Gillian watched the priest ride away, but Brodick tugged on her hair to get her attention. He brushed her curls over her shoulder. 'I'll treat you well,' he fervently promised.
'I shall make certain that you do,' she responded. 'Shall we go now?'
Brodick motioned to Dylan to take the lead, then turned to speak to Ramsey. Gillian saw the commander ride ahead to the cliffs. Instantly horrified, she goaded her mount in the opposite direction. One second she was beside Brodick and the next she was halfway down the southern slope.
'Where the hell is she going?' he asked Ramsey as he goaded his stallion into a gallop. He caught up with her, grabbed her reins, and tried to turn her around. She resisted by pushing his hand away and urging her horse forward again.
'You're going the wrong way.'
'Is the right way over that cliff?' she asked, frantic.
'Now, Gillian, it isn't…'
'I won't do it.'
'If you'll only let me explain…' he patiently began again.
He swore he had never seen anyone, man or woman, move as quickly as Gillian did then. Since she couldn't get him to let go of the reins, she slipped off her horse and was walking at a fast pace away from him before he could summon a good argument to persuade her to take the shortcut.
He caught up with her again. 'What do you think you're doing?'
'What does it look like I'm doing? I'm walking. I feel the need to stretch my legs.'
'Give me your hand.'
'No.'
'It isn't a cliff,' he began.
'I'm taking the long way around.'
'All right,' he agreed.
She came to a quick stop. 'Do you mean it? You won't force me?'
'Of course I won't force you. We'll take the long way around.'
He let out a shrill whistle and raised his hand. Dylan immediately turned back.
She knew she must be embarrassing Brodick because she couldn't go down a stupid hill. All of the soldiers were watching her, but fortunately they stayed where they were and therefore couldn't hear what she was saying.
'I don't wish to disgrace you in front of your good friend and your soldiers, but I swear that if you make me go down that cliff, I'll do just that.'
'As terrified as you are, your concern is in the possibility of disgracing me? Ah, Gillian, you could never disgrace me. We'll take the long way around.'
Anxiety blended with relief. 'How much longer will it take us?'
'It depends on how fast we ride.'
'How long?' she persisted.
'A full day,' he admitted as he once again put his hand down to her.
'That long? Even if we hurry?'
'That long,' he replied. 'Give me your hand.'
'I can ride my horse.'
'I would rather you ride with me.'
She backed away. 'Brodick?'
'Yes, lass?'
'I have to go down that cliff, don't I?'
'You don't have to do anything you don't want to do.'
She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and then clasped hold of his hand. Instead of swinging her up behind him, he changed his mind and lifted her onto his lap.
He could feel her shaking and sought only to comfort her. Wrapping his arms around her, he hugged her tight. 'This worry of yours…'
'It's most unreasonable, isn't it?'
'Do you know what has caused this fear? Did something happen that has made you so cautious?'
'Don't you mean cowardly?'
Clasping her chin in his hand, he forced her to look up at him. 'Don't ever let me hear you say that about yourself again. You are not a coward. Do you understand?'
'Yes,' she agreed.
'Say it,' he commanded.
'I'm not a coward. You can stop squeezing me now,' she suggested.
She waited until he had relaxed his hold, then said, 'I've made up my mind. We'll go down the cliff. We should go last, though,' she hastened to add, hoping she'd find a little courage while they waited their turn.
'You're certain?'
'Yes,' she insisted, though her voice was so weak she wasn't sure he heard her. 'And I'll ride my own horse,' she added in a much stronger voice. 'I'll not have your men think I'm a weakling.'
'They could never think such a thing,' he said as he prodded his horse back up the hill.
He didn't stop at the crest, nor did he slow his stallion's pace as he started down the narrow, winding path that led to Ramsey's holding. She buried her face in his plaid, wrapped her arms around his waist and demanded that he wait until everyone else had gone first.
He told her no.
There was still time to stop before they reached the steepest drop in the path, and she was going to make certain he did just that. She needed time to gather her courage. Why couldn't the mule-headed man understand that?
'I want to be last.'
'I like to be first.'
'We're going to wait,' she demanded shrilly. Panic was making her throat close, and all she could think about was falling down into an endless dark hole and never, ever stopping. The need to scream was overtaking her control, and, God help her, she was either going to throw up or faint at any second.
'Brodick… I can't…'
'Tell me about all those impure thoughts you've been having about me.'
'What?'
He patiently repeated the question. His stallion stumbled, rocks trickled down the sheer rock into the mouth of the ravine below, making quite a clatter, but Brodick merely shifted his position in the saddle to help the horse regain his footing, and continued on.
Gillian, hearing the noise, was turning to look down when Brodick asked, 'In these impure thoughts, did we have our clothes on?'
Her blush warmed her face. 'Our clothes?' she whispered.
'In your fantasies about me…'
'They weren't fantasies.'
'Sure they were,' he countered cheerfully. 'You told Laggan you were having impure daydreams.'
'Impure thoughts,' she cried out.
'And you also said these… thoughts… were about me. Is that not so?'
'Oh, do be quiet.'
He laughed. 'So did we?' he asked again.
Her shoulders sagged. 'Did we what?'
'Have our clothes on?'
Thoroughly rattled, she shouted, 'Of course we had our clothes on.'
'Then they couldn't have been very interesting impure thoughts.'
'Will you stop talking about this?'
'Why?'
'It isn't proper, that's why.'
