Remy looked over his shoulder, a grin on his face. “Donna fret, Ian. I can handle her.”
He hoped those words rang true.
3
Gretna moved into the carriage and lowered herself to the hard seat in a huff, her mind still reeling from what her brother had insisted on. Remy was going to accompany her. Not only him, but Gretna had counted no less than three other guards and their horses waiting to depart.
Well, at least she would be in the carriage alone for the journey. While Gretna enjoyed following the rules, she wasn’t going to take a maid with her despite her sister-in-law’s objections. She knew that they couldn’t spare one to go anyway and the last thing that Gretna liked to do was have idle chit-chat in her three-day journey. She was more than capable of dressing herself.
Pulling back the small curtain on the window, she watched as her brother and Remy shook hands on the stone steps, an easy smile between them. Her brother trusted his captain and though she would never admit it to Remy, she trusted him as well. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her without having to face the wrath of her brother.
Still, she wished he wasn’t, well, himself. Remy was tall and even had a few inches on her brother. His shoulders were broadfrom swinging a sword all his life and his tunic strained against the tanned, muscular arms that the other women of the clan fawned over. Gretna had heard the whispers about Remy and the ways he could make a lass feel and none of them seemed to care that they weren’t important in his life.
That was one of the many reasons she didn’t like him. He used women as objects, a means to warm his bed, and nothing more. That was not what Gretna was looking for in a husband.
A groan escaped her. Nay, Remy was not husband material and didn’t even belong in her thoughts as such! She imagined that he would never settle down and she would have a passel of bairns, hopefully with McCellan blood in them in a few short years, warming the same man’s bed rather than hopping to another one, which was what Remy did.
Her lips turned in disgust and she let the curtain drop. She would tolerate him on this journey for the sake of her purpose and nothing more.
A knock startled her out of her thoughts and the door opened, revealing the object of her thoughts. “I thought ye would like tae know we are getting ready tae depart,” Remy said, leaning against the doorframe. “Would ye like for mah tae ride in here with ye?”
Gretna shot him a glare. “Several minutes late I might add and nay. I can entertain mahself.”
“That’s something I’ve never been told before,” he teased, winking. “Sit back, Gretna. This will be a long journey.”
Gretna’s cheeks burned as he shut the door and the carriage lurched into movement, detesting him even more. He thought everything about life was a jest.
The journey wasn’t comfortable in the carriage, but Gretna didn’t complain, her body jarring with every rut they encountered. After a while, she wondered if the driver was intentionally hitting the ruts. Luncheon came and went, with Gretna finding some hard cheese, bread, and fruit in a basket by her feet. She tried to read and even do some needlepoint, but in the end, Gretna caught snatches of sleep instead, finding it impossible to do much else.
The sun was starting to dip low in the sky when the carriage finally shuddered to a stop and the door opened, revealing a grinning Remy. “We are stopping for the night.”
Gretna gave him a tight nod, ignoring his hand as she unfolded herself out of the carriage, her legs protesting the moment her feet touched the ground. A hand grabbed her arm and kept her upright. “Careful there,” Remy murmured in her ear, stirring the stray hairs against her skin. “Ye donna want tae fall flat on yer face.”
Her skin pricked with the awareness of how close he was to her, the smell of horseflesh and sandalwood wafting over her, and Gretna’s breath stammered in her chest.
Nay! Wrenching away from him, she forced her legs to work. “Donna think I can’t handle mahself, Remy.”
Remy crossed his arms over his chest, his muscular forearms flexing with the movement and Gretna’s stomach clenched involuntarily. “I never doubt that ye canna handle yerself, lass.”
It was the way he said it, that sensual voice of his that Gretna had to turn away before he could see the pink on her cheeks. That was not happening. She was not going to fall for his charms.
She heard him chuckle before he brushed past her and led the way into the inn, where the main room was nearly deserted. The innkeeper looked up from the table he was wiping down. “Can I help ye?”
“Two rooms,” Remy started, pulling a pouch from his belt. “And evening meals delivered tae each room.”
The innkeeper slapped his rag over his shoulder, a gleam in his eyes as he took the weighted pouch. “Aye, right away. I have two rooms. How many meals?”
Gretna turned away from the conversation and looked about the room, forcing herself to forget about the way her body had reacted to Remy minutes earlier. Remy was not the person she would deem worth her time nor would her brother allow such a match between them.
Wait. Was she truly thinking about the prospect? Gretna snorted. No. Not even close.
Remy walked back toward her. “Our rooms are upstairs. This way.”
When they arrived at the rooms, Remy inserted the key and opened the door. “This is yers, lass.”
Gretna stepped in and stopped short when the lamp flared to life. The room was dismal, smelling of piss and some other smell she didn’t want to think about. Her nails dug into the skin of her palm as she felt the rising panic. All she was looking forward to was a comfortable bed after the ride in the carriage, yet the bed was sagging nearly to the floor, the quilt worn and in need of a good scrubbing.
Her lungs tightened at the thought of even touching the bed and she pressed her fist to her chest, attempting to force the air in.
