…
Men truly were exasperating creatures. Juliana glanced at Rory as they rode out of Fort William. He simply would not admit that her idea had been good. Not only had she set up a counterargument for whatever story Neal might tell, but she’d also insinuated that there might be trouble between clans if he continued his pursuit, which the English definitely did not want.Andshe had also given the lieutenant an opportunity to be the hero by alerting his commander. All in all, she was quite pleased with herself.
Obviously, Rory was not. He’d had no comment after her explanation. He’d only muttered something in Gaelic and then stomped into the store to retrieve her packages. When he’d come out, he’d introduced her to Misty, the dappled grey mare he’d purchased, then hoisted her up without so much as a by-your-leave, picked up her reins, and set off at a trot.
“I can take charge of my own horse.”
He looked over to her and raised a brow.
“What? I can ride, you know.”
His brow went fractionally higher. “How would ye handle the reins when ye are hanging on to the pommel as if your life depended on it?”
“My life depends on staying atop the horse, does it not? How can I do that with all the jolting if I do not hang on? My teeth are rattling.”
His mouth quirked. “Think of the poor horse, then.”
“What do you mean?”
“I suspect the mare might appreciate it if ye dinna bounce up and down, jarring her at every step.”
Juliana glared at him. “A trot is hard to ride.”
“Would ye care to canter then?”
Cantering had a rocking-chair motion, which had been fairly comfortable when she’d ridden pillion with Rory, in no danger of falling off with his arms on either side of her. But she wasn’t entirely sure she could hold on by herself at the faster pace. Not that she was going to admit that to Rory. “Can we not just walk?”
He shook his head. “I want to reach Spean before nightfall. Having to ride north first and then circle back is going to take time.”
She gave him a suspicious look. “Are you saying that because it wasmyidea to ride in the direction of Grant Castle in case someone saw us and might remember which direction we went?”
“Nae. Actually, ’twas the best idea ye had.”
“Thank you.” She frowned. “I think.”
He didn’t answer but reined in both horses a few paces later.
“Why are we stopping?”
“I canna bear seeing ye torture that poor mare any longer.”
Her brows drew together again. “I am not trying to torture Misty. She is a very nice horse.” For emphasis, she leaned over to pat the sleek neck. “She likes me.”
“Ye are lucky she has nae decided to deposit ye alongside the road, given the way ye ride.” Rory grinned. “’Tis why I’m holding the reins.”
“I cannot help…” She stopped and redirected the topic. “I am sure Misty understands that I am not an experienced rider. She is a girl, after all.” When Rory gave her a blank look, she added, “Females are much more forgiving about such matters.”
“Forgiving?” His grin widened. “I have nae noticed such a trait in ye. Are ye hiding it?”
She drew her brows down. “Did we stop so you can insult me?”
“Nae.” He sobered. “I need to show ye how to ride the trot so your understanding horse will nae have a sore back by the time we reach Spean.”
Juliana was about to retort but bit the words back. She truly did not want to injure the animal or make her sore. She’d never been the rider that Emily was, although she’d been all right with a sedate walk through Hyde Park. As much as she didn’t want to admit incompetence, it was probably already obvious. And she certainly didn’t want to torture poor Misty. “All right then.”
Rory smirked a little as though he knew what she was thinking, but to his credit he made no comment.
“First, be sure your feet are firmly placed in the stirrups. Then, as the mare steps out, raise yourself in the saddle, hold the position while her second and third hoof come down, then lower yourself on the fourth hoof. Rise again on the first…” He leaned over and wrapped Misty’s reins around the hook on the pommel. “Doona touch those,” he warned. “Just watch me.”
