Aye,” she said, “Of course.”
Once Roderick left, she decided that she’d need to keep herself busy. Of course, she could go over everything in her mind once more—perhaps snoop around the castle for clues, but as unprofessional as it sounded, she found herself unwilling to engage in anything that would remind her of him.
She felt as though she needed distraction—one that could only come from the comfort of a friend. Moira moved through the castle with purpose and asked a nearby maid where Arabella’s bedroom was.
