What a confusing man.
They were about to start an argument, and he found a way to defuse it so quickly. If she were not set on disliking him, she would almost consider him impressive.
“I would much prefer folly at this point to ye a lecture over the next eight days, or I might be inclined to throw meself off this carriage,” she scoffed.
“I shall do me best to entertain ye, then,” he assented with a small smile. “So ye daenae throw yerself off the carriage.”
She smiled at that, accepting the olive branch he was extending.
If he could behave civilly, then she would do the same.
In truth, she could picture expending so much energy on constant arguments. But she would rather spend her time on more entertaining adventures.
And entertain her he did.
He spent the next few hours telling her how the clan lands came to extend so far, and she marveled at the difference between the man who had insisted on her coming with him and the man trying to entertain her.
He could be kind when he chose to, and he possessed a sharp wit and a vast knowledge of the clan’s history, which she did not mind learning about.
She had not even thought him capable of talking as much as he had, yet he kept surprising her.
“I still cannae believe all of these lands were spoils of war,” she commented. “It all seems so pointless.”
“What is?” he asked curiously.
“War and violence,” she answered. “Why are men never content with their lot in life? There’s always a hunger for more. More power, more wealth, and it somehow always leads to mindless violence.”
“In this world, only the strong survive. It is because others fought and won that ye get to live unburdened by that reality.”
“I am nae unfamiliar with struggle,” she protested. “And I am nae deluded as to be against violence in general. I just daenae support baseless violence. If it is to protect yer home and family, I daenae mind, but I abhor raiding or hurting others to enrich yerself.”
“Just be thankful ye daenae need such violence to survive, Miss Collins,” he said with a rueful smile. “Or ye just may find yerself unable to hold tightly to that sentiment.”
She found herself smiling, and by the time they reached the first inn, she was more than grateful to him for making the journey less uncomfortable.
She still did not like him, but that did not mean she hated him as she once had. She would never forgive him for making her leave without saying goodbye to anyone in the village, and she still would not agree to marry for the inheritance.
She would just tolerate his surprisingly pleasant company until she was able to make her escape, and then she would find a way to put herself out of his reach.
“Laird McGhee!” the innkeeper greeted cheerfully when Darragh stepped into the inn, her smile widening when she saw Talia. “And ye have a guest today. Who might ye be, lass?”
“Me name is Talia,” she answered. “I am…”
Talia didn’t know how to introduce herself to the woman. Was she his ward now?
“Her identity isnae important, Wilma,” Darragh interjected. “We need a hot meal and beds for the night.”
Talia frowned, sending a hot glare to the back of his head.
Her identity wasn’t important? The nerve of him. Just when she thought they could finally tolerate each other, he had to prove he was an odious cad.
“Alright, me Laird,” Wilma said with a smile. “I will get ye the best room in me inn.”
Talia paled.
“Separate rooms, Wilma,” Darragh choked out. “We will keep separate rooms.”
“But ye daenae need to be so shy, me Laird,” Wilma said with a sly look, ushering them to a table. “I will think nothing of it if ye wish to share a room with yer lady.”
