Chapter 4 #2
The question caught her off guard. She twisted slightly, trying to see his face, but the angle was awkward. "I don't know. What do you see me as?"
"A problem," he said bluntly. "And possibly a solution."
"That's not reassuring."
"It's honest." His tone softened slightly.
"The Regent wants me wed tae an English bride.
Someone of his choosin', meant tae tie me closer tae England and further from the Highland alliances he daesnae trust. I dinnae want tae be controlled like that.
Ye were an English bride who needed savin'.
It seemed like it might work fer both of us. "
"Saving." She turned the word over in her mind, found it wanting. "Is that what you call it?"
"What would ye call it?"
"Buying."
"Aye. I bought ye. And I'll nae lie and pretend otherwise." He was quiet for a moment. "But I didnae buy ye tae own ye, lass. I bought ye tae keep ye from bein' owned by someone worse."
"How noble."
"I never claimed tae be noble." There was an edge to his voice now. "I claimed tae be practical. The regent wanted me tae take an English wife. Ye needed tae nae be sold tae Langley. I had the coin. It worked out."
"For you, perhaps."
"Fer both of us, if ye'd stop bein' so damned stubborn about it."
"Stubborn?" She twisted more fully now, anger giving her courage. "You bought me at an auction, told me we're getting married, and you're calling me stubborn for having questions?"
"I'm callin' ye stubborn fer nae listenin' tae the answers.
" His jaw was tight, but his arms around her remained steady on the reins.
"I told ye, the regent, the Duke of Albany, summoned me.
I told ye, we're ridin' tae Alnwick. I told ye, we need tae be married before we arrive. What more dae ye want?"
"I want to know why you chose me!" The words blurted out before she could stop them. "There were other women at that auction. Younger women. Prettier women. Women whose fathers would have taken less coin. Why me?"
David was silent for so long she thought he wouldn't answer. The horse's steady gait filled the quiet, along with the jingle of tack and the distant call of winter birds.
"I dinnae ken," he said finally.
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have." His voice was low, almost reluctant. "I thought ye looked like I felt. Trapped. Controlled. Bein' pulled in directions ye didnae choose by men who thought they had the right." He paused. "And I thought, maybe if I could get ye out, I could get meself out too."
The honesty of it stole her breath. She'd expected justifications, pretty words, the kind of noble declarations men made when they wanted to seem heroic. Instead, he'd given her the raw truth: he'd saved her because saving her meant saving himself.
It should have made her angry. Instead, it made her trust him more than any declaration of noble intentions could have.
"The Duke of Albany controls you?" she asked quietly.
"He thinks he daes. The Covenant thought they did before that. Every man in a position of power over me has thought they could dictate me life." His arms tightened fractionally around her. "I'm done with it."
"What Covenant?"
"Never mind," he gritted.
Elinor nodded. "Was marrying me your rebellion?"
"Marrying ye is me choice." He was quiet for a moment. "Is that answer enough?"
Elinor considered. Weighed his words against everything that had happened. Found them, if not comforting, at least truthful.
"For now," she said.
"I'll take it."
They rode on as the sun sank lower, painting the winter sky in shades of amber and rose.
Gradually, despite herself, Elinor felt some of the rigid tension leave her spine.
She was exhausted, she realized. Bone-deep, soul-tired in a way that had nothing to do with the ride and everything to do with the day—the week, the years—that had led to that moment.
"Ye can lean back if ye need tae," David said quietly. "I'll nae let ye fall."
"I don't need to."
"Lass, ye're about tae fall asleep sittin' up. Either lean back or I'm goin' tae tie ye tae the saddle."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me."
She heard the smile in his voice and felt an answering pull at her own lips. Against her better judgment, she let herself lean back slightly. Just enough to take the strain off her back. Just enough to feel the solid warmth of him behind her.
"There," he said softly. "That wasnae so terrible, was it?"
It wasn't terrible at all. That was the problem.
"David!" Tristan's voice cut through the comfortable quiet. "There's a chapel ahead. Just off the road."
Elinor felt David shift behind her, sitting up straighter. "Where?"
"Through those trees. See the spire?"
She followed Tristan's pointing finger and saw it, a small stone chapel, its cross catching the last of the daylight.
"It'll dae," David said.
"Do for what?" Elinor asked, though she had a sinking suspicion she already knew.
David's arms tightened around her as he urged the horse toward the chapel. His voice, when it came, was quiet but implacable.
"Fer a weddin', lass. What else?"