Chapter 10 #2
Ruby sat back on her heels as Isla rolled to her side and vomited river water onto the mud. Duncan let out a strangled cry and pulled his daughter into his arms, kissing her forehead, sobbing with fear and relief.
Ruby sagged, breathing hard. Dizziness washed through her and she feared she might faint.
But a steadying hand pressed against her back and a voice murmured by her ear. “Easy, lass. I’ve got ye.”
She slumped against Evan, leaning against his solid, reassuring strength.
He said not a word but his arm came around her and held her against him.
When the dizziness receded a little, she looked up at him and found him gazing back.
There was no teasing or arrogance in his expression this time.
Instead, she saw something in his gaze that made her skin tingle.
“We’re not going any further today,” Duncan announced. “Make camp but be sure not to get too close to the water in case of flood.”
No one argued. Guards rushed to set up camp while others retrieved the horse and salvaged the wagon.
Ruby climbed unsteadily to her feet—and nearly fell. Evan caught her immediately, hands warm and strong.
“Careful,” he said softly.
Then, to her shock, he drew her into a tight, fierce hug. Ruby froze for half a second. Then she melted into him. Her arms slipped around his waist and she rested her chin on his shoulder, eyes sliding closed as she savored the feel of him.
She didn’t know what had prompted this show of affection. But she did know one thing. She liked it.
THE MOORS ALWAYS FELT different at night.
The wind through the heather seemed to be whispering secrets for those with the ears to listen and the darkness felt like a velvet blanket that was soft against Evan’s skin.
He felt at home here, beneath a sky pricked with stars and a moon that painted the world in silver.
He breathed deeply, filling his lungs with the sharp, clean air.
His borrowed horse moved beneath him as he guided her at a slow walk back to camp, not wanting to risk any greater speed in the dark.
He’d been out scouting for most of the evening and hadn’t found any sign of pursuit.
No hoofprints where they shouldn’t be, no distant firelight or trampled grass or broken stems that would indicate a band had passed through.
There was just the night, the wind, and his path.
He liked the solitude. Always had. As a boy, he’d escaped to the woods and hills any chance he got.
While his brothers were cooped up learning arithmetic or Latin or whatever useless thing the tutor decided was important that week, Evan had slipped away to the gamekeeper’s cottage to help track game or repair a broken fence.
Out there, he could run wild, climb trees, and breathe without being corrected.
Although, he had to admit, the thought of a warm fire and something hot to eat was greatly appealing after the events of the day. But that wasn’t the real reason he had to keep stopping himself from urging the horse to greater speed. That was because he was riding back to her.
Ruby.
He scowled. It was stupid. Reckless. Dangerous, even. Yet he found himself looking forward to seeing her more than he was looking forward to a warm fire and hot food.
She confused him no end. Sharp-tongued one moment, terrified the next, then bold enough to demand a weapon from him during a bandit attack. And today... saints preserve him, the woman had brought Isla back from death with her bare hands and sheer will. He’d never seen anything like it.
He guided the horse down a slope toward the small hollow where the caravan had made camp.
From above, the land looked empty—nothing but sweeping darkness.
Anyone passing through wouldn’t see the camp unless they were right on top of it.
Evan nodded to himself, approving the choice.
It seemed Isla’s father knew what he was doing.
As he reached the hollow, the glow of the fire touched him first—an orange flicker dancing against the dark canvas of the night.
Guards and wagons were indistinct shadows around the perimeter.
He scanned the scene, searching for Ruby.
She sat near the fire with Isla, who was wrapped in blankets but looked significantly better than she had earlier.
They were talking softly, both cast in flickering firelight.
Ruby laughed at something Isla said and Evan’s chest constricted at the sound. He nudged the horse through the ring of guards, and into the light.
Ruby looked up at the sound of hooves. Her expression shifted from relaxed conversation to sharp concern and she scrambled to her feet.
“Did you see anything?” she asked as he dismounted.
He shook his head. “No pursuit. No tracks. Night’s clear.”
She exhaled, shoulders easing in relief. “Thank God for that.”
The fire crackled. Someone laughed on the other side of camp. Isla’s father barked an order about keeping the wagons covered in case of rain.
Evan cleared his throat. “Are ye, ah... well, lass?”
“Yes. Fine.” She hesitated. “You?”
He nodded once and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of something to say. He couldn’t shake the memory of how she’d clung to him earlier, leaning into him as she’d recovered from her efforts with Isla. Nor could he forget how good it had felt.
“That knife I gave ye,” he said finally. “Would ye like me to teach ye how to use it?”
Her brows lifted. “I’d forgotten about that. Yes. Yes I would.”
“Right. Come on then.”
He led her a little further from the fire, to a patch of flat ground where no one would walk into a misjudged swing. He instructed her to draw the small knife he’d given her and showed her the proper grip. “Hold it like this.”
She held it gingerly at first, like a snake that might bite her, then adjusted her grip until it matched his demonstration. Her hands were smaller than his—delicate and yet with an understated strength.
“Feet apart,” he said, nudging her boot with his toe. “Wider. Aye, like that. Ye need balance more than anything.”
“Not falling over is a priority,” she muttered. “Got it.”
He showed her how to brace her weight, how to angle her shoulders, how to keep her wrist straight so the blade wouldn’t twist. She concentrated fiercely, tongue caught in the corner of her mouth. It was ridiculous how attractive he found that.
“Now,” he said, stepping behind her to adjust her posture, “if someone comes at ye—”
He rested a hand lightly on her waist to shift her stance, and she went completely still. Not tense. Not frightened. Just... aware. He cleared his throat and stepped back quickly.
“Right. Next movement.”
She practiced stepping, pivoting, turning her body instead of flailing her arm. She was awkward at first, but determined.
“Not bad,” he said when she managed a smooth sidestep.
“Thanks. You’re a patient teacher.”
“Ye sound surprised.”
“That’s because I am surprised. You’ve not shouted at me even once.”
“That’s because ye are a good student. Ye listen.”
She gave him a look. “Really? My fiancé said I never listened. Ha! That’s rich. He was the one who never listened.” She fell silent abruptly, as though she’d said more than she meant to.
Evan paused. “Ye miss him?” he asked carefully. Why did the mention of her former betrothed put his hackles up so much?
“No.” Her answer was sharp, immediate. “Not even remotely.”
He studied her face in the dimness but her expression was carefully blank. It was clear from her tone it was a topic he should drop.
“What will ye do when ye reach Edinburgh?” he asked instead.
She laughed lightly. “Oh, that’s an easy one. I’ll draw myself a hot bath and soak for around a fortnight. Oh, and maybe pay a visit to Princes Street Gardens—that’s where all this began, after all.”
“Where?”
Ruby cocked her head at him. “Princes Street Gardens. You can’t miss it. Separates Old Town and New Town.”
He frowned at her. “I’ve never heard of those gardens—or Old Town or New Town for that matter.”
“What?” she asked incredulously. “But I thought you knew Edinburgh!”
“I do,” he said, before he could think better of it. “I grew up there.”
She blinked in surprise. “You did? So you’re going home then?”
Home. The word struck him harder than he expected.
“Hardly,” he replied, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. “It hasnae been my home for a long time.”
Ruby lowered the knife. “But if you grew up there don’t you have family in the city you would like to see?”
He cursed inwardly. Damn it. He hadn’t meant to give her that thread to tug on.
“Aye, I have family in the city,” he admitted. “But none that I wish to see.”
She met his gaze and her eyes were soft with understanding. “I see. I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “Dinna be. It’s in the past. I didnae fit. Not with them. Not with the life they wanted for me.”
There he went again—revealing more of himself than he wanted to. He let out a slow breath and met her eyes. The fire crackled nearby. The night wind tugged at his hair. And in that moment, the world felt strangely small—just the two of them and the darkness all around.
He shook himself and raised his knife. “Again,” he said nodding at her stance.
She rolled her eyes—but lifted the blade—and they set to sparring.