Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Ye’re sure ye wish tae leave in this weather?It looks like it is turnin’ and here tae stay, if I ken me lands.”
As if to punctuate Halvard’s words, thunder echoed outside the keep, like the beating of a thousand war drums. And yet, Redfern didn’t seem particularly bothered by it. He was looking much better.
“I best be on me way,” he insisted. “Someone must inform the king of the events… and about Harcourt.”
Halvard raised a curious brow, though he did not ask the question that burned in its intensity in the back of his mind. Redfern had come to this castle as another envoy from the king by Harcourt’s side, and now he was leaving, apparently, as a neutral party in all this.
Perhaps neutral was an understatement, too. If he were to inform the king of Harcourt’s doings—assuming, as Halvard did, that the fire was his ploy—then Redfern was more of an ally to him and his clan than he had thought.
“One more day willnae make much o’ a difference,” Halvard suggested, but Redfern raised a hand. He had made up his mind.
“It is of utmost urgency,” he said.
“Well, in that case, I’ll have the servants prepare some food fer yer travels,” Halvard said as he pushed himself to his feet, standing from his chair.
At that time of the day, his study was filled with golden light when the weather was agreeable, but now it was dark, lit only by a few candles and the cold, blue light of the storm.
Rounding his desk, he made for the door, but Redfern stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
“You have been a gracious host,” he said. “And I would be failing me duty as the king’s envoy if I didn’t warn you and him of Harcourt.”
Halvard’s eyes narrowed. “There’s nay need,” he said. “I already ken what kind o’ man he is.”
“That may be true,” said Redfern. “But you may still underestimate the lengths to which he will go to get what he wants.”
“If I may be so blunt,” said Halvard, leaning a little closer to the man, “why are ye tellin’ me all this?”
“Because, Laird MacLeod,” said Redfern with a small smile, “believe it or not, my business is to support peace, not to support the English. If Harcourt begins a war here, I will have failed my duty and my king.”
With that, Redfern’s hand slipped from Halvard’s shoulder and he stepped to the door, leaving the study with a final bow to him. And despite it all, Halvard couldn’t help but think he had a good man on his side.
“What’s that?”
Halvard looked at the letter in his hands as he and Elsie sat in the solar, taking their breakfast. Ever since they had sat down, he had kept that letter in his hand, and Elsie had fought her curiosity for as long as she could. But she could no longer help the urge to ask.
At her question, Halvard’s gaze snapped up to her and he gave a small shrug. “A letter from a soldier… his family lives at the village.”
Elsie hummed softly, the memory of that day returning to her with a vicious edge.
She remembered the screams, the smoke filling her lungs, the way her heart had almost leapt out of her body when Halvard decided to run into that burning house.
She chased the memory away quickly, her stomach churning the more she thought about it.
Instead, she put down her honeyed bread ad braced herself on the table, leaning a little closer.
In the back of her mind, her governess’ voice echoed, telling her to not behave so savagely.
The more I stay here, the more I forget my manners.
Halvard let out a soft chuckle. “I cannae forget that day.”
“I don’t think any of us can,” said Elsie with a sigh. “But that’s a good thing, no?”
“Aye, I suppose it is,” said Halvard. “I shall go an’ meet with him today, in the village. Sten was supposed tae come with me, but now he’s got trainin’ tae dae.”
“I’ll come with ye,” said Elsie, jumping on the opportunity. Ever since the fire, she had wanted to go back and see how everyone was doing, but naturally, she could not go alone. Now seemed like the perfect chance to visit those people and accompany Halvard on his short trip.
This is my role now anyway. I’m the Lady of the Clan, I should be seen with him.
“Ye?” Halvard asked, sounding surprised that she offered. “It will take us all day.”
“Yes, I assumed it would,” Elsie said. “I don’t mind.”
Something in Halvard’s expression seemed to soften then as he looked at Elsie, and she felt her heart skip a beat.
“Very well,” said Halvard as he stood from the table. “Let us get ready then. The day’s passin’.”
Elsie stood with one last bite of her honeyed bred, dusting her hands as she followed Halvard to their chambers.
After dressing for the journey and heading to the stables, he handed her a horse, saddled and ready for her to ride, and she quickly climbed on—only for Halvard to give her a puzzled frown.
“Ye should ride astride,” he said. “It’s a treacherous road.”
“I’m perfectly fine like this,” Elsie said. “I have ridden like this me whole life. I doubt a bit of treacherous terrain will make any difference.”
“I would be more comfortable if ye rode astride,” Halvard insisted. “In England, lass, it might be fine fer ye tae ride like this, but here ye’ll slip an’ find yer death.”
Elsie couldn’t help but roll her eyes at how dramatic Halvard made it all seem.
She wanted to point out that she had defeated Margaret in a race, but Halvard would probably insist the terrain was smooth.
He had that look in his eyes that Elsie had seen before, the kind that bore no room for disagreement.
“Fine,” she said, forgetting everything she had been taught in favor of riding astride—but she didn’t even know where to begin.
Her dress suddenly seemed too bulky, her skirts gathering around her legs as she tried to swing the right over the saddle.
For a short while, Halvard only watched her, his arms crossed over his chest as he gave her that infuriating skirt.
“So ye dinnae ken how tae ride astride?” he asked when Elsie gave up with a huff.
Her hair was beginning to fall out of her intricate, carefully pinned updo. A bead of sweat formed on her brow, and she was suddenly too hot, even in the chilly morning air.
“I’ve never had the need,” she said. “Or the opportunity.”
“That’s alright lass,” said Halvard as he approached her. “I’ll show ye. Come, let me help ye.”
Elsie truly had no choice but to let him, but when he pulled a stool closer, standing on it to reach her with ease and grabbing her by the waist, she couldn’t help the rush of blood to her face, her cheeks flooding with color.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, his strong touch sending a shiver up her spine. It was only to steady her, only to keep her safe while she was on the saddle, but her mind didn’t seem to grasp that.
“I’m helpin’ ye get on the saddle,” Halvard said simply. “What daes it look like I’m daein’?”
“Touching me.”
“Aye. How else will I manage?”
Elsie bit the inside of her cheek, keeping herself silent. When she finally managed to swing her leg over and settle on the saddle, Halvard gave her mare a gentle pat on the flank.
“There ye are,” he said. “Now try ridin’.”
Elsie was not used to distributing her weight on the saddle like that and, though at first glance it might have seemed more natural to an observer, to her, it seemed impossible.
She held the reins tightly in her hand, fearful that her mark would start galloping too fast, her thighs tensing as she tried to keep herself steady on the saddle.
“Ye’re too stiff!” Halvard called, cupping his hands in front of his face to shout at her. “Relax! The more ye relax, the more the mare will relax under ye.”
Of course, it was easier said than done.
Elsie cursed under her breath as she tried to loosen up her muscles, taking a deep breath through her nose and releasing it through her lips.
If there was one thing she was not going to do that day, that was ridiculing herself when she was so confident in her riding skills.
It was only a matter of surrender, she told herself. She knew how to ride, she only had to get used to the new position.
Ever so slowly, she began to gain more and more confidence.
With every stride of the horse, she got used to the motion, to the stance, to everything she needed to do to stay upright on the saddle, and by the end of it, Halvard was cheering for her as she sped past him in a circle, easily maneuvering her horse.
“That’s it!” he called from where he stood in the middle of her imaginary circle. “See? It wasnae so difficult after all.”
Elsie couldn’t quite say she agreed, but she was glad to have him cheering for her. She couldn’t help but smile, her cheeks hurting with the intensity of it, with the joy that coursed through her.
Halvard rushed up to her as she brought her horse to a halt, grinning from ear to ear. “See? I kent ye could dae it.”
“Oh, I knew it too,” said Elsie in a teasing tone. “I’ve told you I’m a good rider. No one seems to believe me when I say it, though.”
“Ye’re a good rider, aye,” said Halvard. “Fer England.”
Elsie frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means here, in the Highlands, the roads are far more treacherous,” said Halvard, not for the first time. “It means ye must be far more careful An’, well… it means the Highlands breed better riders.”
“Is that so?” Elsie asked with a scoff. “Very well, if you think you’re such a good rider, how about we race?”
“Race?” asked Halvard with a chuckle. “Ye? Nay.”
“Why not?”
“Because ye will lose an’ ye might hurt yerself,” said Halvard.
Nothing was more infuriating to Elsie than a man who told her what she could and couldn’t do. She stared down at him, her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line, and then shook her head.
“If you’re afraid of losing to a woman, then you can simply say that.”
Another chuckle, this time with a harder edge to it. “Afraid? I’m nae afraid.”
“Then race me.”
It was a challenge from which Halvard couldn’t back down, and they both knew it. It wasn’t that his pride would be wounded or that they had an audience—rather, he was simply too stubborn to believe she could win.
“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “I ken a place on the way we can race. But the question is, what daes the winner get?”
Elsie raised a curious brow. ‘I wasn’t aware there was going to be a prize.”
“All bets need a prize,” said Halvard. “Or a punishment.”
“Very well,” said Elsie with a soft exhale of breath. “Then the winner may ask one favor from the other party. Whatever the winner desires, whenever the winner desires it.”
“I agree tae the terms,” said Halvard, bowing his head in agreement. “Then let us race.”
The stretch of road was more or less even, but with sharp turns. Elsie looked straight ahead, her cheeks whipped by the chilly wind. Halvard sat next to her on his horse, the two of them side by side right before what he had pointed out as a starting line.
“Alright, lass,” he said. “Remember, only up tae the big fir over there.”
He pointed to the tree he had already shown Elsie three times, and she nodded once more.
“I’m ready when you are,” she said, throwing him a cheeky smile.
Halvard laughed, shaking his head, before he shifted on the saddle, leaning forward a little. “Alright. Three, two… one!”
They both rode off, Elsie pushing her mare as fast as she would go.
It was a short distance—chosen by Halvard specifically for its length.
Their horses were of similar size, but Elsie had ridden her mare before, and she knew she was fast, just as Halvard knew it.
That, coupled with the fact that speed was one of the things in which Elsie seemed to excel, far more than long distances, gave her the advantage.
But Halvard still had the advantage of knowing the terrain. This place was familiar to him, more so than it could ever be for Elsie, who had only taken this road twice before—once towards the village and once on her way back.
It would have been foolish for him not to give himself an advantage, as well.
They both sped down the path, their horses’ hooves like thunder around them, kicking up clouds of dust that lingered in the air.
Elsie laughed, the sound bubbling out of her, and for the first time in a long while, Halvard felt truly free.
Life in the keep could easily turn suffocating, especially for a laird.
It was all strategies, war, supplies—problems. Problems he had to solve himself, and which took up all of his time.
But there was no one there now to bother him, to disturb his peace. There was nothing but the rush of wind, the feeling of the horse under him, the sound of Elsie’s laughter.
For most of the race, the two of them were side by side, separated only by a few inches. Sometimes she was ahead, sometimes he was. But by the end of it, she was pushing her mare even faster, both of them stretched to the limit of their abilities and in the end—
They made it.
Elsie crossed the finish line first, speeding past the fir. Halvard was right behind her, but she was the clear winner of the race, and she celebrated with a cry of triumph as she slowly came to a halt and steered her horse back to look at Halvard.
“Did you truly think you could beat me?” she asked, the rush of the race and her victory painting her cheeks red. “I told you, I’m a very skilled rider.”
“Aye,” said Halvard, and though he tried to appear irritated, his tone dry, there was a lift to the corners of his mouth, as he was desperately trying to stop himself from smiling. “Ye did tell me that.”
Of course, she had won. She had won because, at the very last moment, Halvard had held his horse back.
“And I was right.”
“An’ ye were right,” Halvard agreed. “So, what would ye like as yer prize?”
Elsie considered it for a moment, but then gave a small shrug. “I’ll let you know when it’s time,” she said. “I’m not sure what I want yet.”
“Well, when ye figure it out, make sure it isnae anythin’ outrageous,” said Halvard as he continued down the path, expecting Elsie to follow him. “I willnae dae it if it is.”
“It’s sweet that you think you have a choice,” said Elsie as she scrambled to follow him, finally falling into step next to him. “We agreed the loser must do whatever the winner wants.”
“Are ye always this demandin’?” Halvard asked.
“Only when I know I’m right,” said Elsie, and this time, he didn’t keep a reign on his laughter.