Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew the keepsake her mother had slipped into her hand as Alana was loaded into the carriage just afore she left Auchenford. The bauble was amber with a tiny bud of heather encompassed within. She had always admired it when it was on her mother’s chest of drawers. The shorter one where she would sit in front of the looking glass whilst getting ready.
Her mother had always kept it there, in a small, round silver dish.
Now, it brought tears to her eyes. They slipped down her cheeks and wet the blanket beneath her. She missed her mother. Her father. She sniffed softly, not wanting to draw Rory’s attention to her cries.She thought about her future. The reason for her arranged marriage—to provide a strong alliance for her clan. Financial safety for her family. Peace for her clan that would keep them from war. She understood the reasoning, but it didn’t mean that she agreed with it.
Outwardly, aye. She would never bring shame upon her family by showing any resistance to the match. Alana would do what she had to do to keep her family safe and secure. That was the duty she had been tasked with and she would fulfill it accordingly.
But that didn’t stop the tears from falling as she turned onto her side, the amber clenched in her fist.
For the briefest of moments, her eyes met Rory’s. His look was softer as he assessed her, but he said naught. He only watched her, and Alana could only imagine what he was thinking.
Chapter Five
There were ofttimes when Rory felt like an arse. This was one of those times. Last night, he had sat and watched Alana break down into tears.
Why?
He didn’t ken. He hadn’t bothered to ask. He had done naught to aid her in any way. He didn’t offer comfort or speak soothing words. No solace came from him. Instead, he just sat against the tree, watching silently as she did her best to conceal her tears—until their eyes clashed. Then there was no denying the fact.
Yet still he said naught.
Even now, as he watched her quietly wrap strips of linen around her blistered feet, he said naught.
And when she winced as she slipped her boots on, her teeth gnashing at her lip to stop herself from crying out, he, once again, remained silent.
Her strength radiated from her in waves, yet he didn’t acknowledge her in any way.
He was an arse of the worst variety.
Alana pushed to her feet, masking the pain she was for certs feeling and scooped up the blanket she’d slept on. Rolling it up as she walked to him with nary a limp in her step.
And he kenned she was in pain. He had no doubt. Her feet were inan awful state.
If he were a gentleman, he would insist that they delay their journey until her feet recovered and she could continue on with no issue.
But he wasn’t, so he didn’t. Nay, instead, he only accepted the blanket she passed to him and turned to stuff it into his travel sack.
Once he’d snuffed out the fire with his boots, they carried forward on their journey. As much as he wanted to push through at the pace they’d done the past couple of days, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Rory found himself in awe of Alana’s perseverance. Her ability to push through the pain without complaint.
Without a word actually.
She hadn’t said a thing since they’d left.
Every once in a while he would steal a glance in her direction, but their eyes never met. She was always looking at something that had caught her attention—a bird, a tree. Hell, a bug. Aught but him.
And through it all, he could see the tense of her jaw, and kenned she was clenching her teeth as she kept moving.
“I need refreshment,” he announced, and Alana paused. He didn’t. Not really. But guilt—an emotion he didn’t feel very often—had slowly been building, and he felt that he should give her a respite, even if only for a brief moment. “Ale?” He asked, handing her the skin he’d pulled from his side.
She paused so long that he expected her to refuse his offering, but she finally nodded and reached for the drink, taking a long pull. Good. Mayhap the ale would lessen the bite of pain she was enduring.
“Thank ye. Ye didnae have to stop on my account. I am perfectly fine to move on without delay.” Her voice was clipped as she spoke. “I ken ye are anxious to arrive to our destination and divest yerself of my presence.”
Rory frowned, biting the inside of his cheek. ’Twas true that he wanted this journey to be done with as quickly as possible, but when she had confronted him with the words that were whirling in his mind,guilt once again flowed over him. He realized that he hadn’t denied her statement. “Now that we are in the thick of the forest, I find myself no’ as anxious as afore.” He gave her a sincere smile, something he didn’t give freely or often. “Nature has a way of healing my anger.”
She harrumphed but said naught.
“Do ye want more?” He pointed to the skin she was still holding.
