Chapter Eleven #3
When they emerged, the sun had begun its descent, dipping close to the horizon. The fresh air served to clear his mind, and he resolved to lighten the air.
“Now where to?” he said with forced brightness.
“To Leslie MacKenzie’s,” she said, meeting his gaze for the first time since their most recent near kiss. “Follow back the way we came, then head east.”
After they tethered Rory’s mare to the back of the wagon, they cleared the slope and started out across the moors, the myriad colors of sunset behind them. Rory asked, “And when do we make the run south to the abbot?”
She drew a thoughtful breath. “I must think of an excuse for my absence. It will be at least another week if not a fortnight before I am ready. Turn down there,” she said, pointing to a croft in the distance.
“We could just keep going,” he said, drawing her gaze.
“Ye and I, right now. Let’s not stop.” His smile challenged her to accept, for he knew the sooner the mission was over the sooner they could part ways.
And although he hated to leave her, he knew with every moment that passed his feelings for her grew.
She seemed to consider his plan. “Mary and Rosie would make up some excuse for me. They would likely claim that I’ve locked myself away in my chamber for some reason or another.” But then she shook her head. “Tomorrow is Lammas. I couldn’t possibly leave.”
“Of course,” he said. “I had forgotten. Am I to guess there is to be a celebration?”
“To be sure,” she answered.
“With music?”
“To be sure.”
“And dancing?”
“To be sure.”
“Will ye dance with me?” By all that’s holy, he couldn’t resist. Mayhap he was a knave?
She hesitated.
He nudged her gently with his elbow. “Ye’re supposed to answer ‘to be sure’.”
She laughed just as the wagon bumped, knocking her against him, causing her to laugh all the harder. “We’ll see,” she said, catching her breath. Then she pointed to a wood and thatch outbuilding some distance away from a cottage. “Bring the wagon right into that storehouse.”
“What sort of man is Leslie MacKenzie?” Rory asked. Hopping down, he unhitched and untethered the horses.
“Trust me,” she said. “He won’t mind if we leave our wagon here.”
Brows drawn, Rory cautioned her. “What if he runs off with the wagon? It holds a small fortune. ‘Tis enough to tempt any man.”
A slight smile curved Alex’s lips before she took his hand and pulled him outside toward the cottage just as an old man with a stooped back came limping outside.
“Stay silent. Don’t let him know ye’re here,” Alex whispered to Rory before she jogged over to meet the man. “Good eventide, Leslie.”
The old man turned up his weathered face, revealing large, milky white eyes. “Is that ye, my lady?”
Alex wrapped her arms around the man’s frail shoulders, giving him a tight squeeze. “Aye, ‘tis me.”
“Bless me, but it’s been an age.”
“I was away for a month,” she explained. “And then my da died.”
“I wasn’t accusing ye, lass, just counting my blessings,” Leslie said, his unseeing eyes pointing heavenward. “Will ye come in for a spell? I’ve some hot pottage.”
“Forgive me, but I cannot,” she said. “I am needed at Luthmore, but I brought ye something.” She reached out and pressed a small, fist-sized bundle into his palm.
“Ah,” Leslie said, smiling. “Ye brought me some honeycomb.”
“Indeed, I did,” she said, surprised that he had guessed correctly.
He brought the parcel to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Ye’ve paid me a short but sweet visit to be sure.”
Alex pressed a kiss to the man’s cheek then turned him about. “Go back inside. Darkness is upon us.”
“Day or night, makes no difference to me,” the man said, chuckling. “Come back and visit me soon, won’t ye? And then ye can introduce me to the man ye’re trying to hide.”
Alex froze. She should have known Leslie would have sensed Rory’s presence, even though he hadn’t made a sound.
Leslie waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t go confessing the truth to me now. I’ll meet him at yer wedding.”
“But—” Alex started to deny that Rory would ever be her husband, but Leslie had turned and held up his hand to stop her.
“Lassie, I may be blind, but that just means I can see what others can’t. There’s a man standing over there,” he said, pointing to the exact spot where Rory stood. “And his heart pounds for ye, and yers pounds for him. Just like mine pounds for this honeycomb.”
Alex watched while he shuffled away chuckling. “Aye, lass,” he called back. “Love takes many forms.”
She turned to face Rory whose eyes were wide with surprise. “We really need to smother whatever this is between us,” she said.
Rory slowly nodded his head as he continued to watch Leslie’s departure. “Apparently so.”
She turned on her heel and hastened toward her horse. A moment later, Rory was beside her, his fingers laced to help her astride.
“Nay,” she said, pointing him away. “Ye just stay over there, Rory MacVie!”
She hiked up her tunic and hauled herself into place. Then without waiting for Rory, she kicked her horse hard in the flanks and raced off across the violet moors, hoping to outrun her own desire.