Page 34 of Taken By the Devilish Highlander
Ayla was surprised by the direct question, and she looked up from her work. She had been making short quips and jokes about getting married ever since Archer’s ultimatum, but when it came to speaking honestly about it, Ayla often avoided the question. Feya wondered if she would answer and almost apologized for overstepping, but then Ayla shrugged her shoulders, and true frustration crossed her face.
“I have no idea,” she said. “I’ve asked him why it’s so important. He doesnae need me future husband’s wealth or even any alliances. Archer has done a fine job securing his position all on his own.”
“Speaking of the Laird,” Holly said, tossing her skirts back over her lower legs. “It’s time for his medicine.”
Feya or Ayla had been delivering Feya’s latest drink to Archer twice a day, hoping to find the right mixture that would stave off any episodes. Feya usually went in the morning, where she would frequently find Archer locked in his study, scheming with his man-at-arms or handling his correspondence.
“Would ye go?” Feya asked, looking at Ayla. The shadow of their encounter in Archer’s bedroom last night made Feya ask it. “I’d like to finish this.”
She glanced at the glass in front of her, flower petals and spices floating on the surface. It was a silly excuse, since it would take no more than ten minutes to deliver today’s drink to Archer. Feya narrowed her eyes at Feya.
“Is this about last night?” She asked. The girls had spent so much time together, it was no surprise Ayla was able to read Feya’s hesitation. “I knew something happened.”
“Nay,” Feya said. “It was nothing.”
“Did he raise his voice?” Ayla asked. Her eyes were probing, making Feya feel far too exposed, so she simply kept her mouth closed. “I kenned it. It always happens when he feels exposed. He cannae stand to look weak.”
“It was nothing,” Feya insisted, but soon Holly was there too, nodding along with Ayla.
“I’ve seen him when he’s in one of those moods,” she said. “He’ll say whatever he can to push people away. If he wants ye out of the room, he’ll do everythin’ he can to get ye out.”
“It was me own fault,” Feya said. She felt a need to defend Archer, wanting to protect him from Ayla and Holly’s judgment. “I shouldnae have pushed him. He was confused. I should have let him be.”
“Nay,” Ayla said. “That’s what he wants—to push ye away. But he’ll never get better if he doesnae let ye near him.”
“It’s true,” Holly agreed. “We cannae walk away just because the sick tell us to. What sort of healers would we be then?”
Feya considered this, remembering the reason she had come here. She had told Archer she would heal him before returning to her family. But if he refused to try what she offered, then what was she doing here? A flash of Archer’s lips on her neck made her blush, but she pushed the thought aside. She couldn’t let thoughts of kissing Archer distract her.
“You’re right,” Feya nodded. “He brought me here to heal him. He must let me try.”
“That’s it,” Ayla smiled, pleased with the fight she saw in Feya’s eyes. “Ye must stand up to him when he’s like this. Get him somewhere he can’t leave and talk things out. It’s the only way to get Archer to actually tell ye what he’s feeling.”
“Somewhere he can’t leave?” Feya asked with a laugh. “He’s the Laird of this castle. He can leave any room he wants to.”
Ayla shrugged as she turned back to the work in front of her, gripping the pestle with force. “Ye’re the healer,” she said, a smirk on her lips. “I’m sure ye’ll think of something.”
The women fell into silence, the only sound in the room the crunching in Ayla’s bowl. It was then that an idea came into Feya’s mind. She had an image of the one spot where she might be able to trap him. A place Archer wouldn’t try to escape from.
17
“Icannae trust him,” Archer said from his desk. He glared at a nearly empty piece of paper, the entirety of a report one of his men wrote on Lennox’s movements yesterday. Elijah stood nearby, cleaning his nails with the small knife he carried on his belt.
“He’ll slip up,” Elijah insisted. “We need to stay on him. You saw what he tried to pull with that messenger from Scott.”
“Aye. I also saw ye did nothing to stop him.”
The man looked up in surprise, offended by the accusation.
“Ye want to catch him doin’ something wrong, aye?” Elijah asked. He stood from where he had been leaning on the arm of a chair. “I practically gave him to ye on a silver platter.”
“And how did ye ken I would be home?” Archer asked. He had been thinking about that night more and more. He was furious with Lennox, but Elijah had shown just as much poor judgment.
Something Malcolm never would have done.
“Yedidcome home,” Elijah countered. “And if ye dinnae run off without telling anyone I could have kenned for sure.”
Archer sighed, forcing himself to remain in control. He couldn’t fault Elijah just because he wasn’t his brother. Archer had always known Elijah lacked the intelligence and strategic smarts of his younger sibling, and he had made Elijah his man-at-arms anyway.
