Ewan did whimper as she continued onward with her tale of the cobbler and the village where he lived.
This must be his penance.
Surely the devil had sent this woman to him on this day of all days to be his torment. There was no other explanation possible.
She was his anchor. His millstone.
His cross to bear.
It would have been kinder to have him hanged, drawn and quartered.
For hours they traveled at a leisurely pace that was far more frustrating than productive. And all the while she prattled on endlessly about everything imaginable until he feared his ears would bleed from the stress.
As night approached, Ewan looked about for a place to sleep. Someplace where he could put a wide distance between the two of them before he yielded to the urge to throttle her.
He found them a small clearing beside a stream that could provide them with fresh water.
“We’re stopping here?” she asked as he reined his horse. “To sleep until morning?”
“Aye, unless it’s your wont to ride through the night.” Which he was more than willing to do. Anything to get her away from him as soon as possible so that he could return to his home and be at peace again.
She bit her bottom lip as she looked about with pinched features. “Is there not someplace we could find a bed?”
“Do you see a bed?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Is there no village nearby?”
“Aye, a few hours away and the way you travel, more like half a day or so.”
Nora stiffened. “The way I travel? What do you mean by that?”
Ewan let out a tired breath. Was the woman blind not to know the answer to that? Or was she merely trying to aggravate him more?
“How many times did we have to stop for you to attend your needs, my lady? Better still how many times did I have to circle back to your side because you were off daydreaming instead of keeping up with me? I swear a-”
“Do not swear at me. ‘Tis rude.”
Ewan snapped his mouth shut and held his tongue from saying what he really thought. If she thought that was rude, he could certainly educate her on the matter.
He dismounted and led his horse toward the stream so that it could drink.
Glancing back, he saw the look of horror on her face as she contemplated a night spent on the cold ground.
And with that image came another. That of his gentle mother and sisters-in-law.
Each one a lady who deserved only the best.
As irritating as Nora was, she was someone’s child, and probably a sister, and she wasn’t used to such hardship. No doubt she had never slept on anything save feather ticks and pillows.
Weary and tired, he remounted his horse and headed back toward her.
“Very well,” he said. “If we travel back a bit the way we came, Lenalor isn’t that far away.”
“Lenalor?”
“It’s a small village where we can eat a hot meal and you can sleep in comfort.”
Relief brightened her soft amber eyes. “How long will it take us to reach?”
