“Climb down, Miran.”
She did, waiting for him to do the same.
Once he stood in front of her, he let the horses roam freely.
“What if they escape?”
“Those beasts know who cares for them.”
“Verra well.”
“Are we?” he asked.
She glanced furtively around her. This part of the Highlands was barren and flat. And with snow on the ground, it looked even more accursed. “Ye are worried I willna honor our agreement.”
“There should be no doubt in my mind about it. You gave yourself to me out of free will. I did not force you, did I, Miran?”
“Nay.”
“Or even seduce you. You did that on your own.”
She fisted her hands at her sides. Why did he always point out her shortcomings? “If ye had paid attention to the board on the door…”
“I did. The painted side was showing. Which means no one was within.”
“Ye are wrong! The painted side meant I was inside.”
“Nay.”
“B-but…”
“Miran. Trust me in this, I feared walking in on a family, so I checked with Fraser before I visited the steam hut.”
“Shite,” she mumbled to herself.
“And why did you curse?”
“Because I know ye are right, as always.”
He lifted her chin so she had to look at him. “Tis not a battle of wits between us. I am older than you, Miran, by ten seasons. In time, you will learn more, gain experience, as I have.”
“I couldna help myself,” she cried. “Ye intruded on the most private of moments…when my mind was saturated with thoughts of…”
“Me?”
She slapped his arm and frowned. “Ye are infuriatingly arrogant.”
“Confident.”
“Arrogant!” she argued.
“All right, arrogant.”
“Ye accept that character flaw too easily.”
“I am a man.”
“Oh, no one could mistake ye for anything else.”
