Narrowing her eyes, Skye tried to work out whethergetting reacquaintedheld some kind of double meaning.
“Perhaps nae,” she heard herself say, perhaps a little more sharply than was necessary.
Evander, however, did not seem offended or annoyed. He shrugged, leaning sideways to peer out the window.
“As ye like. If ye prefer, I can leave ye alone.”
Skye hesitated. For a moment, she imagined a long journey stretching out before her, with nothing to do or look at beyond the inside of the litter, shadows lengthening around her.
“Ye can stay,” she allowed, a little huffily.
Evander grinned. “Very gracious of ye. If ye need food or water, or to take in the view?—”
“To take in thewhat?”
He rolled his eyes. “If ye need to piss, woman.”
She reddened. “And ye call thattaking in the view?”
“Nay, I’d call it going for a piss, but I didnae want to offend yer delicate sensibilities. Besides”—he threw her a quick, enigmatic smile—“ye didnae like it when I used coarse language. I grew out of the habit quickly.”
Skye frowned, saying nothing.
Shedidhate coarse language. But it was none of her concern, none at all, what language Evander used. Had she really been so comfortable with the man that she’d confessed her dislike of it to him? And hadhecared so much about her opinion that he’d changed his language habits?
No, that couldn’t be right.
“So, when ye say ye are going for a piss,” she said slowly, staring out the window, “does that mean that ye are really going to go and admire the view?”
He gave a short, surprised laugh. “Nay. Maybe it should.”
“Maybe nae.”
Silence fell over them after that, broken only by the clomp-crunch of wheels on the dirt path. The light grew darker as they plunged into the forest, the air cooler. Green, spindly branches brushed against the sides of the litter and occasionally scraped against the roof. Skye could hear the muted clip-clop of horses’ hooves and imagined that they were Evander’s soldiers flanking the litter. She hadn’t seen too many.
“How many men travel with ye?” she asked abruptly.
He fixed her with a curious look. “A dozen, but most of them have stayed behind to take down the tent and our other things. There are only two of me men here, plus the driver. Why? Do ye feel unsafe?”
“Nay, nothing like that.”
He nodded, but did not seem entirely convinced.
More silence followed, and Skye realized with a jolt that it would beherwho led the conversation. He was letting her speak if she wanted, and stay quiet if she preferred.
Why is he being so kind to me?
Clearing her throat, she plucked at her skirt at the knee, shaking out the few dirty inches at the hem. “So, Laird Bryden…”
“Evander.”
She missed a beat. “What?”
He lifted dark eyebrows at her. “Me name is Evander.”
“Well, I ken that.”
“We’re wed. Ye should call me Evander, nae Laird Bryden. Ye havenae called me Laird Bryden since the day we first met.”
