“Aye, ’tis and ye will no doubt pay for it on the morrow.”
He smiled when she laughed softly and then almost immediately fell asleep. Although it had been a nightmare that had made her wake, he had had a lot of his fears about her health eased by that short time of coherency. So too had her words softened the sting her attempt to escape had inflicted. She had not said much more than Leith had, yet seeing it all from her side had aided his understanding. Knowing that she still wished to share his bed and that in her heart she still trusted him was going to make what he planned to say on the morrow a little easier.
Chapter Thirteen
“Where are we going?”
Swinging her up onto Elfking’s back, Parlan smiled sweetly at Aimil. “’Tis a surprise, lass. Dinnae ye like surprises?”
Frowning as she watched him mount his horse, she grumbled, “Not particularly and even less when I consider who means to spring it on me.”
“Ye wound me, loving. Come, arenae ye a wee bit curious? Let your curiosity lead you.”
“Curiosity can lead one into a great deal of difficulty,” she intoned a little piously, eyeing him with suspicion.
He laughed and spurred his mount foreward. After a brief hesitation Aimil cursed and followed him. His cheerful mood and the air of a mischievous boy that he carried drew her. She was curious. She simply hated to admit it especially when it made him grin so.
Deciding to ignore him, she turned all her attention to riding. It was something she had not been able to indulge in as freely as she had been accustomed to since coming to Dubhglenn. She was determined to enjoy the freedom, false though it might be, and the unusually fine weather, a sunny day the like of which came along too rarely.
When they finally reined in, Parlan indicating that they were to stop and dismount, Aimil looked around in interest. There was a wild, somewhat desolate beauty to the spot he had chosen. She wondered why he had chosen it and again found herself wondering what he was up to, why he needed to get her alone. It was then that she realized just how alone they were.
“Ye have left your guard behind?” she asked in surprise as he drew her toward the blanket he had spread out upon the ground.
“Weel, I wished to spend some time alone with ye, and I cannae rightly do that with them stomping about, now can I?”
She was about to remark upon that when she heard what sounded like a soft wail, the cry of a woman. Giving a gasp, she flung herself into Parlan’s arms. Her fright ebbed quickly when she saw that he was grinning.
“Didnae ye hear that?” She tensed, listening closely. “There it is again. What is it, Parlan?”
“’Tis the banshee.”
Meeting his grin with a stern frown, she drawled, “Ye jest with me, but look at my face. Even a man of your wit can see that I dinnae find it verra humorous.” She frowned even more when he chuckled and kissed her downcast mouth.
Standing up, he pulled her up after him and started toward a ravine. “Come, my sour-tongued wench. I will show ye.” He stopped near a hole about a foot away from the edge of the ravine, holding her back when she would have stepped closer. “Careful, sweeting. It may be unsafe. The hole might have been made because the roof of a cave has collapsed. That moaning is made by the wind. There must be a second hole in the wall of the ravine somewhere. The wind sweeps through, and, lo, ye hear the wail of the banshee of Banshee Well. She calls to those foolish enough to walk without heeding where they step.”
Aimil shivered as the sound came again. “I ken ’tis naught but the wind but ’tis a verra mournful sound.”
“Aye. When I would come here as a lad, I often made up some wild tales to explain it. ’Tis a sound that near begs to be more than just the wind. I had myself lowered into it once and found naught, but felt the wind and with each stirring of it came that sound. It doesnae sound so ghostly from inside either.”
“Was there a cave there?” she asked as he drew her back to the blanket.
“There was a small hole and a lot of rubble. Mayhaps I would have found something had I taken the time to clean out the rubble, but I was only after discovering the source of the moaning. I was past the age where caves were of any interest to me.”
“Is the hole verra deep?”
“Deep enough so that ye could break your neck if ye took a tumble down it.” He began to unpack the basket he had brought along.
Her eyes widening as she saw what he set out, she asked, “Ye mean for us to dine here?”
“Aye. ’Tis a fine way to spend a beautiful day. I have even brought us some wine. We shall drink and eat and loll about in the sun like idle royalty. Have ye never dined in the sun?” She shook her head knowing he did not refer to the sometimes rough and rushed meals taken while traveling. “Then this shall be something new for you. Come, enjoy.”
She did and, as they ate and drank, her enjoyment grew. Parlan was in high spirits and kept her laughing with his teasing and nonsense. It was not until they had finished the food that she began to suspect there was more to the trip than food and sun. She half-lay in his arms, sipping wine, and recognized the look that was slowly altering his expression.
“I begin to think ye have been sly again, Parlan MacGuin,” she drawled but made no move to leave his hold.
“Sly, am I?” He took her cup and tossed it aside then pushed her onto her back. “I thought I was being most clear about what I want.” He began to unlace the jerkin she wore. “Ye needed but one look to guess it.”
She attempted to stop him from removing her jerkin but even she recognized it as half-hearted resistance. “We are outside and the sun is shining.”
