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“Assisting you abovestairs.”
“Kerr,” he said. “You’re staying the night?”
Reid looked at the maid once more. “I do believe I am,” Reid said.
Graeme began to lead her away from the table. “Then we will speak in the morning.”
“Graeme?” She suddenly felt quite strange and was glad for her husband’s arm.
“I know, you will be well once we get to bed.”
“Did I drink too much ale?”
“I believe so, my lady.”
She smiled.
“Smile now, my queen,” he whispered. “You won’t be doing so in the morning.”
24
“Graeme, will you please ask the men not to shout?”
They’d stopped to give the horses a rest, which Gillian had been glad for since this morning’s ride was easily the most horrific of her life. With every movement, her head hurt more than the last, and no amount of rubbing her temples seemed to help. She longed for chamomile tea and a hot bath. In fact, she could barely stop thinking about how much she needed both.
“I would, if they were shouting,” he replied.
He tore off a chunk of the bread Magge had given him before they left. The innkeeper had openly flirted with him, but in a teasing way that hadn’t bothered Gillian. Something else had.
Her unfortunate encounter with Reid Kerr.
No sooner had she emerged from her room that morning, preparing to meet Graeme, who had already gone down to the hall to break his fast, than she’d bumped into Reid in the hallway. Literally. Gillian had been walking along, mayhap with her eyes a bit closed due to the sunlight streaming in from a far-off window at the end of the corridor, and slammed straight into his chest. He’d laughed heartily despite her pleas to lower his voice.
“Did the lass have a wee bit too much ale?”
Gillian had not been prepared to spar with him so early. “Perhaps.”
“You should be more careful.”
She did not need a lecture. “And you should mind your manners.”
Now, thinking back, Gillian wasn’t exactly sure why she’d said such a thing. He hadn’t, in fact, done anything wrong. But she simply didn’t care for the man.
Graeme took her hand and whispered to Malcolm, “We will be right back.”
She allowed him to lead her into the woods. It was much quieter here. The wet grass, evidence of an earlier rain although they’d been lucky enough to avoid it, drenched her leather boots.
When she heard the sounds of the river, Gillian froze. “Nay, I—”
“This time, I will go to the water’s edge with you.”
She looked at him and would have laughed if her head had not hurt so badly. “I still can’t believe I fell in. On our wedding day.”
Graeme pulled her along.
“You saved me.”
He didn’t respond. Did he realize she spoke of more than just the day she’d tumbled into the river? Likely not.
