Page 73 of In Bed with her Highland Foe

“This way,” he called to her.

The horses shot off through the woods. He led the way, with Kyven following closely behind. Neither of them said anything for a while, both focusing too much on racing as fast as they possibly could.

Gilchrist lost track of time. Everything was a blue of Douglas fir branches, streams and lochs of water, and bracken under foot. They raced up hills and down dales again, but all of it was familiar, much more so than Gilchrist had initially wanted to believe.

They eventually came to a stop at the top of a hill, set between even taller mountains. Set on a white chalk path, the two of them turned to face each other, both breathless, the morning light streaked across their faces in an orange glow. Gilchrist stared at Kyven’s freckled face and the bloodstain on her cheek. She was safe, at least, but the anger… it felt like it pierced into his heart.

“We’re nae in me clan anymore, are we?” she asked, her voice tremulous. “I dinnae ken these lands.”

“Nay.” He shook his head. “But I ken them. I ken a safe place we can go. First, we’ll find somewhere far from here, a town where we can take rest. Follow me.” He turned the horse, but was acutely aware that this time, her horse’s hooves didn’t follow. He stopped and turned back to face her.

That same glower of suspicion was in her face once again as the wind picked up her hair and made it tangle in the air behind her.

“Trust me,” he pleaded.

“I cannae.”

“Ye can,” he insisted. “A name isnae the summary of a man. I’ll explain everything tae ye, but nae here.” He pulled on the reins again. This time, he was relieved to hear her horse’s hooves following him.

Gilchrist opened the door of the inn, gesturing for Kyven to go inside first. She seemed wary, but as he continued to stand there, silently, she eventually relented. Darkness was falling once again for they had been riding for long. They’d only stopped to find food and water on their journey but were now both exhausted and in need of rest.

Inside, Gilchrist requested a room for the night.

“Can ye pay?” the innkeeper said suspiciously, staring at Gilchrist’s shivering body. He still had just his shirt and trews on. In the icy cold of the day, he had wondered just how possible it was to die from the cold.

“Use this.” Kyven walked toward the pair of them, away from the tables in the inn where people were sat together drinking ale and mead. She took a ring off her hand and placed it on the wooden hatch in front of the innkeeper. His eyes widened at the glinting gold. “Can we have some food and ale too please?”

“Aye.” The innkeeper’s face softened. “Wait there.” He drifted off into the recess of the inn.

As Gilchrist inched toward the nearest fire, doing his best to warm up, he tried to catch Kyven’s eyes through the candlelight. She was doing her best to avoid looking at him though. She didn’t even follow him to the fire, despite the fact that she too was shivering.

The innkeeper returned a second later. He handed Kyven what appeared to be a clean gown and shawl, along with a cape, then he turned to Gilchrist and offered up fresh trews and a shirt, along with a thick jerkin.

“That ring buys a lot, and I recognize two people in need. Take them. Here’s yer room for the night.” He passed Gilchrist a single iron key. “Up the stairs and tae yer left.”

“Thank ye,” Gilchrist said with full feeling and the innkeeper smiled, waving them on.

Gilchrist felt certain Kyven was going to object when she realized they were only getting one room for the night, but to his surprise, she didn’t. She just led the way up the stairs, moving fast and holding onto the new gown tightly. At the top of the stairs, she moved to the side, giving Gilchrist a lot of room in order to unlock the door.

Gilchrist stepped inside with Kyven following him. They went through the motions wordlessly. She lit candles as he placed buckets of water on the fire. It was a small room, with a bed pushed to one end, but there was enough room by the fireplace for a bathing tub. He intended for the two of them to bathe, to wash the dirt from their ride and the dried blood off them. He was still heating up the buckets when a tap at the door signaled the arrival of their drinks and food. He took them from the maid then shut the door again.

“Kyven?” he said, looking at where she stood by the fire. Her green eyes looked orange in that light. “Would ye like tae bathe first?”

It was the wrong thing to say. Those eyes flashed in anger, and she jerked her head up. Without warning, she flung herself across the room. Any hope he might have had that she was coming to embrace him was a grave mistake. She started pummeling him, punching him as best as she could in the chest. Each one of her strikes was light though, and he just took it, allowing her to deliver her anger.

“How could ye? How could ye!?” she wailed loudly. “Me father… what ye and yer brothers did tae me father, and yet ye hid in me clan. Have ye nay honor? Nay dignity? Nay heart at all!”

He caught her wrists this time, softly, but his grip was still stronger than her own might, and she couldn’t pull out of his grasp again.

“Nay,” she pleaded, pulling back from him.

“I have a heart. I have honor,” he insisted. “I would have told ye everything.”

“When!?” she spluttered, pulling on her hands again. “When we were rolling in yer sheets? Or acting out one of those fantasies on the hearth rug in the library? Let go of me!” she demanded.

He released her, afraid to deny her everything.

She toppled away in surprise and nearly fell into the bathtub. He went to catch her, but she brushed him off fast, racing around the bathtub to get away from him.