Page 22 of Forbidden Kilted Highlander

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Kept his voice steady.

“If people believe we’re married, they assume ye’re just another traveler. They dinnae look too closely. Nay titles, nay questions. A married woman on the road with her husband daesnae raise alarms. But if they see ye fer what ye are—a noblewoman traveling alone with a man like me—then they start tae wonder.”

Agnes met his gaze. Her eyes were clear, sharp. “And if they wonder?”

He didn’t blink. “Then they follow. And if they follow, they might try their luck.”

She didn’t need the rest of the explanation. She was intelligent enough to see the edges of danger. But he gave it to her anyway.

“There are people out there who would kill ye just fer the chance tae ransom ye. Others who wouldnae bother with ransom at all. Ye have nae idea how valuable ye are tae the wrong sort o’ man. Especially kenning that we have already escaped death from them once.”

She stepped forward. Just a half step, but it changed something in the air between them.

“And what are ye, then?” she asked, quietly. “Tae them?”

He knew what she meant.

What dae they see when they look at ye? What dae they assume, hearing ye claim me as yers?

Tav looked away for a second, jaw working, the question caught somewhere in his chest.

“A dangerous man with something tae protect,” he said finally.

She didn’t argue with that.

He watched her exhale slowly, the tension in her shoulders loosening but not vanishing. Her fingers brushed over the side of the bedpost absently. She was thinking.

“Ye’re angry,” he said.

She tilted her head. “Dae I seem angry?”

“Ye seem… restrained.”

Her lips twitched, but not in amusement. “Is that such a crime?”

“Nay,” he said softly. “But it’s hard tae watch.”

She looked up at him again. And something shifted.

“I’m nae angry,” she said. “I was startled. That’s all.”

He didn’t quite believe her. But he didn’t press.

There was too much else coiled in his chest.

He moved to the hearth and picked up his pack, checking the weight of it, counting supplies with his fingers. He needed something to do before he gave in to the gnawing ache of being near her like this.

“We’ll need more fer the ride ahead,” he said, turning away from her. “Bread, water, something dried if we’re lucky. I’ll go see what I can find.”

She stepped forward again. “Let me come with ye.”

“Nay.” His answer was swift. Too swift.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Tav⁠—”

“Nay,” he said again, slower now, more controlled. He turned toward her fully. “Ye stay here.”

She bristled. “I can carry things just as well as⁠—”