Page 10 of The Highlander's Illicit Bride
What is the matter with ye?
Isolde nodded and, when he turned to walk back to where they had hidden their mount, he realized she was still clutching his hand. Her hand was so small and delicate in his but radiated a warmth Struan felt all the way in his bones. He didn’t remark on it as they walked back to the horse, expecting her to pull her hand free on every step of the way.
But she didn’t. She kept her hold like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to the world.
They arrived at the horse and Isolde turned her deep azure eyes to him, the fear still etched into her features. He lowered his gaze to their hands pointedly.
“Nae that I’m nae flattered, but if we’re goin’ tae go, I’m goin’ tae need that,” he teased.
Isolde dropped her gaze and Struan watched as her eyes grew wide and her cheeks flared a bright scarlet. She quickly pulled her hand away from his and began to wipe them on the legs of her breeches. She cleared her throat. Struan chuckled and shook his head, making her cheeks glow even brighter than they had been before.
“Are ye ready tae go?” he asked.
“Aye.”
“Good.”
He lifted her into the saddle then swung up behind her. As they rode away, Isolde was still tense and her cheeks burned brightly, making Struan wonder how such a cruel man as Murdoch Mackintosh had raised a child who was so delicate and so completely unlike him.
CHAPTER FIVE
They had ridden for a while and despite the fact that they were seemingly safe, at least for the time being, Isolde was still shaken. He could feel her trembling and she had not spoken a word since their close call.
“’Tis time we take a rest,” he offered, thinking it might be beneficial to take their ease for just a little while.
She craned her neck around. “But what if there are more brigands about?”
“Then we’ll deal with them,” he replied. “But I think we’re safe fer now.”
Isolde’s face showed her uncertainty and Struan could tell she preferred to keep moving, as if being on the road would make them any less susceptible to attacks from either her father’s soldiers, or roaming thieves.
Seems like the lass has not spent much time outside her castle walls.
“Besides, we’re startin’ tae lose the daylight. We’re goin’ tae want tae find a place tae hole up fer the night anyway,” he added.
“And where dae ye propose wehole upthen?” She asked emphasizing on the term he had used with a small smile.
Struan nodded to something up ahead of them. “There’s an old crofter’s hut. We should be able tae find shelter there fer the night.”
With Isolde seemingly willing to defer to his experience, Struan led the horse off the forest path and crossed the small field to the crofter’s hut. It was then that he noticed a small loch sat in the clearing, ringed by tall, thick trees that pressed close to it on the shoreline.
“Who dae ye think this home belongs tae?” she asked.
“How am I supposed tae ken that?”
“Ye arenaesupposedtae ken it. This is why I saiddae ye think.”
“Ye women have very weird thoughts passing yer heads daily, dinnae ye?”
“I am just trying tae make small talk, ye ken, kill the silence.”
“I dinnae mind being silent,” Struan said and slipped off the back of the horse, chuckling to himself, then turned and helped her down.
“I would think different after being locked in the dungeons, but if ye say so,” she stood near the horse, her hand on its flank as if she sought reassurance.
Struan walked toward the hut, his eyes scanning the woods and land around it for threats. Seeing none, he approached the hut. Around the side, Struan noticed a line strung up behind it with some clothes still attached to it.
“The place looks abandoned,” he called to Isolde. “Why dinnae ye check around the other side of the hut? Peek in the windows and make sure nobody’s home, eh?”
