It had been a long day of riding. A curse escaped her once again at being too proud to ride in the wagon. Now after an entire day astride, her bottom throbbed. Carrick seemed to understand her hesitance to dismount and came to help her down. He held her upright his strong arms around her waist until her legs stopped wobbling. He motioned her maid over. "Go with her to the river's edge. Ensure she doesn't fall." The maid, Erin--about five years older than her, hurried to her side. The maid was sure-footed since she'd ridden in the back of the wagon. Analise kept from watching where Carrick went. He'd not spoken to her since they'd left the keep. He'd guided his steed to the front of the small procession, leaving her to ride behind him with two of his men flanking her. "Here we are, milady," the maid told her pulling her toward the water. "Would you like to wash your face and hands?" "What I need is to soak. I fear I will never sit again," Analise moaned when she bent to cup clear water with both hands.
What do You think about Beauty And The Highlander?
