Holger had to agree. He doubted the band had intercepted him coincidentally. Morgan must have ordered it out—even across the feared pass—the moment she learned Rusel had not been able to keep him prisoner. She wouldn’t quit after this failure, either.
Carahue edged his mount close. “Methought I heard the fair lady call you by a name strange to me,” he remarked.
Alianora flushed. “N-n-nay,” she stammered. “Ye must ha’ misheard.”
Carahue arched his brows, too polite to call her a liar in so many words. She moved her own horse beside his until knees touched. “This is a wearisome journey,” she murmured. “will ye no beguile our way with some further tale o’ your exploits? Ye’ve done so many bold deeds, and ye relate them so well.”
“Oh, now… Ahem!” Carahue grinned, twirled his mustache, and launched into a recital. The girl listened wide-eyed to the most outrageous, if smoothly phrased, brags that Holger had heard in his life. Presently her respectful oh’s and ah’s got too much for the Dane to bear. He jerked harshly on Papillon’s reins and rode to one side by himself. The pleasure of his victory had quite departed.