“Ye may be capable,” Darragh said, deceptively light, “but ye’re still nae fully recovered.”
“Ye speak as if ye daenae think I can ride,” she challenged, though that didn’t feel quite right.
“That’s nae at all why I’m comin’ with ye,” he replied. He took a step closer to her, and she cursed the way her breath caught. “It’s only practical. The outer hills are uneven, and ye may need some help. I’d prefer me, guards daenae find ye on the ground incapacitated.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond. There was truth to that statement, she could tell, but there was more. It didn’t feel as though he was caging her.
Perhaps he’s tryin’ to make up for invitin’ the McGowans despite me nae wantin’ it. It’s the same as when he granted me freedom to roam the keep. An apology.
“I suppose I should thank ye for yer concern,” she said after a beat, unable to find a way to argue against his presence, “though I’m quite competent.”
He grunted, something flashing in his gaze. If she didn’t know any better, she’d mistake it for surprise. He didn’t have time to give her another response, though, as the groom approached,leading two well-behaved horses. She recognized the bay from the first time she met Darragh.
“She’s a beautiful animal,” Amelia whispered before she could stop herself.
“Aye,” Darragh agreed, leading her toward the smaller dun. “Her mother belonged to me, predecessor. Her bloodline has been in the clan for nearly as long as the clan has existed.”
She nodded, her fingers twitching at her side with the desire to reach out and touch. Instead, she stroked the snout of her own filly. “And her?”
“Her mother was a gift when I became Laird,” Darragh replied.
Amelia swallowed around an emotion she was too afraid to name. Before she’d fully recovered, he came to her side. For a moment, she tensed. Then, she realized he was only there to help her into the saddle.
“I’m capable of doin’ this meself,” she complained, though she kept her voice low and didn’t resist when he grabbed onto her wrist. “I’m nearly recovered.”
“But nae fully,” he observed, his hands coming to rest on her waist. “Daenae strain yerself before ye even get to ride.”
He lifted her, then. His hands were gentle, but she felt secure. Each one of his fingertips smoldered against her skin throughher gown. She tilted her head, allowing her hair to fall in front of her face to hide the way she blushed as he settled her comfortably in the saddle.
By the time he mounted his mare, stroking her neck with reverence, Amelia’s cheeks had cooled. Her palms thrummed with anticipation as she took hold of the reins. It had been more than half a year since she’d last had the chance to ride.
“Are ye ready?” he asked, already moving his horse forward as he glanced at her over his shoulder.
“Aye,” she replied, grinning without apology as the wind hit her face.
* * *
As soon as the crisp air washed over her, Amelia pulled her horse in front of Darragh. He said nothing, a bit enraptured by the ease with which she moved. He allowed her to keep her lead until they were out of the inner courtyard.
The hills began to open up before them when he trotted to her side. He got in close and slowed down, reaching over to run his fingers along her spine. She shivered, but immediately sat up a little straighter.
“Yer form is good,” he observed, leaving her space once more, “but ye’ll want to keep yer back a bit straighter, so ye daenae strain yerself.”
“Ye’re correct.” Her voice was clipped, and her focus was on a point in the middle distance. “It’s been a while since I’ve ridden.”
“Do ye see why I insisted on comin’ with ye?” Darragh asked.
“I’ve already thanked ye for yer concern,” she bristled, though she didn’t sound truly upset. “I cannae bow to ye if that’s what ye’re waitin’ for. I’m a bit preoccupied on me horse.”
He laughed, unrestrained and unexpected. Getting ahold of himself quickly, he said, “Nay, ye daenae have to do anythin’ like that lass. But we’re comin’ up on some steep inclines. Let the saddle absorb the slope, nae yer ribs, aye?”
She made a sound of annoyed acknowledgment, though she took his advice. Her body shifted in the leather, her hips becoming more grounded in the curve. When they began moving up, her new posture redirected the impact with each hoof fall.
As they continued their ride, he observed how she moved. She handled the horse confidently. While he’d believed that she had ridden before, he hadn’t expected her to ride quite like this. It was almost as if she were communicating with the filly silently. The trail dipped, and while the animal corrected her path, Amelia shifted her hips with instinctive balance.
She’s been on these animals enough to trust them to do their jobs.
Keeping quiet, he allowed her to go in front of him as the trail narrowed. She took the twists and uneven ground without looking away from the landscape. The light filtering in through the trees caught the curve of her nose, painting her cheeks in soft, golden light.
