Page 25 of Ensnaring the Dove
Colombia pulled a face. “I suppose not,” she admitted. “Although despite everything that’s befallen you, you’re still alive … Fortuna must be smiling upon you a little.”
“I don’t worship the same gods as you, Colombia.”
His tone was sharp, and heat rose in Colombia’s cheeks.Goose. Of course, he wouldn’t believe in Fortuna. She’d heard that, like her own people, the Britons worshipped a few deities. “And what God would you pray to for good luck then?”
“The Hag,” he replied. “Goddess of the dark, winter, and the earth.”
“The Hag?” Colombia’s mouth quirked. “It’s just as well our paths crossed with Enid’s then.”
He snorted a laugh then before casting her a glance over his shoulder, his gaze glinting in the silvery light of the moon. “So, you believe me now … about the relations between your people and mine?”
Colombia frowned. Pluto take him, of course he’d bring that up. The man wouldn’t let her suffer her humiliation with dignity. Instead, he’d rub her face in it.
“I’ve little choice, do I?” she replied, her tone brittle. “After what just happened.”
Silence fell then, broken only by the soft pad of their feet across the bed of leaves and moss. When Aedan eventually spoke, his voice was subdued. “The truth is sometimes difficult to take, Colombia … but better that than to go through life believing a lie.”
XI. SHE ISN’T YOUR WOMAN
STOPPING ON THE edge of the woods, Aedan pushed wet hair out of his eyes and glanced around. He then peered through the sheets of driving rain.
The night had been clear when they’d set out from Achwig, but—in typical fashion—the weather suddenly changed. As they marched toward dawn, a cold wind sprang up from the north, and shortly after, he’d felt spits of rain on his face.
The rain had started slowly, increasing in force until it poured down.
By daybreak, they were both soaked to the skin, despite the canopy of leaves above them.
Aedan wouldn’t have minded so much if it had been a warm summer rain. However, now that they were out in the open, with the chill north wind buffeting them, he was starting to feel uncomfortably cold. And when he turned his attention from his surroundings and glanced back at where Colombia had halted on the tree line, he frowned.
She’d pulled her wet woolen shawl close, yet she was shivering. Her hair was plastered against her skull, her heart-shaped face pale.
“Do you know where we are?” she asked, moving closer.
Aedan nodded. “We’re still heading in the right direction.” He gestured into the distance. “We just have to keep walking northwest, and we’ll get to Onnum in the next couple of days.”
“Good,” Colombia murmured, her voice oddly flat. “The sooner I get there the better.”
Aedan studied her face, his gaze narrowing further. His companion didn’t look happy this morning. Her gaze had turned inward, and her mouth was pinched. Nonetheless, she couldn’t deny what had happened in Achwig.
As they’d approached the village the evening before, viewing the huddle of sod cottages with smoke drifting from their thatched roofs, he’d felt a pang of misgiving. If he’d been traveling alone, the locals would have taken him in without issue, but folk in out-of-the-way places like this were wary of outsiders and wouldn’t take well to a Roman woman striding into their village.
He hadn’t been surprised when a few of them slammed their doors in his face, but he’d thought they’d leave things there. He should have realized that when the men had downed a few skinfuls of ale, their courage, and aggression, would rise.
The one who’d attacked Aedan had been the mouthiest, calling her his whore, and naming him a filthy, lice-ridden bitch-humper, among other things.
The words had washed off Aedan—he’d been called worse over the years—but he’d been glad that Colombia hadn’t understood their coarse insults.
Watch yourself, a warning whispered to him then,you’re getting too protective of her.She isn’t your woman.
Aedan’s mouth thinned. No, she wasn’t.
Colombia was promised to a high-ranking Roman officer—a man who’d let five years pass without sending for her or making a trip home to see his bride-to-be.
Still, that wasn’t his problem. He needed only to focus on getting Colombia safely to Onnum. After that, he’d have to think about whathisfuture held.
Aedan fought the urge to scowl then. He was like a boat cast off to sea without oars or anchor. Lost. His chest tightened, yet he pushed the discomforting sensation aside. Enough. He’d think about himself later.
Instead, his gaze returned to Colombia’s determined, yet exhausted, rain-slicked face. Aye, she was weary, but she swallowed any complaints. Her grit impressed him. If he was honest, there were many things he liked about Colombia—although it was wise not to dwell on them.