Page 32 of Her Accidental Highlander Husband

“Have you ever ridden bareback?” he asked out of the blue.

“Once or twice. Not since I grew up.”

He nodded. “There’s another reason I wanted you to become familiar with our lands. If ever there’s a threat, if Ridley were to return to arrest you, I want you to be ready to run and hide. You may not have a chance to saddle a horse. If ever I give you the word, I want you to take a horse and come here, to this place. There are plenty of trees for cover. Then get in the river and walk as far as ye can downstream. That will throw the dogs off your scent.”

She swallowed and looked around at her surroundings. The perfect day dimmed as the sun went behind a cloud. In the shadows of the forest she imagined faces watching her, ready to attack.

She shivered but nodded again as Cameron gave her more instructions for getting to safety.

Eventually, they reached the place he’d mentioned where they could eat.

He helped her down and took her arm to guide her to a flat area near the river. He spread out a plaid and dropped a tied linen of food in the middle. She settled on the blanket, still looking over her shoulder in case Ridley and the hounds were coming for her. While Cameron went to get them water, she opened the linen to prepare their meal.

“I need to apologize to you,” he said as he sat across from her on the edge of the blanket.

She waited for him to say more, having no idea what he’d done or why he’d bother to apologize for it.

“For last night,” he explained.

She raised her head to look at him. She wasn’t sure if he was mocking her. His sincere eyes studied her face.

Her training kicked in automatically, and she took a cautious approach.

“It’s your right to drink if you wish. I have no say in the matter.” She knew better than to nag or pester her husband about anything. The duke had made it clear that a husband had the final word, and she had no right to speak her displeasure.

“I think you have a say. If ye do not like it, you should feel free to tell me so.”

She looked away, and he reached for her. She winced and drew back involuntarily, making him frown. Moving slower, he reached out again and took her chin between his fingers so he could tilt her face up.

“You spend too much time looking down. I like to see your eyes.” His grin made her grin back. He made her feel like a young girl again, flirting with the stable groom. Back when life had been simple and it was safe to make eye contact with men.

“You were not so in your cups you couldn’t find your bed or get out of it the next morning,” she pointed out.

“Still, if you feel the urge to share your displeasure, I’d certainly listen.” He winked at her.

Was this some kind of trick? It was as if he was luring her into a disagreement. She had spent the last five years staying clear of such, knowing she’d never win, and losing was more than she was willing to risk.

“I have no complaints.” Instinct had her looking away again, but he tugged her chin up once again. She watched his eyes, expecting anger, but instead she saw what looked like disappointment.

Surely he wasn’t upset that she hadn’t nagged him or started an argument. She needed to reassure him.

“In fact,” she said, “I hope you had a pleasant evening with your men.”

“Aye, it was…pleasant.” He definitely seemed disappointed. He turned his attention to the food and looked out over the river.

“Have I done something to upset you?” she asked when she could stand the silence no more.

“Hell, no.” His surprise startled her. He placed his hand on her knee, and a thrill shot through her. “You’ve done nothing.” His voice was now calmer. “It’s just that we are strangers, you and me. I’m not sure how to change that. All the women—that is to say—the few women I’ve known…um…intimately, were lasses I’d known my whole life.”

She nodded. He couldn’t have been more of a stranger when they’d wed, and she’d been certain he was far from chaste. She’d seen the way the serving girls smiled at him. He was a handsome man. She knew she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

“Being strangers as we are, it is expected that we would have differences of opinions. Ours isn’t a love match, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make the best of the marriage. This is your home now, and I want you to be comfortable here. Which means you’ll have to tell me if you don’t like something.”

“Of course. I understand.” She did understand—not that it mattered. She would never complain to or about the man who had saved her life. As he said, it wasn’t a love match. He hadn’t wanted to get married at all, yet he was being very kind to her. She would not be so ungrateful as to make him change his lifestyle for her.

Kenna might have words freely with Lachlan, but that was different. They were in love. Kenna knew well enough it was safe to pester him.

“Good. Feel free to give me a good blasting if I need it.” He nodded, and she smiled in return.