Page 29 of The Highlander's Auctioned Wife
Anna offered him a sympathetic smile that he didn’t see. “Thank ye, Laird Glendenning.” She turned a cooler gaze toward Gordon. “I suspect I shall need it.”
Gordon ignored her light jab, taking possession of the hand that the younger laird had released. Without a word, he guided herinto the nearest carriage, but as she moved to withdraw her hand, he brought it roughly to his lips.
Her eyes widened in surprise, her mouth parting as she stared down at his mouth against her skin.
Did ye think I’d leave it unclaimed after that laird’s attempt?
Letting her hand fall, he didn’t linger to see her settle herself among the boxes and trunks of her belongings. Instead, turning sharply, he strode off to where his stallion waited impatiently.
Climbing into the saddle, hoping it would be a long, long while before he had any reason to leave his own castle and lands again, Gordon clicked his tongue and set off for home: one bride and, apparently, all her worldly goods heavier than when he had departed.
CHAPTER 15
Any excitementabout venturing eastward and seeing more of the country soon evaporated with the tedious hours of solitude, knocked and bumped by unsteady belongings, while the view from the carriage window evaded Anna’s eye. How was she to enjoy the newness of the journey if she couldn’tseeany of it?
A thick fog shrouded the landscape, drizzling rain hitting the window to conceal the view even more, while a cold chill slithered in to make her shiver. She had no idea where the servants had stowed her blankets. Jane would have known, but the maid was traveling in the second carriage, which Anna couldn’t see either.
I cannae bear another minute of this.
Firmly, she stretched across the carriage and rapped on the opposite window.
A shadow filled the pane, and as Anna pulled down the sash-style window, she peered out at the sodden figure of Gordon, moving to the rhythm of Manadh’s steady plod.
“We’re nae stoppin’,” Gordon said, before she could utter a word.
“I wasnae askin’ to,” she shot back, noting the way the rain meandered down his face in racing rivulets.
For reasons she couldn’t explain, she felt compelled to brush the water away, needing to clench her hands into fists to resist the desire. His unruly, dark hair had been somewhat tamed by the rain, slicked back off his face, as though someone or something had run their fingers through it after a bath.
She blinked, her voice stolen away by the violent beauty of him. Her fingertips itched to feel those raven-dark waves, to touch the rough stubble that shadowed his jaw and lip, to feel the difference between his scars and his unmarked skin.
What is wrong with ye?She cleared her throat to clear away the thoughts, once again wondering if therewassomething unnatural about him: an unearthly gift of devilish charm that could seize control of her mind at a moment’s notice.
“What is it, then?” he muttered.
Feeling the cold kiss of the rain on her too-warm skin, an idea came to her. “I want to ride with ye.”
“Pardon?” He eyed her as if she were mad.
“I’m nae made of sugar, M’Laird. I willnae melt.” Anna shrugged. “Besides, I’ll be black and blue by the time we reach Castle Lyall if I stay in here, and I’ve a greater chance of actuallyseein’some of the world from out there, instead of bein’ cooped up in here.”
His one eye narrowed. “Ye shouldnae have packed so much.”
“Aye, well, I cannae undo that excess now, can I?” she replied, agitated. “I cannae breathe in here, M’Laird. Let me ride a while with ye. The fresh air will do me good.”
He seemed unconvinced. “If ye complain, I’ll put ye right back in there.”
“Ye willnae hear a word of protest,” she promised, her hopes swelling.
What an adventure, to ride through such wild country on the back of a proud stallion, protected by me potential husband.It was a silly, romantic thought—quite unlike her—but she figured she ought to getsomejoy out of the journey, even if she had to conjure it from her imagination.
Gordon whistled loudly and the driver slowed to a standstill.
“Is there trouble, M’Laird?” the driver called out into the drizzle.
“Aye. The lass wants to ride,” Gordon replied.
Anna stared at him.Was that a jest?
