Page 28 of Highland Seduction

“And victory.” Tor stuck out his hand. “Be well, my friend. Until we meet again.”

Scott took his hand and pulled Tor to him. He whispered something that deepened her husband’s frown. Tor gave him a look that she could not precisely discern and bid him adieu.

“Fare thee well, lovely Lady Ainsley,” Scott said.

“And ye,” she replied, moving toward her horse and mounting. Tor did the same after handing her the bread he’d mentioned, and they rode from the village in silence. The dark gave way to sunlight, the buildings of Mend Hayle well behind them.

“Ye’re angry with me,” she said finally. Tor’s usual good humor was gone. Talk of the kiss they’d discussed last eve had been left behind in the village.

“Nay, I am no’.”

He lied. Though she could think of naught she’d done that should have raised his ire toward her.

Ainsley attempted to put the thought from her mind. Instead, she considered the days ahead, preparing for their meeting with the bishop. In Berwick, she would need a gown. They would also need a way to find Ian and Marta, for even if the pair were in the city, they could easily go unspotted by just two people. She’d brought coin and thought to offer it for information, but admittedly, she had little experience with such things.

Not wanting to need Tor, she asked him nonetheless, “How will we find Ian and Marta if they are, indeed, in Berwick?”

The land was, thankfully, flat. Marshland to the left, hills off in the distance to their right, the road was well-worn and empty at the moment. How did Tor know where he was heading? From being more experienced with travel, most likely.

“I’ve a plan,” he said, without looking at her.

“One ye will no’ share with me?”

The way he looked at her left no doubt. Tor was angry with her and had been since they left the inn this morn. Though he’d not mentioned the kiss again, he had not seemed upset when he came to the room.

It came to her then. “How did ye get into the room last eve?” The look he gave her as they rode explained it. “I forgot to lock the door.” Annoyed, she said, “This is why ye’re angry so?”

“Ye put yerself in danger, Ainsley.”

“’Twas a mistake,” she said, urging her mount forward to catch him. As they spoke, Tor moved ahead of her, apparently not wishing to speak to her.

Ainsley rode beside him. She respected her older sister, loved and cherished her, but had learned one thing from her refusal to leave her cottage. Ignoring a problem did not make it go away. His silence would not stand with her. She glared at him as they rode, waiting for him to respond.

“My anger had naught to do with the room.”

“Our marriage?” she guessed. “I wish for this annulment as ye do.”

He made a sound of disgust. “I am no’ angry with ye, Ainsley.”

“Tor—”

“I am angry with myself.”

“Ye seem to do that often,” Ainsley mumbled. Whether he ignored her, or did not hear her, Ainsley could not be certain. “Why?” she asked simply, instead.

In response, Tor sat up straighter, slowing down. She did so as well, but he no longer looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She neither saw, nor heard, aught. But Tor clearly did.

Ainsley was prepared to ask him about it when the sound reached her. A moment later, from around the bend hidden behind a thicket, riders. Five of them. All wearing padded gambesons.

Reivers.

“Ride over here,” Tor commanded, “to my left.”

She did so immediately. If the sight of the men had not worried her, Tor’s expression did. She gripped the reins more tightly as they waited.

“Is the knife yer brother taught ye to use within reach?”

“Aye,” she said, her voice shaky.