Page 28 of Highlander’s Quest of Desire

Chapter Eleven

They retraced their journey back to Edinburgh through the night and all the following day, avoiding the main roads. The lack of a saddle was taking a toll on Elspeth's thighs and her composure. Each time the horse rode a little faster, Elspeth was forced to clamp in her legs and mimic the lift and fall of Willow's flanks with her hips. The sensations were extremely distracting. A deep heat was building up between her legs, and she was afraid she had to relieve herself, but it wasn't altogether unpleasant.

Bruce was riding beside her, ignoring her completely. He had insisted she take the saddle after their near escape, but his cold treatment of her had hardened Elspeth’s opinion of him. She didn’t want any favors.

The spark of affection he had exhibited last night was completely gone. In a way, she had expected this behavior. How could Bruce care for her when her own family had not? She was disposable, unnecessary. Domnhall was the heir; her parents had tried for a spare but received a girl instead. They had loved her, that she did not doubt, but if she were to fall off the face of the earth tomorrow, it would be no great loss to anyone.

Adamina's treatment of her was proof of it. She had been mistreated, but no one had bothered to step in the way of her abuser. So, it stood to reason that a man might play with her emotions to gain the pleasures of her flesh, but genuine affection was not her lot.

However, she would be heard. Elspeth had read enough and observed enough to know that you did not necessarily need to be liked or even loved to have respect. The King of England was the most hated man in Scotland, but his word was law. Adamina had been loathed by the Buchan household, but they had followed her commands to the letter. And Elspeth had had enough of riding her horse in sullen silence.

"We need to stop for the night," she said.

"We will ride through the night.” Bruce grunted. “A few more miles, and we'll be on the road to Falkirk."

"I believe you misheard me," she said. "I didnae ask after our journey; I told ye my plans for the evening."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Bruce throw her a sharp look. Elspeth did not deign to acknowledge it.

"We cannae delay," Bruce said, straightening his shoulders. "Now that we ken where the heirlooms are we must make haste. We can stop to rest once we get to Bannockburn."

"Aye, ye must," Elspeth agreed. "But I shall stop at the next inn and take a room for the night. I shall follow along in the morning, donnae ye fret." With that, she sped Willow up a bit and trotted ahead of Bruce. She was certain he was throwing daggers at her with his eyes, and if looks could kill she would keel over dead. She was too tired and too worn to care.

Half an hour after their brief yet testy interaction, they came upon a small inn. Though it did not appear to be near any large city or village, it was doing respectable business. Elspeth counted at least three horses hitched to a post in front of the establishment and a solitary stagecoach. The inn itself had a pleasant look about it. Honeysuckle clung to one side of the building, like flowing hair framing a face. The curtains in the windows were plain cotton, but they swung lazily in the evening breeze, issuing a cheerful invitation to tired travelers on the dusty road.

"Before ye go," she said to Bruce, urging Willow to a halt. "Will ye be so kind as to spare me a few coins for my lodgings? I shall pay ye back in full once I get back to Blair Atholl."

Bruce looked at the inn with such ill humor that Elspeth feared the building would catch fire and the roof would cave in. Eventually, he sighed, his shoulders slumped, and he dismounted his horse.

"We leave before first light," he muttered, helping Elspeth dismount. Elspeth hid her smile. She had won this battle, though the war was still raging between them.

Walking was a relief after riding for hours. Her inner thighs were on fire, and her calves hurt when she walked, but it was far better than riding. Bruce didn't offer her his arm or assist her in any way. Instead, he took the horses to the hitching post where a boy was brushing a chestnut mare. Elspeth observed that a few words and a coin were exchanged, and the boy nodded, immediately getting up to fetch food and water for their tired beasts.

When Elspeth finally managed to get inside, Bruce was standing in the front hall arguing with the innkeeper and his wife. Men and women craned their necks from the dining room to get a glimpse at the offended party, and a large ginger cat that resided on the mantle above the fireplace looked decidedly furious at being interrupted from its nap.

"I see nae reason for ye to take such objection to me, sir," the innkeeper blubbered. He was a stout man with a pouting lower lip that jutted out, giving him the unfortunate look of a large, hairy baby. "Is nae my fault ye showed up five minutes after my second last room was let. There's still the room in the attic for ye and yer..." he broke off when he spied Elspeth. "Good evening, m'lady. Would ye mind sharing a room with yer..."

The man was clearly confused about their relationship.

"Donnae bother asking her. We willnae be staying," Bruce said coldly. "Come," he ordered, turning to Elspeth. "We'll go on to the next inn."

"There's nae another inn for miles," the innkeeper's wife said. A shock of red curls peeped out of her cap. "Ye'll be riding until past midnight 'afore ye find one. That's why we're always nearly full, sir."

"It doesnae matter," Bruce said gruffly. "We willnae stay in one room."

Elspeth had taken in the exchange with as much calm as she could muster, but this last statement broke the camel's back.

"My father didnae marry me off to ye for ye to treat me like this," she said. She didn't raise her voice, but the silence in the inn was so absolute, her voice carried well. Hands trembling worse than her legs, tears brimming her eyes, she raised her face to look Bruce straight in the eyes. "Yes, I fought with ye on the way. I was careless enough to lose the saddle and my clothes, but I told ye I am nae used to traveling like this. I have begged ye for yer forgiveness for the past three hours, but I will nae have ye force me to travel five more hours just because ye donnae want to share a room with me."

The silence that followed her small outburst was punctured with murmurs and cutting looks. The people in the dining room had all passed judgment, and Bruce Grant came off the worse for it.

Bruce's eyes were as round as dinner plates with shock. A red flush crept up his neck. He looked like he would throttle her with his bare hands.

Elspeth didn't have to stand there under scrutiny much longer. The innkeeper's wife tut-tutted and came forward, arms wide to take Elspeth into her embrace.

"Now, now, dear," she soothed, throwing a dirty look at Bruce. "Donnae shed tears for a man who cares more for saddles and his pride than his bonny wife's tears. Ah, look at the state of ye!" she exclaimed. "Let me draw ye a nice warm bath and clean these clothes for ye. Ye see to their dinner, Jimmy," she said to her husband.

Jimmy, the innkeeper, threw a cautious look at Bruce and then at his wife. Elspeth could see the wheels churning in his head, and it was clear to her that he was weighing who he was afraid of the most. His wife won.