Chapter 16

16

T arbuck and Rab decided to stay with the cart, fearing that the goods and the horses might be stolen. They also wanted to be on hand at the tavern in case any guards came by. While there were no rooms free, Tarbuck and Rab were offered the stable. They had slept rough before, so had no qualms about taking up such an offer. The other villagers were hospitable, offering their rooms. There was one buxom lady called Elaine who had taken a shine to Michael. Her eyes gleamed and she practically dragged him away. He was open-mouthed like a fish, but was so stunned he couldn't utter a single word of protest.

"I think he's in for a memorable night," Tarbuck chuckled as the large, voluptuous woman hauled Michael away. The poor man looked intimidated, but that feeling may not have lasted for the entire night. Liam offered her and Rory a room in his house, which they gladly accepted. He only had a small house, and he apologized that he could only offer a single room. Elvira told him that any help was appreciated, and they would make do. Rory immediately undid his cloak and arranged it on the hard floor, using it as a makeshift blanket. While Elvira appreciated the chivalry of the moment, it felt wrong that he should suffer such hardship.

"Rory, at least come on the bed until we are ready tae sleep. Ye deserve more than the floor."

"Believe me, I hae slept in worse places than this," he chuckled.

"But those days are over," she patted the bed and shifted over. The bed creaked as his weight settled upon it. It felt as though she was in the water and the tide rolled underneath her. It was almost powerful enough to roll her body towards him.

"Aye, I suppose they are. Ye know, sometimes I still cannae believe that I hae a forge all to my own. When I think back tae the abandoned cabin that Anne and I used tae live in, oh, the wind blew through at night and the rain always found a way in. I never thought there would be any escape."

"I'm glad that things are better now."

"Oh aye, all thanks tae Anne. She never stopped trying tae get us a better life."

"She sounds wonderful. I'd like tae meet her. Where is she now?"

"She lives on a farm with her husband, Finlay. It was actually a funny story. They were both trying tae trick each other. She thought he was the son of a wealthy Laird, and he believed she was the niece of an important merchant. In the end, they dinnae hae much more than each other, but that was enough."

"It often is. My parents dinnae hae much more than that. They always taught us tae rejoice in family because these are the things that last forever, longer than gold or jewels or anything else."

"What happened tae them?"

Elvira sighed and dipped her head. She tapped her fingers on the blanket. "Ma died nae long after childbirth. The strain was tae much for her. And Da… well, he fell foul of McKovac's hatred. Ye know, we only ever tried tae help people. Da was a farmer, tilling the land. Ma helped people by reading their palms. They never asked for trouble. It found them, though. Da found people attacking some Romani woman, sae he went tae defend her, and he got a sword through his stomach. It feels like we are only one moment away from death," she shook her head.

"I'm sorry. It's nae right. But yer parents sound like good people. I take it ye inherited these gifts from ye Ma? Palm reading, I mean."

Elvira nodded and smiled. "I inherited more than that. People say that I am the spitting image of her. But aye, when I was old enough, I could sense that people needed solace and comfort. I try to help people where I can. Everyone needs a wee bit of advice now and then, and sometimes just speaking tae someone can help."

"Or have something hammered intae yer head," Rory said with an amused smile. Elvira chuckled and relaxed in his warm presence.

"Aye, or that. Sometimes it's important tae tell people what they need tae hear, nae what they want."

Rory pressed his lips together and adjusted his position, holding his hand out in front of him, his palm facing upwards. "I wonder if my future has changed since ye read it last. Am I still destined for cowardice?" he asked with a teasing smile.

"I'm nae sure there's a good destiny awaiting any of us, at least nae while we're in this place. I hate being back here. It feels like something bad could happen at any moment," she shuddered as she spoke.

Rory inched towards her and lowered his voice. "Naething bad is gaeing tae happen while I'm here" he said, and she believed him with all her heart. "Ye should try tae stop thinking about such things. Maybe reading my palm will distract ye."

"Ye really want me tae read ye palm?"

Rory shrugged. "Why nae?" he said.

Elvira stared at his palm and shifted her position. She rested one hand underneath his, holding it steady, her fingertips reaching his wrist. Once again, warmth thrummed through her body, seeping from his body to hers, and it only seemed to be getting more intense with every moment that passed. She curled her index finger from her other hand and traced the lines of his palm, feeling the callouses, following the long furrows that were etched into his flesh. This time he did not snatch his hand away, and she felt a tingling sensation running up her arm. These were the hands of a man, not a mere boy. These were the hands of a man who had rushed into the darkness to save her, who now rushed into battle. These were the hands that had curled in anger when he thought she was in danger. This was the man who had gotten himself wounded when trying to protect her.

This…this was the kind of man her mother had always spoken about.

There was a slight gasp, a hitch in her breath when she realized this. That moment all those years ago when Maria had given her advice…advice that Elvira had dismissed over the years, thinking it nothing more than a lesson given from a mother to a daughter. Perhaps there was more to it, though. Perhaps Maria really could glimpse the future, and it wasn't Ian she spoke of, as Elvira had once believed, but this sweet, vulnerable, stubborn man called Rory.

"Is something wrong? What dae ye see?" Rory asked, his brow furrowed with concern as she drew back. He interpreted her hesitation as shock upon seeing something that should not have been seen. Elvira dipped her head, not wishing for him to see the color that ran to her cheeks. Usually, she was so poised and always knew what to say to the people who came to her for solace, yet now she was lost for words. Rory was not like the others. When she read his palm, she was not reading it solely for him, but also for herself. There was a feeling that their futures were entwined, at least she certainly hoped they would be. But… did he feel the same? While he had changed his mind about helping people in need, he still valued his isolation. He had lived in his forge alone for a long time and had gotten used to spending life by himself. He was devoted to his craft, and if he took up with a Romani would his business suffer? Would people refuse to buy from him because they thought he had been ensorcelled by a witch?

He might not have seen her as a woman at all, but rather as a broken, wretched thing that needed protecting. He might have just pitied her, the way one would pity a bird with a wounded wing that flopped around outside a door, one that you nursed back to health until it could soar again. Would Rory have charged into danger for anyone, or had he only done it because she was special?

When she had his palm in her hand it was easy to believe the former, but the risk was so great. Elvira had always been guarded with her heart. If she confessed to her feelings and Rory did not share them then it would place them in great danger. They would be confused and awkward, but now was the time to be focused. They could not allow themselves to have any distractions.

For all of her insight, Elvira was at a loss. All she knew was that when she looked into his eyes she felt something swell within her heart. She wished it was easy for her to say what was on her mind, but for once, she was a coward, and she was ashamed.

"Naething is wrong," she said quickly. "I see great riches in ye future, great success. I daresay ye will become the most renowned blacksmith in all the Highlands. People will travel from miles around tae purchase yer wares, and Lairds will make great requests of ye," Elvira said. Rory smiled, seemingly satisfied with what she said, although she chastised herself. She had always lived by a principle of honesty, yet now, when her own heart was on the line, she found herself retreating. Her grip lingered on his warm hand, reluctant to let it go. If only he would make his feelings plain, if only he would make some kind of gesture so that she could be certain of how he felt, then things would be easier.

"Perhaps I should try reading yer palm," Rory said, his voice a rolling burr, the soft light of the candle swallowing them. Elvira watched as Rory gently turned her hand upside down, this time placing his fingers upon her palm. Unlike her, his movements were not delicate. They were clumsy, awkward, yet they still made her tingle. She watched as he dragged his finger around her palm, not following the lines at all. There was no thought in her mind that he was mocking her, however. In fact, it was rather sweet.

"I think that after this, all yer troubles will be behind ye. Ye and yer family will find peace, and can settle wherever ye like. I don't think people will shun ye any longer. Ye can dae anything ye want in this world, Elvira, and yer siblings will never hae tae worry about being in danger like ye are now," Rory said. She knew that he wasn't using any special insight as he had no idea how to read the lines of a palm, but she still appreciated the words. There was an earnest gleam in his eyes. She knew that he wasn't lying to her or trying to placate her. He wasn't being patronizing. He wasn't saying things he thought she wanted to hear. No, he was telling her what he believed, and what he wanted for her. He saw a bright future where the Romani could be treated as any other Highlanders rather than intruders, and she knew that when he looked at her, he did not see someone who needed to be exiled from the land. He just saw a woman.

He just saw her.

But, did the future he pictured show the two of them together? If it did, he made no mention of it, and these feelings became words that clotted under her tongue, refusing to break through the barrier of her lips. It was getting late, and her eyelids were getting heavy. He yawned, which made her yawn as well. If they stayed up all night talking, then they would be no use the following day, and they needed all their wits about them if they were to survive this incursion into McKovac territory. Elvira suggested they sleep. Rory agreed, turning away to blow out the candle. They were plunged into darkness and Rory slipped off the bed, too much of a gentleman to remain so close to a woman when they were unmarried.

Elvira felt his hand pulling away from hers. Out of instinct she grabbed it, squeezing it tight. He squeezed back. Their palms pressed together. Their fingers entwined. For a moment a thought flashed through her mind, an image of their bodies twirling around each other like their fingers were doing now, the expanse of their flesh melting into each other just as their palms were locked. It was only a fleeting moment, but it brought an intense heat rushing through her body, leaving her utterly breathless.

As their fingers parted, she rolled onto her back and wondered if this had been a glimpse of the future, or if it was just something that she desperately wanted to happen.

Perhaps it was both.

Morning arrived. Rory awoke to find the pale light pouring in through the window. He tilted his neck from side to side, stretching out the cricks and knots that had formed after sleeping on the floor. It took him back to years before, where any surface was a bed for him and Anne. He pushed himself to his feet and looked at Elvira, who lay in the bed. Dark strands of curled hair spilled across her face. Her chest rose and fell. Her top had fallen askew in the night from her tossing and turning, leaving the hollow of her throat exposed. Rory's throat went tight at the sight of her flawless skin. He raised his palm, remembering how it felt to have a part of her so close to him. This time he had not drawn back out of fear. The shock of having someone touch him so readily had worn away, and he had begun to enjoy it.

He tried to not interpret anything more from it. After all, this was Elvira's way. She was at ease with other people and made her livelihood from holding people's hands. It didn't make him more special than anyone else, no matter how he might wish for things to be different. She likely felt indebted to him for chasing after her and saving her life. It was a fraught time for her, and romance was probably the last thing on her mind. Still, he found himself wishing that he had said something the previous night. The moment had almost seemed too perfect, her soft voice rolling past his ears, the light of the candle flickering beside them, her round eyes so open and profound, liquid in their loveliness.

Elvira stirred, and Rory was aware that if she awoke to find him looming over her, staring at her, it might come across as creepy. He cleared his throat and moved to the window, pretending that he had just roused this moment rather than having stood there for a while.

"Morning," Elvira said, the word stretching out as she twisted her body. Rory glanced at her, heat bristling all over his body as he saw the slender outline of her figure under the blanket. It was alluring, captivating, but he pushed these feelings deep down inside, not wishing to make things more complicated than they already were.

Rory waited for her to rouse herself, and then they headed downstairs, reuniting with the others at the tavern.

There was a different atmosphere in the tavern in the morning. The smell of bacon and bread filled the air. Rory nodded towards his companions. Once they were all gathered, the tavern owner came by, speaking in a low voice.

"Samuel replied tae the message," he said, handing them a plate of food, beneath which was a letter. Tarbuck pulled the letter out and scanned it quickly, huffing and shaking his head after reading it. He handed it to Rory.

"What does it say?" Elvira asked.

A shadow fell over Rory's face. "It says that he's willing tae meet, but only with ye. He says he'll meet ye in the woods close tae yer farm sae that ye can discuss the best way tae approach Hamish inside the keep."

Elvira nodded. "He must think it's tae dangerous for us all tae gae traipsing around the territory. It's easier for one person tae sneak through, and I know these lands better than any of ye. The woods he speaks of are notorious for keeping things hidden."

Rory was surprised that Elvira accepted this so readily without any hesitation.

"Dae ye nae think it could be a trap? I mean, asking ye tae gae and meet him alone when he knows there are people hunting ye…" Rory shook his head. The others nodded in agreement. Elvira stared at him with the same fire in her eyes she possessed at the meeting in Torrin's tavern. Everyone had disputed her words then apart from Rory.

"I know Samuel. He hae always been sympathetic tae our cause. My gran healed his sister, and he hae always felt indebted tae us. There is nae chance this could be a trap. He is against the Laird as much as we are. I trust him with my life, and we cannae afford tae risk this opportunity. If he thinks it is tae dangerous for us tae travel taegether then I must make this journey alone. He is a guard, perhaps he hae heard reports of a strange merchant trundling through the territory. They might capture us as soon as they see us."

"Which is exactly what will happen tae ye if they find ye, and we will hae nae idea what hae happened! Ye may trust this man, but I dinnae like the situation. Even if we can trust Samuel, there is a great distance for ye tae travel before ye get tae him. Anything could happen tae ye."

"I know these woods," Elvira said through gritted teeth, but Rory was not going to be dissuaded.

"And ye know that there are guards sneaking about in every shadow. Let me come with ye. I will follow from a safe distance. Surely, Samuel will nae begrudge ye from haeing someone tae guard yer back? We will leave the wagon here."

Rory spoke sense. Elvira could not dispute the logic of his words, so she eventually nodded. The others all agreed with Rory, so it was settled. Rory and Elvira would leave by themselves and meet with Samuel. He would tell them how to contact Hamish, and then they could move forward with their plan. Rory pressed his lips together in a thin line. Perhaps it was just because they were in enemy territory, but he had a feeling that something was going to go wrong.