“We should’ve secured a cloak for you, back in the village.” Derek wrapped one of the saddle blankets around her shoulders, then wrapped his arm around her to share his body heat.

“We… were in a bit of a hurry,” she reminded him, doing what she could to fend off the shivers which raced through her.

The night air had become chilled, and she understood why; they were traveling up, into the mountains, where the air wouldn’t be as warm at night as it was down in the village.

“This is true. Och, lass, I’m not accustomed to this.”

She heard the uncertainty in his voice, and it touched her heart. She leaned into him, nestling her head against his shoulder.

He was very warm, as though he had a fire inside his chest. Sleepiness threatened to overcome her, but she fought it off in favor of comforting him.

“Not accustomed to what?” she whispered.

The rest of their party were arranged around the fire which had cooked their supper, and it was likely they were asleep, but she didn’t wish to take chances with being overheard.

There was something solemn and almost holy about this time with him—sitting in the dark, beneath the boughs of a fragrant pine tree, with nothing but the sky and stars above them. She wished for it to last forever, uninterrupted by any of those with whom they traveled.

“To caring for another. To keeping another’s concerns at the front of my mind. I should’ve secured a cloak for ye, and something more comfortable to sleep on.”

“How would we have traveled with anything close to a comfortable bed?” she whispered, sliding her hand out from the blanket to pat his reassuringly.

He caught her fingers and laced them with his.

“You’re right, I know. There’s no way around the discomfort of sleeping in the woods. This is no way for you to travel.”

“What makes me so special, that this is too much for me?” she asked. “I’m no better than anyone else, certainly no better than any of you. If you can spend your days riding and your nights sleeping out in the woods, so can I.”

He raised her hand to his lips, brushing them against the backs of her fingers.

A new kind of shiver raced through her, a much warmer and more welcome one than before. She watched, holding her breath, as he closed his eyes and touched his forehead to the place where his lips had just been.

“You are better than I, lass, better than any of the men here. Better than anyone I’ve ever known, than I’ve ever imagined anyone could be. You are everything pure and worthwhile in the world. Nothing is too good for you.”

Tears pricked behind her eyes, threatening to spill over.

“When we reach the manor house,” he murmured, opening his eyes again and looking down at her with almost heartbreaking tenderness, “I’ll see about selling the ships. I’ve decided. I’ll give Broc a share of the profit, and he’ll be free to start on his own with what I believe we could collect. That will leave me with more than enough to begin a life for us.”

A life for them.

Her heart swelled at the thought. Keeping his home, bearing his children. Making friends in the village, feeling as though she were part of something. No longer disconnected, the way she’d felt all her life.

“I would love nothing more than that,” she agreed, tucking herself even more firmly against his body.

She felt warm, finally, and comfortable in spite of the reality of the ground beneath her and the tree to her back.

All that mattered was the warm, inviting body beside hers. His arm tightened just a bit, pulling her closer, and his cheek rested against the top of her head. She was certain nothing could ever be more wonderful, and she regretted the fatigue which tugged at her. To sleep would mean to miss being aware of his nearness…

Her eyes slid shut nonetheless.

* * *

It was the anxious movement of the horses which woke her.

She wasn’t alone. When she looked around, foggy-headed and rubbing sleep from her eyes, she saw Hugh and his men crouching by the fire, muttering to each other before each of them went their separate ways.

“What’s happening?” she asked, turning to Derek.

He was wide awake, sharp, eyes darting in all directions. It seemed the sounds of the woods had quieted—the hooting of owls, the croaking of frogs down by the pond they’d settled near for the night. All was silent except for the anxious horses.

He turned to her, his arm like a band of iron around her shoulders, pressing his mouth to her ear.

“There’s something or someone nearby,” he whispered. “I want you to stay with me now. Do not leave my side. Understand?”

She turned her face toward his neck and felt the throbbing of his pulse under the skin. He was just as afraid as she was. “Yes.”

“If I tell you to do something, you do it quickly and without question.”

“I understand.”

He rose, pulling her with him, then stood in front of her while her back was pressed to the tree trunk.

She reached behind her, running her fingers over the rough bark, needing something to focus her attention on while she waited to find out just what had upset the horses so. She heard their soft whinnying, the way their hooves pawed at the dirt.

She had come to love her little mare during the course of the day and welcomed the rush of fierce fury at the thought of anyone harming her.

Minutes stretched past, agonizingly slow, the two of them waiting with all muscles tensed and alert.

Broc waited, too, crouched by the fire with what looked like a small knife in one hand. Ready to spring into action at the first sign of trouble.

That trouble was not to make itself known, at least, not just then.

Hugh announced himself in a low voice before stepping back through the last cluster of trees at the edge of their camp. “It appears as though the noise from the horses frightened them off,” he muttered.

“Who?” Margery whispered, her question lost against Derek’s back.

“Someone from the clans?” Derek asked. “Would they be this far away from home?”

“There’s no telling,” Hugh admitted as his men returned, one by one. “I wouldn’t put it past any of them. But it could be they were just passing through and were interested in our camp—whoever they were. If they’d wished us harm, they could’ve attacked.”

There was something in his voice which told Margery he was softening the blow—likely for her sake, at that. If she had been a man, he would’ve been honest about the danger they could all be in.

The sky was still full dark, the stars having shifted their position since the last time she’d looked up through the crossing branches. How much time had passed? She’d never learned to tell time using the passage of the stars.

“There’s no sense in attempting to start out before first light,” Derek decided. “We should sit up in shifts until then.”

“I’ll take the first watch,” Broc offered.

“Fine, and I’ll take second,” Hugh agreed, with Derek taking third.

Though something told Margery he wouldn’t be sleeping, regardless of whether or not he was supposed to be.

Hadn’t she always wanted adventure?