Chapter 14
BEFORE THE DAGGER FALLS
From the moment they set out together, Oliver regretted giving Sorcha her own horse.
Of course, he knew that the journey would be easier, more comfortable for everyone involved if they rode separately.
But the space between them made his hands itch.
More than once he had to tell himself not to reach for her, not to pull her into the saddle with him.
It was an unusual thing to be so desperate for the company of someone he was already with.
Contenting himself to watch her from a reasonable distance instead, Oliver admired her skills.
Even on an unfamiliar mount, she handled the rugged terrain of the borderlands with ease.
They were deep in the woods, having decided to stay off the main roads, if only to avoid running into any of Dudley’s men.
But the thick trees and the uneven ground didn’t deter Sorcha at all.
She sat with her back tall, head turning every so often as she watched their surroundings.
He should have been doing the same, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Every so often, sunlight would stream in through the trees, catching on her hair.
The auburn strands would transform into rich copper that glinted like gold.
She had braided it back and out of her face, but the wind had freed bits and pieces of her hair as they rode.
He longed to run his fingers through it, to feel the softness against his skin.
“Are ye listening to me?”
Sorcha’s voice cut through his hazy thoughts, bringing him back to the present. He felt his cheeks flush, embarrassed that she caught him staring, daydreaming about her. Clearing his throat in an attempt to appear self-contained, Oliver blinked with a small smile.
“I am afraid that the wind stole your words. What did you say?”
She raised an eyebrow at him, doubting the sincerity of his words, but she repeated herself anyway.
“I said there is a stream nae too far from here. We should stop and water the horses there. Some time to eat. After that, we can follow the water the rest of the way to the Kincaid lands. It will be an easy enough path to follow. I dinnae want to stop more than necessary.”
“How is it that you have come to know these woods so well? When I suggested that we set off for the Kincaid lands, I must admit, I did not imagine you would be the one leading us. I, however, would have gotten us lost the moment we left my borders, so I must say I am grateful for your presence.”
Grateful. Distracted. Consumed. All things he felt whenever she was around.
“I told ye,” she answered, completely unaware of the state he was in. “I spent several weeks in these woods. I traveled to every village, every wee town between Kincaid Castle and Dudley’s estates.”
“For Taryn,” he finished for her, recalling the details.
“Aye. For Taryn.”
“Tell me,” Oliver prompted, riding up beside her to better study her face. “Do you often dash off into the woods in search of your friends? Is it a habit of yours to go roaring into grand adventures without so much as a plan or a pack of food with you?”
“I had food,” she argued. “I simply had to leave my things with my horse the night Dudley captured me. There is nay telling where the beast got off to.”
He smirked at her prickliness. Only a few hours ago, she had been soft and malleable, pressed against him in complete surrender to their kiss. She had been every bit a woman and no signs of the trained warrior she now looked to be. Oliver couldn’t decide which version of her he liked the most.
“You did not answer my question,” he pressed. “Is this merely a way of life for you? Roaming from one place to another, no concern of danger. Are you so at ease with your sword and your bow and your horse that you fear nothing and no one?”
Though he said it lightly, it was something he was desperate to know. He wanted to know everything about this enigmatic woman.
She merely shrugged.
“Life was nae always like this,” Sorcha admitted hesitantly.
“Aye. You said your father was a wealthy merchant. Did you grow up in luxury?”
“If ye mean, did I have a dozen bonny dresses and eat rich foods every night, then aye. But that was only because my parents would host elaborate parties and dinners nearly every night. They needed to impress the good and great if they were to make more sales. My siblings and I were trussed up as evidence of my parents’ success. ”
“What was it like when you first left?”
Oliver had no desire to hear the details of her engagement again. He loathed the thought of another man having any claim on such a marvelous creature such as Sorcha.
“To be honest, I dinnae ken how I survived,” she laughed.
“I was so helpless. For the first time in my life, I was hungry. I did nae ken how to start a fire or hunt for food. The money from the jewels I sold ran out quickly. I did nae think to stretch them far, so I spent the majority of them on rooms in inns and hot meals. It was pure luck that I didnae get my hand cut off for all the thieving I did. I am only thankful I had the sense to buy a weapon before I was well and truly out of money.”
When Oliver stayed silent for too long, Sorcha shot him a questioning look.
“What are ye thinking?”
“Oh,” he mused. “Just trying to picture it—you as a helpless lass, drifting from one place to the next. It is hard to imagine when I look at you now, and you are so capable, so sure of yourself. I cannot imagine a time when you were anything but what you are now.”
She let out a long sigh, one that spoke of days gone by that she had no wish to repeat but still longed for.
“I spent the entire first half of my life nae kenning who I truly was. For all their money, all the gowns and piano lessons and hours spent with a watercolor brush in my hand, my parents cared verra little about who any of us truly ever were.”
“Did all of your siblings feel the same way?”
“Och, nay. True to form, I was the only one to ever rebel against the way things were done. I think that was part of the reason my parents never kent what to do with me. Everyone else seemed content enough to live out the lives they had all set for us.”
“But you wanted more.” He paused, considering all the ways he had been content to let life play out in whatever way it might. “And did you find it?”
“I think I did,” she answered, a sheepish expression on her face.
“For starters, finding Aila and Taryn gave me a family that I felt I could truly belong to. I never had to pretend to be anything other than what I was with them. And the things I learned, I learned because I wanted to, or needed to in some cases.”
“Like your swordskill?”
She shook her head thoughtfully and shrugged at him, unapologetic in her answer.
“Nay. Aila had always managed to get by with her bow. And Taryn only uses a weapon when she is left with nay other choice, though she can outshoot all of us blindfolded. Nay, I learned how to wield a sword because I wanted to. Because I thought it would be fun. Aila and Taryn merely indulged me. Though, I will say, my interest in the sword has saved us all on more than one occasion.”
“It certainly saved me.”
The reminder of Dudley’s men attacking cast a rather gloomy shadow over their otherwise easy conversation.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had been able to talk to someone else with such ease, such openness between them.
It was refreshing as much as it was jarring to realize how alone he had become in the running of his estate.
“Aye, well,” Sorcha blushed, “I only did what ye would have done had the men nae attacked ye first.”
“I am in awe of you, Sorcha,” he told her candidly. “Your ability to stare danger in the face without flinching is… well, I do not have the word for it. You have more courage than any man I have ever known.”
She shrugged off the complement, leading her horse to the stream they had come upon, just as she had told him they would.
“As I said, I was nae always this way. Meeting Aila, seeing how she shaped her own life, how she did what she wanted, showed me I could do the same thing. So I did.”
“And now you have joined with the Kincaids, taken on a handful of children, and are facing down one of the most ruthless English lords I have ever had the displeasure of meeting, all while claiming it is nothing.”
He slid from his saddle, landing lightly on his feet before moving quickly to her side.
Without waiting for permission or an argument, he clasped Sorcha around the waist and lifted her from her seat.
Staying too close for it to be proper, he lowered her to the ground slowly, savoring the way she felt in his arms.
Neither of them had broached the subject of their shared kiss in the stables during their ride, but he was not going to pretend it hadn’t happened.
Not when it was one of the best things to have ever happened to him.
The pink tinge in her cheeks and on the tops of her ears, paired with her inability to meet his eyes as they stood together, his arms still wrapped around her, told him all he needed to know about her feelings.
“I never said it is nothing,” she argued quietly.
“I merely believe that everyone, nay matter yer background, yer family status, or how much money ye have in yer pocket, can rewrite their story. We dinnae have to be bound by the decisions others have made for us our entire lives. I was nae content to let my father and then my husband tell me how I was going to spend the rest of my life. So I left.”
He stepped back, letting her words drift over him as he tied the horses to a branch hanging lazily over the river.
“It has nae been easy. I have spent many a night cold and hungry. I have been afraid for my life. I have even wished for death in the lowest of times. But even with all the struggle and hardship I have faced, it has been because of the choices I have made.”