“Where did you go?” she asked.
“We spent time in France. Calais, Rouen, Paris.”
“Do you speak French then?”
“Oui, mademoiselle. Tu es la plus belle femme du monde.”
She flushed, her cheeks turning a pale pink. “I don’t know what that means but it sounds like a compliment.”
“Aye,” he said, pleased with himself.
He didn’t tell her he got into some romantic trouble in Paris where he, quite literally, was caught with his pants down in a compromising position with a French noble’s daughter. It was the final straw for Uncle Argyle, who immediately set sail for Scotland. His uncle then returned to clean up the disaster he’d left in his wake. Guilt swept through him, remembering his abhorrent and less than chivalrous behavior.
After that, he’d made a silent vow to be a better man, to stop chasing the lassies—no matter how bonnie—and to be more gallant. And then he’d set his eyes upon Brianna. While he still intended to be the valiant man he aspired to be, he could not resist chasing her, charming her, or wanting her.
She focused her wintery gaze on the sky, which was heavy with gray clouds that threatened rain. “Maybe we should head back.”
“Aye, we should.”
It was getting late in the day. He’d enjoyed their time together far too much. Though he’d known they would have to return at some point, he still wasn’t ready to do that. Reluctantly, he nodded and turned his horse back toward the castle. She did the same with such ease, it was as though she’d doneit all her life.
“Ye are a much better rider than yer sisters,” he observed.
She flushed again, her cheeks turning a pretty pink. “Thanks. I used to ride a lot when I was younger. Where I come from, we have a horse competition that involves a rider and horse jumping obstacles. I was in training to do that.”
He had never heard of such a thing and was instantly fascinated. “Aye? Jumping over logs?”
“You might say that,” she replied with a smile. “It was a timed competition. So the faster you and your horse completed the course, the better your score.” She gave him a surreptitious glance, a mischievous grin on her face. “Want to race?”
“Ye wish to race me back to the keep?” he said.
She gripped the reins tighter in her hands. “I do.”
Before he agreed, she kicked her horse into a full gallop and took off, leaving him in her dust.
Chapter Eleven
The ride backto the keep was exhilarating. She hadn’t felt that alive and free in a long time. The wind whipped through her hair leaving it in tangles as she galloped along, the cold biting through her clothes. But she didn’t care because it was wonderful to be on the back of a horse again, even if she was stuck in the Middle Ages.
Jamie caught up to her before they made it to the gate. He gave her a wicked grin as he encouraged his mount to go faster. A laugh escaped her throat as she tried to follow, but he pulled ahead of her and reached the portcullis first. He reined in his horse, coming to a halt, leaving a shower of dirt clods in his wake.
When she came a halt near him, she was grinning from ear to ear as was he.
“Ye lost, lass.”
“This time,” she said with a grin.
“Will there be a next time, then?” There was a twinkle of mirth in his eyes as he smirked, showing off those two deep dimples.
“Of course, there will.”
Together, they trotted back to the stables. The stable hands were busy doing their tasks when they arrived. As Brianna dismounted, she wondered if it was possible to care for the horse. She wasn’t ready to go back into the keep and face her sisters.
“How about I remove the saddle and brush her down?” Brianna offered.
Surprise flickered over his face. “Ye wish do to that yerself?”
“Yes, if that’s all right. It’s been a while since I was able to care for a horse. I miss it.”
