“Protection.” Isobell’s matter of fact reply ratcheted up Emily’s level of concern.
“I don’t have a clue how to use a knife to defend myself or anyone else.”
“Of course not. You come from a more civilized time. Gregor will teach you.” Isobell placed a hand on Emily’s waist, turned her about, and deftly undid the laces on the back of the gown. “Now, let us get you dressed for riding.”
“I’m not sure my time is more civilized. There is so much political unrest. Urban riots, hate crimes, terrorist attacks. More and more people carry guns,” Emily said, as Isobell dragged an ecru-colored tunic over her head. She squeezed into a pair of tight leather pants. “By the way, whose clothes are these?”
“Mine. I am known for riding about the countryside dressed as a lad.”
Emily’s eyes popped. “Really?”
“Aye. I like to be comfortable when I ride.” Isobellchuckled.
“I’m so glad. I was afraid I’d have to ride in a dress in order to conform to the local custom.” Emily smiled and tugged on her own boots. “Thanks for lending me the clothes.”
Isobell rolled the leather cloth around the knives, bound it with a tie, and slipped them into what appeared to be a saddlebag, along with a skirt and another shirt and a chemise. “Gregor can show you where and how to strap the blades to your body.” Isobel flexed her eyebrows with exaggeration like Groucho Marx. The woman possessed a contrary mix of past and future idioms.
The craziness of it all helped Emily ignore the heat that flushed her neck and face caused by Isobell’s sexual inference. Although, she’d certainly like Gregor to touch several sensitive parts of her body. In only a few hours they would probably make love. The mere thought made her insides clench and her sex weep. What had come over her lately? She’d never gotten all pumped up about sex before. Had she?
Everything seemed so confusing. She rubbed her forehead between her eyes where a slight ache of tension had become a near constant annoyance.
The trip down the circular stairs was much easier in pants and boots. Still, Emily ran a hand along the stone wall as she descended. She met Gregor in the great hall a few moments later.
His eyes lit as she approached. He took the saddlebag from her and placed it on a table behind him alongside another bulging one. Then he turned her about in a circle, his heated gaze sliding over her from head to toe. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “You are verra appealing,wife, dressed as a lad.”
A joyful chuckle bubbled up her throat and escaped from her lips in a burst.
Gregor had donned brown leather pants as well. He wore a hooded rust leather vest over a long sleeved grayish linenshirt. A wide belt clinched a trim waist. On his left forearm was strapped a thick leather arm guard. A sheathed sword hung on his back and a quiver of feathered arrows hung from his hip. He appeared every inch the hunter. She leisurely skimmed his fine physique with a measuring gaze. “Very appealing, indeed,husband.”
His cheeks reddened. He actually blushed. His husky chuckle warmed her heart. He twisted his torso toward the table and retrieved her saddlebag along with the other and his bow. “Let us be on our way.”
They exited the castle though the courtyard gate and made their way to the pebbly beach where several of those small boats Gregor calledcurrachswaited just above the surf.
“Clouds darken the horizon. We should make haste to avoid a soaking.” Gregor dropped the saddlebags into one of the boats and dragged it to the water’s edge.
She hopped in without getting her feet wet. He wasn’t as lucky when he joined her. The view was great. The countryside, of course, but more so, the flex of masculine muscle, fabric taut, with each tug on the oars.
After a short hike up the hill to the stables, Gregor assisted Emily into the saddle of a chestnut mare. He seemed awkward. His hands displayed a slight tremble. He stumbled when he attempted to mount his horse.
“Are you all right?” she asked. He seemed disoriented.
“I am fine,” he claimed as he rose to the saddle and took his seat. She wasn’t sure she believed him. He looked a bit green about the gills.
“Are you sure you want to ride out today? We could wait and go tomorrow after a good night’s sleep.”
He grinned. “I dinnae plan to get much sleep this night.”
She glanced away to hide her burning face. Heated cheeks were becoming way too common of late.
They climbed to the ridge above the stables and followed the tree line. Long-haired cattle grazed the grasses along the slope below. After a distance, they entered a narrow trail, riding in single file—Emily tailed Gregor—in silence. Thesoft purring trills and high see-see-sees of crested tits accompanied them along the woodsy track. Occasionally, Emily caught glimpses of the small grayish birds and another yellow variety she didn’t know by name.
They’d ridden for what seemed like an hour when Gregor started to whistle a not quite rhythmic tune and sway in the saddle.
What on earth? Emily tightened the distance between them, concerned by his strange behavior. When the trail widened, she rode up alongside. He glanced over and gave her a shit-eating grin. His glassy eyes darting about. Was he drunk?
“Gregor?”
“Just a wee farther,” he said, the words somewhat slurred.
