Page 76 of Desire of a Highlander

Smoke drifted lazily from stone chimneys, geese wandered unconcernedly across the village green, and beyond the last houses she spotted exactly what she’d been hoping for—a broad, slow-moving river bordered by a stretch of flat meadow. Perfect for camping. And a bath. Oh, how she dearly wanted a bath!

As they walked into the village, the locals stopped what they were doing to watch the column arrive. Elodie couldn’t blame them. She guessed that over fifty weary travelers, carrying everything they owned tramping into your back yard wasn’t exactly an everyday sight even in this century.

A burly man emerged from one of the larger cottages and came over. His beard was neatly trimmed, and although his clothes were plain they were better made than those of the others. He hooked his thumbs into his belt.

“What can we do for ye?” he asked. “We dinna normally get so many traveling this road.”

The village was, Elodie noticed, in far better condition than any they’d passed so far. The cottages were in good repair, and the people seemed well fed and clothed. She dared to hope they might be leaving the unrest behind them.

“We’re traveling south,” Ronan replied. “We were hoping to camp by the river for the night before moving on in the morning.”

The headman didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked beyond them at the waiting column.

“That’s a fair number of mouths.”

“It is.”

“Running from something?”

Ronan’s expression remained unreadable. “We’ve had difficult times.”

The man gave a slight huff. “Havenae we all?”

His tone was pleasant enough, yet something about the way he said it unsettled Elodie. Perhaps it was the way his eyes kept moving, roving over the column. Counting. Assessing. Years of working with big corporations had taught her that sometimes people smiled while calculating exactly how much advantage they could gain.

She stepped forward with what she hoped was an open smile. “We’d be grateful for just one night.”

The headman’s gaze flicked to her. “And who might ye be?”

“My name’s Elodie.”

He looked back at Ronan. “Yer wife?”

Ronan’s expression tightened. “No.”

“A sister, then?”

“No.”

The man paused, an unreadable look flicking across his face. Elodie felt herself blushing and fought it down furiously. She’d be damned if she’d care what this man thought of her. She lifted her chin and stared at him defiantly.

Finally, the man spread his hands. “We’re not without charity. Ye are welcome to camp by the river.”

“Then ye have my thanks,” Ronan said, inclining his head. “And we’ll be gone in the morning.”

Ronan began to turn away, but Elodie was still watching the headman. “How come you’re doing so well?” she asked.

The man blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Your village,” Elodie said. “It’s the most prosperous we’ve come across all day. I was just wondering how you’ve managed it.”

The man’s expression didn’t change except for a slight tightening around his eyes. “We have our laird to thank for that. He and his men keep us safe.”

Before she could say anything else, Ronan grabbed her arm and led her away.

“What’s wrong?” Ronan asked quietly.

“I’m not sure. He just...” She searched for the words. “Made me uncomfortable.”