She'd always loved riding, and she bore the hint of a smile on her face. Her breathing was up, and her bodice strained with it. The sight silenced him.
“Cormac?”
Marjorie was waiting for his response, and the only words that surged to mind were how lovely she looked with the wind in her hair. He shook himself. It was too dangerous to entertain such notions. “Name?” he said, coming back to himself.
“Aye, Gregor's horse. What's his name?”
He looked down, contemplating the animal's coat, dark russet with sweat. He shrugged. “I don't ken its name. ”
“You didn't ask the horse's name?” She nudged her mount closer to his. Her skirts rustled against Cormac's calf, and he stifled a shiver.
Fishing. Hunting. Boat mending.
“He's a braw one,” Marjorie said, leaning toward the animal. Her bodice tugged lower, revealing the gentle swells of her breasts.
Boat mending. Hoof trimming. Stall mucking.
She murmured to the beast in a low, sultry voice, “Aren't you just a big, braw boy?”
“Why?” Cormac asked abruptly, his voice barking out like a muted shout. “Why would I need its name? It's not as though he'll come if I call. ”
“But you'll be riding him all day. Don't you want to know?”
Cormac was completely off his guard, and so his response was something his younger self might have said. “He and I, we weren't formally introduced, Ree. ”
Suddenly silent, Marjorie let her horse fall behind. Cormac grew curious after a moment, and twisted in the saddle to study her. A puzzled look wrinkled her brow.
“What is it?” he asked, concerned. “Are you not comfortable?”
Her puzzled look intensified. “No… I… why do you ask?” Her features hardened. “I'm perfectly comfortable. Don't forget, Cormac. I have made this journey before, and I am perfectly capable of making it again. ”
“Och, that's not what I was saying at all. ” What had he unwittingly stepped into? “That'll teach a man,” he added under his breath.
Now she just looked hurt. He rued his words.
“That's not what I'd meant,” he said, trying again. “You simply… you've got a look about you. I thought you might be uncomfortable, is all. ”
“Oh. ” She thought on it for a moment, then gave a brisk shake to her head. “I'm perfectly comfortable. It's simply… you foxed me some, with your jesting. ” She gave him an uneasy smile.
“Aye, I've not jested much,” he admitted.
“Not jested? Cormac, you barely speak. ”
“Aye. ” He stopped himself from saying more. Marjorie's bright blue eyes were guileless and her face open as she watched him. She seemed to be waiting for something to happen. He needed to stem such ideas. Nothing would ever happen. How had he even found himself this far into the conversation? Nothing could come of such talk. Naught could ever be between them. “Aye, 'tis true,” he said again, and left it at that.
The brief exchange had charged their silence, and he regretted ever saying anything in the first place. Her horse caught and then passed his on the path.
“You're angry at me,” she said after a time.
“Oh aye?” The lass was such a mystery. He didn't recall her being so perplexing when they'd been children. He studied her back as she rode before him, watching as her muscles tensed, imagining the look that might be crossing her face. “Angry, you say?”
She gave a tight nod. “For making you come with me to Aberdeen. ” He thought on it. It wasn't anger but dread that he felt. He dreaded Aberdeen. Cormac didn't want to face the ruffians of Justice Port; they had naught but fights and death in their eyes, and he only recognized himself in their cold, flat gazes. He dreaded revisiting her uncle's town house. Most of all, he dreaded facing the memories of another missing boy, one who'd never been found.
But Marjorie would be dreading Aberdeen as much as he did. She'd come to him for help, and he'd been acting the boor.
He felt guilty, and it warmed his words. “It's not that I'm angry, Ree. ” He sighed. He'd never been able to stay angry with her anyhow. Like it or not, they were traveling to Aberdeen together, and he might as well make the best of it. Inhaling deeply, he announced, “We'll need a plan. ”
“A plan?” It was Marjorie's voice again, the voice he knew, straightforward and without hesitation.