But as had been proven by her sisters’ reactions to seeing Iain on Synne, as well as her own instinct to protect them at all costs when she had seen them in distress, they all stillcarried too powerful an echo of the old fear of being found to ever let it go. And now here she was, forced to remain in this town mere miles from her childhood home. Her vision went dim at the edges.
Suddenly a warm hand on her elbow jarred her, bringing the world into focus again. She looked up blearily to see Iain’s face close to her own, that concern that had touched her so back in place.
“Mayhap you are nae as well as you thought you were,” he murmured, his gaze scouring her from head to toe. As if what ailed her could be seen with the naked eye.
“I’m fine, truly,” she mumbled, pulling her arm from his grip. Or at least attempting to. He was having none of it.
“You may have hit your head during the crash,” he replied grimly. “I’ll find you a place to sit. I’ll nae have you keel over and hurt yourself worse.”
“I’m fine, I tell you,” she insisted, scowling. “And I shan’t sit idle. I wish to help.”
But it was not Iain who answered her.
“There’s nothing for you to do, miss,” Kenneth called out from his place beside the carriage. He kicked at the damaged wheel with his boot. “Only a blacksmith can repair this, I’m afraid.”
Mayhap if the man had not used such a blatantly patronizing tone, or smiled in that small, condescending way men had when talking to a female, Seraphina might have nodded and sat down on the side of the road and allowed them to do what needed to be done.
But he had used those time-honored signs of patriarchal superiority. And in Seraphina’s agitated state, anxious over being so close to her father’s home and angry at herself for even caring, she could not let it go.
Not that she could have let it go in her normal frame of mind.
“Then I shall fetch a blacksmith,” she declared. She pointed up the road. “Durham is that way, you say?” Without waiting for an answer, she stormed toward the bridge.
There was a beat of charged silence behind her, followed by a rumble of low male voices in a highly perturbed state. Then, suddenly, the fall of footsteps, and Iain was at her side, his long stride matched to her own.
“You are not going to change my mind about going,” she bit out, keeping her gaze straight ahead as she kept on her course.
“Oh, I wasnae going to even attempt it, lass,” he drawled. “I am fully aware that you are even more stubborn than you were in our youth, and I’ve nae wish to waste my breath. Besides,” he continued, stretching his arms from side to side, “I need the exercise after being so long cooped up.”
Seraphina breathed deep and slow, praying for patience. “I wish to go alone,” she gritted. “I do not need your protection.”
Out of the corner of her eye she saw him look at her. And then his voice, softer than she ever expected, “Oh, I know you dinnae.”
Her breath caught in her throat. There was almost a tenderness or sadness in the words that she felt deep in her soul. In the next instant, however, he ruined the effect spectacularly.
“You have your pigeon for that. And seeing what he did to my ear, I know he’s perfectly capable and willing in his bodyguard duties.”
She rolled her eyes, strangely relieved that they were back to sniping at each other. “And he will gladly do the same to the other ear if you do not leave me be.”
“Attacks on command, does he?”
Was that a smile in his voice? Whatever it was, it caused her lips to soften. Not a full-blown smile, of course. She did not like him enough for that. In fact, she did not like him at all.
Nevertheless, the tension around her mouth eased. And not only that, but the muscles in her back loosened as well. She sighed, dropping her shoulders for the first time in what felt like hours.
And immediately felt a twinge in her neck. Wincing, she reached up and rubbed at the spot.
He moved a step closer, his gaze sharp on her now. “I knew you were injured,” he muttered. And then his hand was on her bag, taking it from her shoulder.
“I can carry my own things,” she grumbled, making a halfhearted attempt to keep hold of it. But in the end she let it go. She would never admit as much, but it truly did feel much better to have that weight no longer pulling on her neck.
“I would take your pigeon from you as well if I thought he would allow it,” he murmured.
“Even to the detriment of your ears?” she asked, glancing his way for the first time since they had set off.
His lips curled upward, a faint humor dancing in his eyes. Once more Seraphina felt as if she were looking at the boy he had been, the boy she had loved. Shaken, she hastily glanced away. Best to remember him as the boy who had betrayed her. For she would not be taken in as a dupe again.
Chapter 12
