A cold feeling trickled down her spine at the mention of her father. It had been a long time since Robert Murray haunted her nightmares. She felt Noah’s eyes on her and looked up at him, meeting his eyes and willing him to understand.
“I used to dream of him barging into my room in the dead of night,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I dreamt that he would drag me away, back to Keep Murray, to face a horrible fate. My imagination conjured him up in every dark corner of the convent. Sometimes, I dreamt that he came to get me in broad daylight, when I was surrounded by my friends. I dreamt that he’d drag me off, or order his men to do so, while the Abbess and the people I loved simply stood, blank-faced, and watched.”
“That would never happen,” Noah insisted. “The Abbess would fight for ye herself. Yer friends would sooner die than let Laird Murray take ye.”
Senga swallowed thickly. “That’s what I’m afraid of. That they’ll die to save me. I dreamt of that too, ye know. Of my father executing the people who tried to protect me. As the years went by, and I began to feel safer, I dreamt it less, but still. Still, I was frightened. I suppose I always knew that I couldn't hide forever. In a way, I’m glad he came for me here, not when I was at the convent. I would have spent the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, waiting for him to come for me. Now I know that he’s coming, and I can… I can make my peace with it,” she added, shrugging.
Noah scowled at that. “Making yer peace sounds too much like surrender.”
Senga gave a short laugh. “I’m not much good at that. Even when I try to give up something, it follows me around like a dog at my heels.”
“Very picturesque.”
They walked on for a while more. Senga stumbled in stepping over a wide puddle, her feet slipping in the mud on the other side of the puddle. Noah was there at once, his hand warm and safe.
“Ye all right?” he asked, voice low and concerned. “I can carry ye on my back for a while, if ye like.”
She gave a snort. “Aye, that would make us both look fine, wouldn’t it? I would look like a wee silly lass who’s bitten off more than she can chew. Ye, I suppose, would look like a fine gentleman.”
“Look like? Iama fine gentleman. And is that a no to a ride on my back?”
She bit the corners of her cheeks, holding back a smile. “Look behind us. See how miserable and tired everybody is. If we start frolicking around, somebody is going to push us into the mud.”
He gave a throaty laugh. “I cannot argue with ye. Come, then, let’s talk of happier things. Ye have spoken of yer bad memories of the convent and yer bad dreams. What of yer good memories or good dreams?”
Senga brightened. “Oh, good memories? I have plenty of those. I have wonderful friends. I felt as though I had a true family in the convent. The Abbess was like a mother, watching over us all. There was just so much to do. I was never bored, I was always busy. I loved it. I never wanted to leave. When I started to believe that ye were either dead or not coming for me, I thought about what I’d do. When Freya first came, things began to change, and I decided then that I would become a nun.”
Noah’s step faltered, and he glanced down at her, eyebrows lifted. “A nun? I cannot see ye as a nun, Senga.”
Senga flushed, remembering their bodies tangled together under the blankets just the night before.
“No, nor can I. But at the time it seemed like a good idea.”
There was a little more silence after that, but it was an easy, comfortable sort of silence. After a moment, Senga glanced thoughtfully up at Noah.
“What about ye? What good memories and good dreams do ye have?”
She didn’t want to ask about his bad dreams. She suspected that his dreams, like hers, were full of darkness and horror. Laird Murray would be in them, eyes dark and full of malice and hatred. Like her escape, she believed that his, too, had been all luck.
Noah was quiet for a long moment, until Senga started to believe that he wasn’t going to answer her.
“Do ye remember our first kiss?” he asked suddenly.
She misstepped, stumbling again.
“Careful,” he murmured, steadying her. “Ye are getting tired. We have a long way to go, and ye mustn’t fall and hurt yerself.”
“I’ll be careful,” Senga stammered. “And the answer is aye, I do remember our first kiss.” She paused, half-smiling. “I was always going to the stables. I had seen ye, and after ye had saved me from falling from my horse, I found that I thought of ye all the time. All day, in fact. Father left me to my own devices during the daytime, and so long as I did not disturb him and stayed out of his way, he did not care what I did. So, I went to the stables so I could see ye.”
Noah bit his lip, shaking his head. “For the longest time, I did not dare believe that ye were coming to see me.”
“I asked yer advice on what horse I should ride,” Senga interjected. “Ye taught me how to ride. Bit by bit, I grew in confidence.”
“Ye had no need to grow in confidence,” Noah snorted. “Ye had the confidence of a king himself. I lost track of how many times ye nearly fell from a horse. No, yedidfall from a horse, atleast once. Ye only got up, shook out yer skirts, and asked for my help to get back into the saddle so ye could try again.”
“Was I really like that?” Senga gasped. “So fearless?”
“Aye, that’s how I remember it, how I remember ye.”
