“I promised no’ to touch ye in a way ye did no’ welcome.”
“I do no’ welcome being lifted off my feet.”
“Do ye no’?” He narrowed his eyes on her. “Well, ye should thank me. For do no’ let Evan’s intoxication fool ye—he can hit back, and hit back hard. He would ha’ swatted ye like a fly.”
Some—not much—of Annista’s anger drained away. “Ye were protecting me, then.” Aye, she’d sensed he wanted to do that.
“Trying to. I can see it may be a hard task.”
She drew a breath that failed to calm her agitation. She supposed, aye, she should be grateful. No one had reached a hand to protect Robena.
At least she had this man. For what he was worth.
“Come,” he said again, not touching her. “Walk.”
The graveyard was a pretty place with a large and no doubt ancient yew tree growing beside the gate. Annista wondered again if Robena was buried there. She should ask Alan for the place.
Perhaps not now.
They reached the stone wall that hemmed in the graves and stepped through. Annista paused.
What a braw, wild sort of country this was. Back home, the land was, aye, rugged. People lived rough lives close to the land and, in truth, their chief did not claim much more in the way of luxuries. But this place…
The land itself yawned wide, all green and gray with rock and turf, looking like it had been raked up by the hand of some ancient creature such as a dragon. Ahead of them, the broad valley raised northward to a line of purple peaks. The beauty of it was almost brutal.
She drew another breath, but Alan urged her again, “Come.”
He started off across the raked, broad plain with his hands in his pockets. Annista followed. For some distance they kept silent. Annista could hear bird song—a lark that was, surely—and the sunlight warmed her face.
“About this promise we have,” he said then.
“Which one?” They had just promised to take one another in marriage.
“No’ to touch one another.”
“Oh. Aye.”
“There will be times like just past when ’twill be impossible to keep. When I am expected to escort ye, for instance, or if ye decide to attack someone else.”
“I am no’ going to attack anyone. Besides him.”
“Be that as it may—”
“Verra well.” She had not the patience to argue it with him. “I tak’ your point.”
He shot her a sideways look. Out here in the sunlight, his hair gleamed like the wing of a blackbird and his eyes had turned a lighter, clearer gray.
“What I thought ye meant,” he went on reasonably, “was we would avoid touchin’ one another in any way that was—”
“Amorous?” Annista suggested when he struggled for a word.
“I suppose that will do, Mistress.” He turned to face her. “I ha’ no desire for relations wi’ ye.”
“Nor I wi’ ye.” She frowned. Was she so entirely unattractive to him that he remained certain she would hold absolutely no allure, ever?
“Touching one another, in all politeness, may be unavoidable.”
“All right.” She did not point out that him hauling her off her feet had held no hint of politeness. “’Tis agreed so.”
