The Highlander's Promise (Highland Rogues #4) - Mary Wine Page 0,1
so hard, the white puffs were going nearly sideways. But it hit the ground at some point and stuck.
Chattan land was still so far away.
And over rough land.
Her belly tried to constrict, but she ordered herself not to give in to fear. She’d made her choice. Now, Duncan land was further away than Chattan land. She would simply have to push on.
Terin stared at the white fluffs of snow, doing her best to scrounge up her resolve. It actually didn’t take too much effort. Yes, her knees were cold, well freezing, but she didn’t have to worry that the next meal she sat down to consume would be laced with poison.
Lord, she’d eaten so many hard-boiled eggs in the last four years because she could gather them herself and boil them in the small kettle in her chamber.
You’re alive…
She was, and all the members of her husband’s family who had wished her an early death were victims of their own schemes now.
Her father would expect her to come home.
Terin wrestled with the anger the thought of her home brought her. Logically, she understood that being the laird’s daughter meant her marriage would be arranged. Her education had been carefully directed so she would be ready to manage a large household. She had not expected love, of course, but respect shouldn’t have been too much to hope for.
Her husband had been a monster.
Even the blowing snow wasn’t cool enough to combat her temper.
Well, good then, because ye have a long walk ahead of ye still…yer temper can keep ye warm.
Her belly rumbled. She couldn’t indulge in a horse because it would attract attention to her. One lone youth in ill-fitting clothing would be cause for notice. So she’d walked or bartered for a spot on a wagon as she could.
Now though, all the wagons were heading for shelter. Their drivers hurrying to secure stable space for their horses before there wasn’t any more to be had.
She needed to hurry, too.
Terin squared her shoulders and headed across the road toward a public house. It was less than a decent place. As she ducked beneath the doorway, she heard the squeal of several women. Inside the dim interior, there were a collection of mismatched tables. Their tops were scarred and stained, a few of them charred from fire.
“Here now.” A man pointed at her. “It’s a penny to come in.”
Of course it was. Shelter wasn’t free. Terin dug out a coin and went to pay the owner. She pointed at the stairs.
“As if ye’d have enough to rent a room,” the owner laughed at her while stuffing the penny into his doublet. “Ye’ll take that bench in the corner and be grateful.”
Terin ducked her chin. She’d not moved the buttons on the collar of the shirt, instead leaving it too wide for her neck because she might duck her chin into it and hide how smooth her skin was. Besides the sin of dressing like a man, a lone female might run into men who had no morals.
It was the very first time she’d ever been alone.
In a way, she discovered the experience to be something interesting. As she went to the bench and sat down, she was able to be overlooked by everyone in the place. It wouldn’t last too long, though, for the owner would be looking to sell her food and drink and perhaps the serving women as they went around the room so that all the men could get a look.
Her bench was the furthest from the fire.
Terin suddenly realized she was sitting straight up. Just as she’d been taught, but she needed to blend in. She slouched, glancing around the room to see how the other men sat. After a moment, she put her elbows on the table and even rested the side of her face in one of her hands.
*
Jasper Chattan wasn’t one to stop because of a bit of snow.
All right, it was a fair bit of snow.
He knew how many days he had yet to ride before he’d make it home, and the clouds were getting lower and lower, pressing down on them so that he couldn’t see more than ten paces in front of him.
Aye, maybe he might have pressed on, but he looked back to where his sister was clinging to the back of a horse. Kianna was barely sixteen. She was half his size, but she’d not muttered a word of protest over the conditions.