Her block was unnecessary.
A form moved in front of her with such fluid speed, she barely recognized it for a man. In the time it took to suck in her breath, the new arrival had her attacker on the ground with his sword arm jerking back to deliver a killing blow.
“Stop.” The word left Senara's mouth before she'd even thought it.
The new man was taller than the four others, and shoulder-length black hair obscured his face. His clothes were fine and immaculate despite him being on the same dusty open road as she.
“Why should he live?” He kept his gaze fixed on his defeated foe as he spoke. “He attacked a defenseless woman with three other men. He's a coward.”
Ire plucked at Senara. She tucked her dagger into her belt and approached him with her free hand cocked on her hip. “Defenseless, ye say?”
His gaze lifted toward her sword, and a smile flickered at the corner of his mouth. “Aye, well, armed then.” He pulled his blade from where it hovered threateningly at the blond man's throat. “Off with the lot of ye or I'll have ye hanged.”
By the time the defeated man had scrambled to his feet, his companions had already limped off.
The dark-haired man turned toward Senara. “Are ye hurt?”
“Nay, because I'm more than armed - I know what I'm doing.” Senara pushed her sword into its scabbard. The heavy weight of it fell against the side of her right thigh, reminding her of how many times she'd seen her da with it slung in exactly the same way. It made her feel invincible and powerful and...and horribly homesick for her family.
“Ye held them off well, I'll give ye that,” the man said.
She turned her attention to Norbert rather than give in to the sudden tightness in her throat at the thought of her family and the familiar thatched home set back in the mountains. “I'll have ye know I dinna need yer help.”
For his part, Norbert had been quite brave in how he'd stood staring at the men with his dark, soft eyes. She'd make sure to find something sweet for him later.
When the man didn't speak again, she turned and found him watching her with his brow lifted.
He had rather nice brows, for a man. Not too arched like a lass, but not so flat as to make him low-browed and angry. Just enough of an arch to lend his deep brown eyes a look of sincerity.
Senara realized she was not only staring, but also had not properly thanked him for his aid - even if she hadn't necessarily required it. “But thank ye for stopping - it was kind of ye.”
He nodded, his expression unchanged from that pensive, sincere stare of his. “I'll help ye onto yer horse, so ye can be on yer way.” The rich timbre of his voice matched his gaze - even and deep.
And entirely pleasing, if she was being honest.
She waved away his offer. “Ach, no - I'll walk.”
He didn't reply and in the end, it was the stretch of silence which pressed the answer from her.
“Norbert has carried me the better part of the day and I'm no' expected to arrive until nightfall.” She let her gaze skim the swells of deep purple and the sunlit fields.
The warm day had turned the scent of grass into something lush and sweet beneath the perfume of heather. A smile tugged at her lips. “This is the perfect sort of day to tarry, dinna ye think?”
He slid a side glance to where she'd been gazing. “I assume ye were walking when ye were attacked.”
As he'd made the statement rather than asking an actual question, Senara didn't bother to reply. Instead, she lifted her face toward the warmth of the sun and closed her eyes against its caress.
Perhaps it hadn't been the wisest of choices to not be riding Norbert, but she knew well enough how to fend off attacks. Even Da always said what an incredibly lucky lass she was as she could always seem to manage herself out of awful situations.
“I'll walk with ye.” The man's voice interrupted her thoughts.
Senara opened her eyes and regarded him. His dark hair was not actually black, but a deep, deep brown with threads of red-gold, which near glowed in the sunlight.
“It isna necessary.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and only then realized it'd come loose during the fight.
“As ye can defend yerself.” He finished the sentence for her and went to claim the reins of his horse in a stubborn demonstration of his intent.
“I dinna need ye to walk with me,” Senara insisted.
“Perhaps I also prefer to tarry.” He said it with such a straight face, Senara couldn't help but laugh.
“Fine,” she conceded. “I'm Senara. If we're to be tarrying together, we ought to know one another's names.”
He gave a courteous nod. “Gavin.”
Gavin.
It seemed a good name for a man so beautiful.
Aye, he'd be a fine travel companion for the rest of her journey until it ended at Castle of Park and her new life would officially begin.
***
Gavin MacDuff had given only his name. Perhaps providing his full title would have seemed too pretentious a thing when Senara's lack of wealth was so obvious with her simple gray cloth gown and her tired steed.
It also may have had to do with the assumption she wouldn't care.
Gavin had rescued other women before. They'd all been grateful and eager to show their appreciation, especially after a shrewd assessment of his costly horse and clothing.
Though the lass had eventually remembered to thank him, she'd been ruffled at his interference.
“Ye've a fine sword on yer hip.” He nodded toward the leather-clad blade swinging beside the long line of her leg.
Her hand settled over the exposed hilt in a caring, protective gesture. “It was my da's. He was a knight when I was a babe, but the king dinna much care for him speaking his mind and took it all away.” She spoke of her father's loss of favor as if it were unimportant.
In a world dictated by the wealthy and the titled, her nonchalance offered a very foreign perspective.
Foreign and fascinating.
In fact, she'd never regarded his horse, or him, with the same assessing gaze other women did. Instead, she seemed to watch him with quiet observation. It made him wish he could see through her glass green eyes and into the sequestered thoughts beyond.
“He trained me with it when I was a wee lass,” she said. “Me and now my brother, Geordie.” She let her fingertips skim along the tops of the heather, leaving a ripple of purple flowers wavering in her wake. “They're why I came all this way.”
“And why is that?” Gavin asked with genuine interest.
Even Senara's posture was relaxed, as if she were without burden in her life. He envied her that.
No lairdship was stacked on her shoulders, no need for an heir pressing on her daily, no damn rejection to a marriage proposal to Colina MacKintosh.
Though it'd been a perfect match and could bring perpetual peace between their clans, her father had been adamant in his refusal without even listening to Gavin’s offer.