“An hour, mayhap a little longer.”
“Is it a large village? I’ve never heard of Lenalor before. What will we find there?”
Ewan raked his hand through his hair as she began barraging him with questions again. The lady was ever curious and never silent.
“You’re not answering me again, are you?” she asked after several minutes
“You ask too many questions. I can barely draw breath to answer one before you give me three more.”
“Then I shall ask them more slowly.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because then I’d feel obligated to answer them.”
To his surprise, she laughed. It was a sweet sound, not high pitched or silly. Rather it was deep and pleasant.
“Poor Ewan, ever vexed by a maid’s simple tongue. My father oft says that if he could harness the unfailing energy of my mouth and feed it to his troops, he would never have to worry over any army defeating them in battle. He says an hour of my chatter would keep an army battling for at least three or four days.”
Ewan looked back at her over his shoulder. “Those are harsh words.”
“Nay, not at all. My father loves me and well I know it. I do talk too much. ‘Tis a fault I’ve had all my life. My mother claims it’s because I had no other sibling and since she wanted to have a large family, the good Lord gave her me. I might be a single child, but I make enough noise for several dozen.”
Ewan snorted at that.
“Was that a laugh?”
“Nay, it was a noise of agreement.”
“Mmm,” she said as she stared at him. “You know, I’m thinking that must be why you’re quiet.”
“What do you mean?”
“With so many brothers, I imagine it was rather difficult for you to be heard over them.”
“Believe me, I can make myself heard over them if needs be.”
She came to ride by his side. “I don’t know … Your voice is so deep that I doubt you could get much out of it in way of a shout.”
Nora lowered her voice to a deep pitch that sent a strange shiver down his spine. “See how when I talk like this, it’s far too deep and I can’t be very loud for the growl of it.” She raised her voice back to its normal level. “Nay, no real bellow would be possible with that. Poor you, to be so cursed.”
“Poor me, indeed,” he said under his breath, wondering why he was unimaginably amused by her.
There was something refreshing about her now that he thought about it. She was rather brash and stood up to him in a way no one other than his brothers ever had.
Most women were intimidated by his height and scowl. He’d scarce had to do more than turn a glance to a maid to send her flying off in the opposite direction, or worse, have her start giggling at him.
He hated giggling.
Nora never giggled.
Her laugh was deep. Pleasant.
Then she began to hum.
Ewan reined his horse in and stared at her.
