Page 45 of Abducted By the Highlander
As they wound their way along the riverbank, the clouds grew darker and the breeze fresher. She shivered and tugged her shawl more tightly about her shoulders and hoped it wasn’t about to rain. Still, they’d had almost a week without rain, so one couldn’t grumble.
It wasn’t long before Hugh ended up beside her and she smiled at him before nodding at Grear, who eagerly rode on ahead to accompany one of the older lasses she’d befriended a few days ago. After a few minutes of light banter, Hugh glanced around to make sure they weren’t overheard, before he drew closer to her.
“There’s a town half a day’s ride away that Darragh wants to visit.” His voice was low, and she stared straight ahead, in the hope that would give anyone casting a stray glance their way the impression that their conversation was inconsequential. “I’ll find a way to join him. ’Tis possible there may be a message there for us.”
Her fingers tightened on her reins as hope surged that soon she and Hugh might return to their former lives. “That would be good news, indeed.”
“Aye.” He sounded resigned by the prospect, and she disregarded whatever propriety she still retained and reached across the space between them and gently clasped his hand.
“Good news for us both,” she clarified. Why wouldn’t he share the reason he had been banished? Several times over the last few days she’d tried to encourage him to confide, but he always changed the subject. His stubbornness refused to daunt her. If all else failed, she would ensure Freyja made certain Alasdair spoke to the earl on Hugh’s behalf. “Ye’ll see.”
*
They had beenriding for several hours and were traveling through a glen with towering limestone cliffs dotted with caves when the sky darkened and drizzle filled the air. Roisin pulled her shawl over her head, not that it would do a lot of good at keeping her dry if the rain became heavier.
Thunder rumbled and without further warning the heavens opened. The rain pummeled onto the ground and mist rose around them, making it hard to see Ecne in the wagon in front of them, never mind the path they were meant to be taking. Hugh grasped her wrist as she clutched the reins and disembodied voices filtered through the hammering downpour.
“Take refuge in the caves.”
Hugh veered a sharp right, guiding her horse along with his own, and her protest was lost in the biting wind that whipped through the glen. She twisted on her saddle and, through the pelting rain, just caught sight of the wagon with her darling lad vanish into a cave up ahead.
“We’ll need to dismount.” Hugh raised his voice above the cacophony, and she peered at the low entrance to the cave he had led her to. In the shadows cast by the lowering clouds, it looked like adark, gaping mouth ready to devour unwary travelers and she hastily pushed the fanciful notion to the back of her mind.
She dismounted quickly, and they led their horses into the cave. The entrance was so low she had to bow her head but once inside, the roof was high enough for the horses to stand without any problem.
As she squeezed water from her shawl, she couldn’t help voicing her concerns. “I hope they don’t leave poor Ecne in his basket. He’ll be frantic, thinking I’ve left him.”
“Grear took shelter in that cave, Roisin. She’ll be with him. Do not fret.”
She released a relieved breath, silently childing herself for not noticing that herself. Ecne would be comforted by Grear’s presence, and after all, it was only until this fierce summer storm passed.
Hugh grabbed the rolled-up blanket from her saddle and dropped its leather covering to the ground before handing the blanket to her. “Here. This will help ye dry off.”
Gratefully, she wrapped the blanket around herself. “What about ye?”
“Don’t worry about me.” He appeared to be searching for something on the cave floor, and after a few moments, she realized what he was doing. He had pulled a tinderbox from one of his pouches and was searching for kindling. She crouched and picked up whatever dry twigs and old leaves she could find, and he focused on catching a spark and building a small fire.
“It’s not much.” He eyed his handiwork before glancing at her. “But maybe it’s enough for ye to dry yerself, along with the blanket.”
The doubt in his voice was palpable. Since she was drenched to the bone, it was unlikely this wee fire would do much to keep the chill at bay, but his thoughtfulness touched her.
“’Tis more than enough.” To prove her point, she kneeled next to him on the stony ground and warmed her hands on the small flames. The fresh scent of rain and worn leather swirled around her, drivingback the mustiness of the cave, and the mist that billowed beyond its narrow mouth gave an otherworldly visage, as though they had fallen through a crack in the world into the land of the fae.
She shook her head at her outlandish thoughts, but she couldn’t help smiling. He caught her, and grinned, and her heart leaped in her breast, the way it always did when he looked at her so.
“What’s so amusing?” He tenderly stroked a wet curl from her cheek and his finger lingered, a warm counterpoint against her chilled skin.
“This.” Her voice was husky, but she didn’t mind if he knew how he affected her. How could he not know? She’d proven that beyond all doubt in his tent just a few days ago.
The memory scorched her senses, and a fierce longing to feel him hold her once again burned through her. Tenderly, she cradled his jaw, and his sharp intake of breath sent sparks of pleasure dancing through her blood.
“Ye find this amusing?” His finger traced along her cheek, leaving ribbons of fire in his wake. “’Tis pure torture for me.”
“Are ye certain?” She leaned closer and brushed a kiss upon his lips. He tasted of raindrops and of unspoken promises, and smoky need coiled tight between her thighs. “Is this torture, Hugh?”
“It is when this is all we can have.” He gripped her shoulders, his hot gaze scorching her. “Do not test me, Roisin. A man can only take so much.”
“I’m not testing ye.”
