Page 80 of The Highlander's Auctioned Virgin
Elinor set the necklace back on her vanity. “Thank ye.”
“What will ye do without me?”
Elinor rolled her eyes. “Also, I daenae need the wedding to be perfect , Sister. It can simply be a wedding I agreed to.”
“Circumstances shouldnae dictate situations we can control.”
Elinor narrowed her eyes, but before she could respond, the door swung open.
Katherine walked in with a cup in hand, curling steam rising from the top.
“Ye should take this,” she said, moving to Elinor and handing her the cup. “‘Tis willowbark root.”
Elinor gingerly took the cup, feeling the steam kiss her face.
“It should protect ye from the cold and ease any ache caused by the long ride. Whenever ye need to rest, make sure to listen to yer body.”
Elinor laughed. “The last long trip I took, I was kidnapped from me home. I am certain I can handle a day’s ride without this concoction.”
“Still,” Katherine insisted, “one cannae be too careful. Ye’re the lady of the clan, and ye’ll be riding with the Hound. The target on yer back couldnae be clearer.”
“He’ll protect me,” Elinor assured her, a proud smirk creeping onto her face.
Ciaran’s declaration earlier in the study echoed in her mind.
“If I cannae protect ye on me own, then I’m nae worthy of being yer husband.”
It rang true over and over in her head like the castle’s alarm bells. Like a promise she was confident he would keep.
“He’ll protect me,” she repeated, her voice clear and sharp, almost like she was convincing herself instead of Anna and Katherine.
One moment she was talking with her friends and getting ready for the trip, the next she was climbing onto her horse.
“Are ye certain that ye daenae want me to come with ye? ‘Tis me duty to accompany ye on yer trips, after all.”
Elinor tightened her grip on the reins and adjusted herself in the saddle. She looked down at Thomas, who had a worried look on his face.
“Is that jealousy I hear in yer voice, Thomas?”
“Well, ye have to remember that I would be able to protect ye better because nay one out there is actively seeking to killme.”
“‘Tis only the village, ye daenae have to worry,” Elinor said. “We will return before tomorrow night.”
She turned to look at Ciaran, who was fastening the harness around his horse, his eyes focused solely on the ropes. Then, she returned her gaze to Thomas.
“I am also certain that ye have a maid to take to yer bed anyway. The last one was Stella, was it nae?”
“Bella. Ye ken that, M’Lady.”
“Do I?” Elinor drawled, her lips curling into a smirk as she flicked the reins.
Her horse trotted out of the courtyard and headed to the fences. She didn’t have to turn around to know that Ciaran was right behind her, the hoofbeats of his horse droning in the background.
The wind whipped at her face as they eventually rode out of the castle and into the woods—a path they had to take before coming out into the open field on the other side. The ride was slow at first, almost like they were warming up the horses before the real run began.
“Would ye be open to a race?” Elinor asked, turning to him.
“Nay.” His response was sharp, almost biting like the morning cold that pricked her face.
