Chapter 4
“Are ye that uncomfortable?” Darragh asked, drawing her gaze to him.
His voice surprised her, since they had gone straight to ignoring each other after his last hurtful words.
She hated him, it was a quick thing to decide, and she had resolved to make their journey as terrible for him as possible. She had not even realized he had been watching her all the while.
She had been squirming in her seat, her back and rear sore from bumping against her seat as the carriage traversed the rocky roads.
“Ye couldnae have put more cushions here?” she asked with a frown. “I feel as though I am sitting on rocks.”
“I daenae believe any more padding would have made the journey more comfortable for ye,” he answered in a mocking tone.
Talia glared at him again, but then looked away quickly. She could not bear looking at his handsome face for too long without her thoughts drifting.
She still could not believe she had allowed him to manhandle her, and now she was forced to endure this arduous journey to the castle so he could marry her off. The entire ordeal left her even more furious than she had been before.
She turned away from him to watch the passing scenery. In truth, she was thankful for the adventure, for she had been sheltered for the twenty-three summers of her existence. She had not even realized just how large the clan lands were or how much beauty there was to see outside the village.
“‘Tis beautiful, is it nae?” he asked suddenly.
She turned to him and noticed that he was watching the scenery as well. She turned back to look out the window and was inclined to agree.
Purple heather dotted a wide field, and in the light of the spring sun, she wished she could paint or at least frolic about to her heart’s content.
“Aye, it is,” she said after a long minute. “I havenae been this far out of the village.”
It was true.
She had been filled with even more sorrow as she watched the roads she knew like the back of her palm blur past, but the sorrow had quickly been replaced by wonder as she saw the vast fields and woods that called to her.
“Jonathan never took ye?” Darragh asked, drawing her eyes back to him.
She shook her head. “Nay. He was away more often than he was home, and I didnae feel the need to travel alone.”
She had never felt aggrieved by Jonathan’s travels once she was old enough to read. While his presence was comforting, she had always had the feeling that he was looking forward to his next adventure.
He was much like her in his inability to keep still or stay on land. She knew he loved her, but his greatest love had always been the adventures he embarked on, and she had learned to comfort herself with the little bits of time she had with him.
“Which is a wise thing to do.” Darragh nodded. “Try as I might to keep the clan safe, a young lass traveling alone could be attacked by bandits.”
“Ye keep calling me a young lass,” she pointed out. “But I daenae think ye’re much older than I am.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, and she wondered if she had struck a nerve.
Good. Because she had intended to.
He had been treating her like a young lass he was burdened to care for, and if he was not going to treat her like a grown woman, then she would not do the same with him. She could choose to ignore him, but she knew it would be no easy feat.
They were only a few hours into the journey, and from what he had told her, they had to travel for eight more days until they arrived at their destination.
She could choose to stay silent, but she had never been able to keep still.
And seeing how she would lose her mind if she ignored him until they met other people, she did not need much convincing to at least attempt to remain civil.
“Ye didnae bridle yer tongue, do ye?” he asked.
She eyed him, searching for mockery in his eyes, but there was only pure curiosity. She looked away from his intense gaze.
His green eyes unsettled her; the vibrant shade nearly matched the grassy hills rolling past them. She avoided staring into them for long, or else she would feel as though he was baring her.
“I daenae see the need to,” she answered. “Things get settled faster when we speak the truth.”
“Aye. But without wisdom, ye could upset a lot of people or get in trouble.”
“Are ye lecturing me, Laird McGhee?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest. “Because many tutors have tried and failed in this endeavor.”
And it was true.
Jonathan had hired governesses and tutors to make her into a lady of etiquette and manners, and while she could indeed fit in with high society, she had never quite put aside her need to voice her thoughts, which had upset them many times.
“Nay,” Darragh uttered. “But if it seems that way, then perhaps ye should heed me words.”
She frowned at him. “I understand Jonathan tasked ye with finding me a husband, but I assure ye, I daenae need it, and I daenae need yer words of wisdom.”
“Would ye rather I entertain ye with folly?”
She sat back, wondering if that was a joke or a serious inquiry. When she saw the corner of his lips quirk up, she laughed.
What a confusing man.
They were about to start an argument, and he found a way to defuse it so quickly. If she were not set on disliking him, she would almost consider him impressive.
“I would much prefer folly at this point to ye a lecture over the next eight days, or I might be inclined to throw meself off this carriage,” she scoffed.
“I shall do me best to entertain ye, then,” he assented with a small smile. “So ye daenae throw yerself off the carriage.”
She smiled at that, accepting the olive branch he was extending.
If he could behave civilly, then she would do the same.
In truth, she could picture expending so much energy on constant arguments. But she would rather spend her time on more entertaining adventures.
And entertain her he did.
He spent the next few hours telling her how the clan lands came to extend so far, and she marveled at the difference between the man who had insisted on her coming with him and the man trying to entertain her.
He could be kind when he chose to, and he possessed a sharp wit and a vast knowledge of the clan’s history, which she did not mind learning about.
She had not even thought him capable of talking as much as he had, yet he kept surprising her.
“I still cannae believe all of these lands were spoils of war,” she commented. “It all seems so pointless.”
“What is?” he asked curiously.
“War and violence,” she answered. “Why are men never content with their lot in life? There’s always a hunger for more. More power, more wealth, and it somehow always leads to mindless violence.”
“In this world, only the strong survive. It is because others fought and won that ye get to live unburdened by that reality.”
“I am nae unfamiliar with struggle,” she protested. “And I am nae deluded as to be against violence in general. I just daenae support baseless violence. If it is to protect yer home and family, I daenae mind, but I abhor raiding or hurting others to enrich yerself.”
“Just be thankful ye daenae need such violence to survive, Miss Collins,” he said with a rueful smile. “Or ye just may find yerself unable to hold tightly to that sentiment.”
She found herself smiling, and by the time they reached the first inn, she was more than grateful to him for making the journey less uncomfortable.
She still did not like him, but that did not mean she hated him as she once had. She would never forgive him for making her leave without saying goodbye to anyone in the village, and she still would not agree to marry for the inheritance.
She would just tolerate his surprisingly pleasant company until she was able to make her escape, and then she would find a way to put herself out of his reach.
“Laird McGhee!” the innkeeper greeted cheerfully when Darragh stepped into the inn, her smile widening when she saw Talia. “And ye have a guest today. Who might ye be, lass?”
“Me name is Talia,” she answered. “I am…”
Talia didn’t know how to introduce herself to the woman. Was she his ward now?
“Her identity isnae important, Wilma,” Darragh interjected. “We need a hot meal and beds for the night.”
Talia frowned, sending a hot glare to the back of his head.
Her identity wasn’t important? The nerve of him. Just when she thought they could finally tolerate each other, he had to prove he was an odious cad.
“Alright, me Laird,” Wilma said with a smile. “I will get ye the best room in me inn.”
Talia paled.
“Separate rooms, Wilma,” Darragh choked out. “We will keep separate rooms.”
“But ye daenae need to be so shy, me Laird,” Wilma said with a sly look, ushering them to a table. “I will think nothing of it if ye wish to share a room with yer lady.”
“We arenae acquainted in that way, Wilma,” Talia blurted. “I am just his ward.”
“Daenae worry, lass.” Wilma smiled. “I ken. I was only jesting to see me Laird’s reaction. He has never brought a lass here before nor one as bonny as ye.”
With that, she scurried away.
She returned shortly after with steaming plates of beef stew and a warm loaf of bread with a crock of butter. A lad came later with a jug of wine and mugs.
When they were finally alone, Talia turned to glare at Darragh.
“I cannae say I have ever been so insulted in me life,” she hissed. “She thought I was yer… woman!”
“Ye make it sound as though it is a great insult,” he noted, with a smirk. “If any other woman were in yer place, she would be ecstatic.”
Talia gave him a dry look that had him choking.
“I apologize,” he offered, unable to meet her eyes. “I should have told her we werenae lovers before she made the assumption.”
“Ye are forgiven,” she grumbled. “Notwithstanding, she seemed to ken ye quite well. I thought ye never traveled this far into yer lands.”