Page 29 of Wedded to the Twisted Highlander
With a swift nod, Astrid slipped out of bed. The icy wooden floor might as well have been made from stone.
Putting her robe on, she made a beeline for the door. She stole one last glance at Melody before exiting. Hurrying through the dimly lit corridor, her bare feet pattered against the floor.
The flickering torches that lined the walls cast long, ominous shadows over the hall. The flames sputtered and flickered to the rhythm of her frantically beating heart. Each step she took seemed to echo the urgency that gnawed at her heart.
“Och, thank God ye’ve come,” another maid whispered the moment Astrid rounded the corner. “He’s nae doin’ so well. Old Lady McFair is in there wit’ him now.”
Astrid swallowed past the lump of fear in her throat. She understood all too well that Tavish’s death was inevitable. Yet, it wasn’t a situation she enjoyed being a part of.
With a steady hand on the door, she entered the room. The warm air inside swirled around her and invited her in, as opposed to the chill in the hallway.
She pulled in a deep breath as her eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room. There, writhing in pain on the grand bed, was Tavish. Every muscle in his body spasmed, and he looked as if he was turning into a fossil.
“Oh, thank the heavens,” Alba cried as she motioned for Astrid to come closer. “I’m sorry for summonin’ ye at this hour, but the tonic ye gave him… I need more. He’s goin’ through it like it’s water.”
“Ye are aware that the tonic isnae a remedy. It’s only a means to ease his pain,” Astrid said, her voice cracking with emotion.
She hated seeing the suffering, especially when it was someone so loved. How Alba had managed to remain by her husband’s side so faithfully puzzled Astrid. It was something that rattled her to her very core.
Was marriage something more than just submission and control?
Confused by the emotions swirling inside her, Astrid turned to Alba. She rolled her shoulders back. After all, she hadn’t been summoned to just watch Tavish’s demise but to ease his pain.
“I’ll go to the garden and get more herbs. The tonic will take at least an hour to be ready. In the meantime, there is a balm on the table next to ye. Ye can massage it into his muscles, and it should stop the spasms while I prepare the tonic,” Astrid said.
Alba flashed her a grateful smile that made her heart swell.
Astrid turned back and reached for the doorknob. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“I’m sorry,” Alba whispered.
For a moment, Astrid thought Alba was talking to her, but when she turned to respond, the woman’s eyes were trained on Tavish. The love that radiated from her was unlike anything Astrid had ever seen.
“Please, me love, ye must get better for me. Ye cannae leave me in this world without ye.”
Astrid’s heart stuttered as she stepped back out into the chill of the hallway. With a new purpose, she rushed through the castle like a phantom. There was no telling how much longer Tavish had, but the love between him and Alba had just shattered her core beliefs.
She burst through the side door and ran to the garden. It didn’t matter that her robe was the only thing separating her from the harsh cold of the night. She was on a mission. If she could give Alba just one more day with her husband, she would do it.
The cool night air enveloped her as the moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver glow over the lush landscape. Her heart skipped a beat as she made her way down the cobble path.
For a moment, she wished she had put on her shoes to protect her feet, but how was she to know that she’d end up wandering in the garden in the middle of the night?
“Say the name, banshee, and be done. Ye come for me faither, do ye nae?”
Astrid froze. The sound of the Laird’s harsh voice behind her rippled through her like a northeastern wind.
Slowly, she turned around as her heart pounded in her chest.
“Astrid? What are ye doin’?” Laird McFair asked as he lowered his dirk, his eyes as wide as the moon overhead. But then his shock faded into amusement as a smirk tugged at his lips. “And in nothing but yer shift, I might add. Do ye sleepwalk?”
Astrid watched as he took off his coat and draped it around her shoulders. His warmth still lingered on the fabric. As much as she wanted to refuse it, she couldn’t. She was far too warm to give it up now.
“Nay, I’ve come to collect some herbs.”
“At night?” The Laird leaned closer and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Are ye a witch then?”
“Nay,” Astrid snapped, clearly irritated by the remark. “Yer faither is havin’ an episode, and yer maither ran out of the tonic I had made for him.”
