Rory chuckled. He couldn’t help it.
“Let us go. We’ve much road to cover afore we can rest for the night.”
Once they were outside of the village, Rory set a brisk pace, not looking back to see if she was keeping up. A spike of guilt slithered up his spine. If his father saw how he was behaving, he would box his ears at the very least. But that was Arthur’s own fault for forcing this damned task upon him. He had been perfectly happy earlier. Ready to prepare for another hike that would take him away from Hartsmoor for a few days, a sennight even. His favorite thing to do—to be alone.
One could argue he was indeed being taken away from home for a few days, but it wasn’t the same. He wasn’t alone. He wasn’t able to hear the beauty of the environ surrounding him. Nay, instead all he heard was her unhappy mumbling behind him, like a constant chatterdrowning out any peace and quiet he would normally glean as he hiked.
He fully expected her to fall behind due to the pace he was keeping. He kenned he was being an arse. Kenned full well. So, he was surprised when he turned to look over his shoulder and found her right behind him.
Even more surprised to find her complaining had ceased. The look of irritation she had worn earlier had been replaced by determination. Her face was red with exertion.
A sense of pride warmed him, but he quickly tamped it down. Why the hell should he feel pride that she was determined to keep up—even if he had purposely set a fast pace kenning she would have difficulty with it.
He slowed as they came to a bubbling burn. Alana slowed as well, her chest heaving from the struggle of walking so quickly, and again, he felt a wee surge of guilt.
“We need to cross. ’Tis narrower here so ’twill be easier.” He stepped into the water, and turned to her, offering his hand.
Refusing, she let out an exasperated breath as she stubbornly hitched up her skirts and began to cross. Only for her boot to slip on a wet stone causing her to splash into the water, an oath passing her lips.
He didn’t catch her. Again, he was acting like an arse.
Which only angered her even further. Dripping wet, her hair clinging to her cheeks, she stomped out of the burn, dropping her bag on the ground so she could gather her skirts and squeeze the water out of them. “Great. Once again, I must suffer with wet boots.”
“Need I remind ye that I offered to help?”
“Nay,” she snapped. “Nay ye dinnae. I remember weel enough, thank ye.”
“I dinnae suppose ye packed another pair of boots in yer bag?” Rory asked, kenning full well she had not.
She rolled her eyes at him, ignoring the question. She reacheddown and picked up her bag, slinging it over her shoulders and gave him an exasperated look. “Weel.” She sliced her hand through the air. “Shall we continue?”
Rory pressed his lips together, fighting the laugh that threatened to spill from his lips. Something he had had to do a few times since meeting Alana Duran. And not something that was in alignment with his usual countenance. Lord above she was a spitfire now, he could only imagine her ire at him if she found him laughing at her.
“Are ye for certs we are headed in the right direction?” She asked some time later.
“I will have ye ken I am kenned far and wide for my superior hiking skills,” he said proudly. “Tracking skills as weel.”
Again, she rolled her eyes as she clutched her hands in front of her chest in exaggeration. “Weel, then, I will keep that in mind when I am in search of a lost item.”
It was his turn to roll his eyes. Damn this lass. She was irritating beyond belief. Even moreso than his sisters, all three of them, and that was saying a lot.
“Ye didnae answer my question.”
He sighed in exasperation. “Aye. I ken where we are going.”
They came across a large fallen tree. Rory climbed over first, and then turned and offered his hand. This time, Alana accepted it, placing her small hand in his, and he helped her over.
“How long will it take to arrive to my betrothed’s lands?”
Rory shrugged. “Three days.”
“Three days!” She yelled, sending the birds scampering out of the trees, taking flight for the skies. “For certs ye are taking the long route to make me suffer.” Accusation laced her words.
“I am no’. I wouldnae do that. I may no’ be happy aboot this task, but I will ensure to deliver ye to yer betrothed safe and sound.”
“There must be a shortcut or two we can take. I cannae fathom hiking for such a long time. ’Tis unnecessary.”
With his jaw clenched, he took a few calming breaths afore speaking. “That is where ye are wrong, Lady Alana. Naught good comes of a shortcut.”
