Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

“ I need tae rest.”

They had been riding for a long time, long enough for them to have already passed the first village on their way, but Abigail couldn’t keep going any longer, and she was certain the horse would be grateful for a break, too. With the way Hugo was pressed up against her for the whole ride, her body had gone entirely stiff, muscles cramping as she tried to keep herself as far away from him as possible.

All her efforts were in vain, of course. There was hardly any space on that saddle and no matter how much she tried to avoid touching him, Hugo was always there, plastered to her back. She knew there was nothing he could do either, and so she hadn’t berated him for it, but her body needed the break.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere and it will soon be dark,” Hugo pointed out, as if Abigail couldn’t see the very same, darkening sky that he did. “It would be wiser to keep riding until we find another village and spend the night there.”

“An’ risk bein’ seen?” Abigail asked. “We might encounter someone who kens who we are. It is best tae avoid villages an’ towns so close tae the castle.”

She expected Hugo to put up a fight and insist that it was too dangerous for them to camp in the middle of the forest, but instead, he only stayed silent and rode for a little while longer until they reached a small clearing. They were deep in the forest by then, the trees leaning into each other and creating a thick canopy of leaves over their heads, obscuring much of the dying light of the day. What little fell through the leaves consisted of dappled, small patches of sun reaching the ground.

It was colder there and Abigail wrapped her cloak a little tighter around her shoulders. At least she had come prepared, which was more than she could say about Hugo. He refused to wear a plaid, too used to his French fashions to even consider it an option, and so he had nothing with which to cover his torso in the cold.

He must have been chilly all the way there, ever since they had entered the deepest parts of the forest and the light had faded, forcing the temperature around them to drop. And yet, he had not complained once about it.

When he jumped off the horse, he helped Abigail off, too, and tied the reins around a nearby tree trunk. Abigail walked around slowly, stretching her arms and her legs to get rid of the numbness in her limbs.

“Stop!”

Abigail froze instantly, her eyes wide as she turned around to look at Hugo, who was rushing towards her at stunning speeds. As she turned on her heel, her boot caught on something and for a moment, she lost her balance, her body threatening to topple over before Hugo grabbed her and pushed her aside. Abigail stumbled forward but soon regained her footing, staying upright.

Hugo didn’t have the same luck.

The momentum of his movement pitched him forward and he suddenly disappeared from Abigail’s eyes, falling into what seemed like a deep ditch in the ground, which had been expertly covered with twigs and leaves to resemble the forest floor.

Abigail’s heart lurched in her chest as Hugo tumbled down. She rushed to the edge of the trap and looked down at him, relief washing like a wave over her when she saw him stand and brush the dirt off his clothes with nothing hurt but his ego.

Hugo grumbled to himself in unintelligible French as he brushed the dirt that clung onto him, his hands only managing to dislodge that much of it. They would not be clean again for a while, Abigail knew, and she was certain Hugo would not stop complaining about it until he had something else to wear.

“Why did ye dae this?” Abigail asked, placing her hands on her hips. “How will I pull ye out now?”

“What did you want me to do?” Hugo asked, incensed. “Would you rather I let you fall in? What if there was something at the bottom? Spikes or or snakes or?—”

“Snakes?” Abigail asked with an inelegant snort. “Why would there be snakes?”

“I don’t know! Why wouldn’t there be? There are snakes here.”

“But why would the snakes be in the trap?” Abigail asked, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. “Dae ye nae hear how silly that sounds?”

“Maybe someone could have put them there,” Hugo said.

“Why would anyone?—”

Abigail stopped herself with a sigh before this argument could evolve any further. Instead, she turned around and marched back to the horse, all the while Hugo yelling up at her.

“Where are you going?”

“Stay where ye are!”

“ Ah, oui! Je pensais que je partirais! ”

Abigail rolled her eyes even though Hugo couldn’t see her. She was perfectly aware there was nowhere he could go, stuck as he was in that hole, but telling him to stay put was simply a figure of speech, one she didn’t think she had to explain to him.

She had half a mind to leave him there.

When she reached the horse, she grabbed her bag and rummaged through it, finding the rope she had stashed there before leaving the castle. Abigail was nothing if not prepared. If life had taught her anything, it was that she had to go everywhere with a full bag.

Hurriedly, she tied the rope around a tree, securing it with a tight knot, and then tossed it over into the hole for Hugo to grab.

Only as she did, the rope caught her foot and she, too, fell inside along with it, landing squarely on top of Hugo, who had stepped forward to catch it.

Hugo landed on his back with a thud and a groan, and Abigail landed on top of him, her limbs thrown in every direction. Her first thought was that now Hugo would certainly be angry about his clothes, and there was nothing she could say or do to appease him until she found him something else to wear.

And yet, Hugo laughed under her, Abigail shaking on top of him along with his chest.

“What is so very funny?” she asked.

“You fell like a rock,” Hugo said, much to her annoyance. She didn’t appreciate being compared to a rock. “And now you’re in this mess with me. How are you ever going to get out?”

With a grunt, Abigail pushed herself to her feet, planting her hands on Hugo’s chest. She had half a mind to kick him again where he lay, just for the satisfaction of it, but instead she dusted herself and grasped the rope to climb out.

I’ll show him how I’ll get out o’ here. I dinnae need his help.

The rope was cutting into Abigail’s palms as she gripped it tightly, but she tried to ignore the slight sting. She placed one leg on the earthen wall of the hole, pressing into the soil with her heel, then did the same with the other leg and pulled herself up, only to find that she didn’t move at all. For a moment, she paused, acutely aware of the gaze on her back, Hugo watching her as she failed on her first try.

She couldn’t let him win. She took a deep breath and tried again, once more making no progress. After placing a foot down, she adjusted her grip, tried again, and that time, too, failed.

Behind her, she could hear a barely concealed laugh and when she looked over her shoulder at Hugo, she found his shoulders shaking with mirth, a hand clamped over his mouth.

With a growl, Abigail let go of the rope and stepped back from the wall, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “So, perhaps I cannae dae it, but at least I am tryin’,” she admitted. “Will ye simply stand there an’ watch me?”

Hugo only laughed a little more as he grabbed the rope and easily pulled himself out, before hovering over the edge. He looked at her contemplatively for a while instead of helping her, and her patience quickly ran low.

“Should I help you out or should I leave you there?” Hugo asked, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Help me out, o’ course!” Abigail said. “Did I nae help ye too?”

“I’m sure there was a moment when you considered simply leaving me there,” Hugo said.

Could he read me mind? How does he ken?

“I would never dae that,” she said. “Ye’d come out an’ chase me.”

“Most likely,” said Hugo. “But you can’t come out, no?”

“I’ll come out eventually,” Abigail pointed out. “As much as ye may wish fer it, ye cannae trap me here forever.”

With a chuckle, Hugo bent down and offered Abigail his hand, finally helping her out of the trap. The force of his tug had her stumbling right into him once more, and for a moment, they both froze, staring at each other. His breath was warm on her skin, his lips close to hers, hovering right above her mouth. They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity to her, until Abigail cleared her throat and pulled back, putting some much-needed distance between them.

Just in the past few hours, she had been closer to Hugo than ever before. She didn’t remember ever touching him this much, and now the sudden proximity was playing tricks on her. She had always been aware that Hugo was objectively a handsome man, of course. If anything, she was the kind of woman who could appreciate a handsome face, her gaze often tracing the angles of his jaw, the gentle slope of his nose, the prominent cheekbones and sharp cupid’s bow. That didn’t mean she liked him, though. His personality made him entirely undesirable.

Once she was safely away from the trap, Abigail finally let go of the breath she had been holding, even though she knew Hugo was only teasing her and wouldn’t actually leave her there.

A thin darkness surrounded them by then, the sun quickly setting in the horizon, and she would have hated to be in there once the light was all gone, thinking about all the other creeping things that could be in there with her when she couldn’t see them. The forest floor was their home, after all, and she was the one intruding. She wouldn’t be surprised to turn around and see some terrible beast crawling up her leg.

What she saw instead was a small gash on Hugo’s arm where his shirt had been ripped. Blood coated the fabric, though the bleeding seemed to have stopped. Still, Abigail approached him and took a better look at the wound, grabbing his arm to bring it close to her face.

“Ye hurt yerself,” she said. With a sigh, she looked through her bag until she found what she was searching for: a small jar with a pungent paste, perfect for wounds like that.

“How many things do you have in that bag?” Hugo asked, eyes crinkling with amusement.

“It is good tae be prepared,” Abigail pointed out. “See? Ye’re in need o’ it now. If I didnae have it, yer wound could get infected.”

“It’s only a small wound,” Hugo said.

“Ye ken that is more than enough.” Abigail opened the jar, but she couldn’t get to the entire wound with Hugo’s shirt on the way. “Take off yer shirt.”

“What?”

“Ye heard me,” she said. “I cannae reach yer wound like this.”

Hugo hesitated for a moment, looking at her with the sort of doubt she wouldn’t expect from a man like him, but then he did as he was told, holding his shirt in his hands as he let Abigail come closer and dab the paste over the wound with a careful finger.

The sight of him shirtless, though, had her blushing once more, heat rising to her cheeks. It wasn’t just his face that was attractive; his body, too, was sculpted beautifully, strong and lean, the muscles of his chest and stomach rippling invitingly with every movement he made.

“You don’t need to blush like this,” he said. Of course, from this close he had noticed the blush, Abigail thought bitterly. “I’m sure you’ve seen many men nude, no?”

That only served to send more blood rushing to her face, her embarrassment forcing her into stillness. “What are ye sayin’?” she said, so quietly that her voice was only barely audible, even to her. “O’ course I havenae.”

For a few moments, Hugo regarded her curiously, as though searching for something in her expression. Whatever he saw there made him hum and quickly change the subject, something for which Abigail was eternally grateful.

She knew the kind of reputation she had around the castle, of course. She knew people thought she spent all her time with men, but she had done nothing more than kiss a few of them.

“How do you know so much about healing?” Hugo asked.

“We are a family o’ healers,” said Abigail. “Me sisters taught me everythin’ I ken.”

After that, Abigail worked in silence, making sure the entire wound was coated in the paste. Once she was satisfied, she stepped back and Hugo watched her for a moment, still silent, before he put his shirt back on.

Abigail could never tell what Hugo was thinking. She could never read the man, no matter how much she tried.

“I’ll build a fire,” Hugo said, clearing his throat and breaking the spell between them, as he went around the clearing and gathered some wood for them. When he returned, Abigail handed him the tinderbox she had packed in her bag and then sat down to watch him, pulling some food out for the two of them.

“I havenae brought much with me,” she said, going through her rations. “I thought I’d be alone, so I only brought enough food fer one. But I’m sure we can find more on the morrow.”

There would be a village or a town on their way, surely, and they could find some food. It was better than starving, after all, she thought.

Abigail munched on a bit of dried meat as she leaned back against a tree. “Why did ye come with me?” she asked, just like she had wanted to ever since Hugo made the suggestion in the first place. “Why are ye here?”

“I couldn’t let you leave alone,” Hugo said with a small shrug, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Your little Lachlan was right. It’s dangerous. You need someone to take care of you.”

Abigail said nothing. What was there even to say to something like that? Her cheeks heated, and she was glad for the cover of the night, as it meant that Hugo couldn’t see her blush that time, but he seemed preoccupied with starting the fire anyway, too busy to look at her.

When he managed to get the flames going, they rose up in the sky and Abigail scrabbled back, frightened for a moment. Every time the flames go a little too close, even if she was safe, she couldn’t help but startle, her heartbeat picking up to the point of discomfort.

“Did it frighten you?” Hugo asked, wiping his hands clean as he came to sit next to her. “Forgive me.”

“Nay,” said Abigail, her gaze still glued to the flames. “Nay, it isnae that.”

Of course, Hugo didn’t know the story. Abigail looked at him as he watched her expectantly, waiting for her patiently to say something.

If only he knew how difficult those words were to utter.