Page 34 of Forbidden Kilted Highlander

Tav’s jaw tightened, his gaze flicking toward the shadowed treeline as though the answer might be written there. “Laird Armstrong wouldnae send scouts fer that.”

It was a good answer. Dismissive enough to calm the nerves of someone easily pacified. But Agnes wasn’t.

She frowned, something cold slipping down the back of her neck. “But they said…” Her voice was quieter now, the weight of realization dragging it lower. “They kent I left only with ye?”

Tav didn’t speak at once. His silence stretched, taut as a bowstring. And in that pause, she felt it. The truth threading through the air between them.

“Aye,” he said finally. “I think they kent.”

Her stomach twisted. “Ye think they followed us from the castle?”

“Maybe nae directly,” Tav said, eyes narrowing. “But the scouts—those men—they were nae wanderin’. They were expectin’ tae find us on that road.”

Agnes nibbled at her lower lip, the words tumbling out before she could stop them, "Dae ye think Armstrong’s got some quarrel wi' the clan?"

Tav's shoulders lifted in a weary shrug. "Could be. Cannae say fer certain."

"But what else would make sense?" She drew a steadying breath, fingers twisting in her skirts. "Why ride all this way just tae meddle wi' me marriage? Why fixate on us?"

"They're huntin' us." Tav's voice carried the grim finality of a slamming door. "That's all that matters now."

Agnes looked away, her throat tightening. The hide-and-seek tension, the silence in the trees, the way Tav had gone still when he heard the voices… they had come looking for them. That more than anything chilled her blood. Agnes drew her arms around herself. The chill in her spine had returned.

“Then we should ride ahead,” she said, lifting her chin.

For a moment, Tav didn’t answer. He just looked at her. She watched his throat move as he swallowed, like the words caught there burned on the way down. For the first time, she dared to wonder if duty wasn't the sole tenant of his mind. Perhaps, in some shadowed corner of his heart something else had taken root? The thought terrified her even as it kindled a dangerous hope. And just as quickly, it was gone. Locked behind that grim, impassive mask he wore like armor.

He finally nodded then said, “Aye. We should.”

He stepped forward and offered his hand, steady as ever. Agnes took it, fingers curling around his palm as he guided her to her horse. The contact was brief, but it lit another flame low in her belly. Something dangerously close to longing.

She swung into the saddle with his help, settling herself with a slow exhale.

As she settled, Agnes blinked hard against the wave of dizziness that swept over her. Her limbs felt heavy now, like they belonged to someone else. The tension that had held her upright moments ago had drained from her all at once, leaving a strange, hollow ache in its place.

Her hands trembled where they gripped the reins. She tucked them into the folds of her skirt, hoping Tav wouldn’t notice. Her palms were clammy despite the cool air, her heartbeat still stuttering as though her body hadn’t yet accepted that the danger had passed. It felt as if she was still waiting for the men to ambush them, appearing out of thin air. Just as they had all those times before.

A breath hitched in her throat. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been until now—until her muscles began to throb with the aftershocks of stillness and silence, until her spine ached from holding herself too straight for too long. Agnes squared her shoulders anyway, forcing her back to straighten once more.

Tav reached for his own reins. “We’ll take the river bend trail. Less likely tae be watched. But it’s rougher.”

Agnes smirked, despite herself. “Rougher roads suit me fine.”

He glanced at her, lips twitching again. “I’ve noticed.”

And with that, they turned back toward the trees and rode on, deeper into the forest, and whatever waited beyond.