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Felix smiled coldly. “That’s hardly an enticin’ exchange. Ye’ll have to do better than “might” if ye want anythin’ from us.” Edwina noticed his hand tightening on the reins as he added in a murmur, “Hold on tight, Lass.”
She had no time to stop and think about what he was about to do, as he suddenly unleashed a mighty “Hi-yah!” and urged his horse into action. The stallion bolted forward, wild eyed and determined, and with Felix’s hand holding Buttercup’s reins, the mare had no choice but to follow.
A moment later, the two horses tore through the supposed “blockade,” which turned out to be nothing more than rudimentary scarecrows, positioned at intervals across the road. In the flare of the lantern light as she hurtled by, Edwina saw the grizzled and furious faces of the actual brigands. As she had suspected, there were only three. Clever, but not clever enough.
“Take the reins and ride as hard as ye can. Daenae stop until I do!” Felix shouted to her, pushing the reins back into her hands.
Brimming with a rush of anxious energy, she seized the leather and squeezed her thighs, moving with the quick rhythm of Buttercup. The mare had not let her down, and though Edwina’s nerves still raged, there was freedom in the whip of the night’s cool wind against her face and in the knowledge that they had left the brigands in their dust.
Before long, Edwina saw the faint glow of lights in the near distance. Not many, but enough to resemble a beacon of hope and sanctuary. A village of some kind.
Kinloch…she could have smacked herself for being so stupid. After all, she had asked him to explain where he had been for those two missing days.
A stride or two ahead, Felix slowed his horse. Edwina did the same, drawing level with him.
“Are ye well?” he panted, looking pale.
She nodded. “Aye, I daenae think I left too many of my innards behind us, though I almost lost them for a moment there.”
“Are ye ever serious?” He eyed her with a mixture of admiration and disbelief.
“Rarely, if I can help it, though there are many things that I am entirely serious about.” She paused. “Embroidery, for example.”
He tilted his head to one side. “Embroidery?”
“Mm, I daenae think there’s anythin’ more thrillin’ for a young lass than sittin’ for hours on end, hunched over while yer fingers seize up into a claw from pinchin’ the needle so hard, and endin’ up with a field of sewn flowers that only a lunatic could recognize as such,” she replied, letting her humor calm her.
A smile broke out across Felix’s face, bringing some color back into his skin. “Ye had me believin’ ye for a second.”
“I’m also a very good liar.” She winked. “Never big lies, of course, just wee ones to amuse myself. Then again, it seems ye’re nae always truthful yerself. Och, tellin’ me there were nae any actual brigands left in the woods wasnae so clever, was it?”
He grimaced. “I dinnae want to worry ye.”
“Well then, there’s a third thing ye should ken about me, Felix,” she said in a silky voice, leaning over in the saddle so she could whisper in his ear, “I’m nae a fool. I dinnae believe ye when ye said there were nay brigands, but I hoped ye’d have the strength to keep me safe if we happened upon any. I think it’s fair to say that ye met my expectations.”
The apple of his throat bobbed as her whisper touched his neck. “That’s all I can hope to do.”
“Is that to be yer marriage vow?” she teased a little, rocking back to her original position. “Here in this Kirk, beneath the watchful eye of God, I promise to do the least I can get away with to keep my wife happy.”
To her surprise, Felix chuckled. “Ye’d see many men tappin’ their temples, rememberin’ to write that down for their own weddings, but that’s nae my intention for us.” He flashed a grin. “I’ll do my middlin’ best to ensure ye’re happy enough.”
“How lucky a lass I am.” She feigned exuberance, fanning her face with her hand. “Do ye hear that, lasses of Scotland, my husband is goin’ to do his middlin’ best!”
He frowned. “Ye’re teasin’ me again, are ye nae?”
“I am rarely serious, and I am rarely nae teasin’,” she told him, with an apologetic smile. “And I’m only teasin’ ye now to cover the fact that I intend to do the least possible. Nay middlin’ here.”
He nodded his head, but his smile did not return. “I wouldnae blame ye.” It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but his mouth pressed into a firm line, as if locking the words away.
What were ye goin’ to add?She willed him to keep talking, but they just plodded on in silence toward the welcoming beacons of the village. As such, her mind hurried to fill in the gaps. Was he going to tell her he was sorry and that he wanted to begin again? Was he going to tell her that hedidwant more than just a middling marriage or a marriage in which they lived apart? Was he going to tell her that his heart belonged to her, after all?
The village was quaint and charming, seeming almost magical with all of the golden lanterns shining on the window-ledges of the stone cottages. There were a few wooden shacks tucked wherever there was room, but even those had a charm to them; the doorways adorned with dried flowers and hanging baskets. Being so late at night, the main thoroughfare was empty of people, but a thrum of life drifted away from one building in particular.
“This is it,” Felix said, as the horses approached that very structure. An inn with a thatched roof and wattle-and-daub walls, painted white. The cheery sound of chattering voices was louder there, accompanied by the jaunty song of a lone fiddle.
She brought Buttercup to a halt. “And what is “it” exactly? Am I to reside here until mornin’, where the stagecoach will fetch me and carry me away to a lonely tower on the coast? Is that why ye… showed me such a wondrous thing at dinner, so I could leave with a smile upon my face?”
“Nay, this is the Golden Dragon, where I hope ye’ll receive some answers,” he replied grimly, as he slipped down from the saddle and moved to help her do the same.
