Page 51 of Taken By the Devilish Highlander
Her head swiveled in his direction, shocked by his break in the silence. He caught her eye and nodded, but then his eyes floated to the tree trunks that flanked the path they walked upon.
“Ewan Spurlock, Colm Llewylln...”
He listed them one by one, watching the side of the path as if the men stood between the trees, staring back at him. Every name was spoken with solemnity, not unlike a sermon spoken in church. Feya listened to each name, tried to picture the men who had sacrificed their lives for the good of their clan. But even as she paid tribute to the fallen soldiers, she listened closely to the tenor of Archer’s voice and admired the strength he showed in speaking these names out loud.
“Malcolm Adamson.”
They were at the edge of the woods now, and Archer paused as he mentioned his best friend and man-at-arms. Still, Feya knew there was one more name to voice. She waited, knowing she would let Archer have as much time as he needed.
“Me faither. Laird Dougal the elder.”
He said the name with his head held high. It was said with the respect of a son who felt the weight of carrying on his father’s legacy. Said with the gratitude of a man who knew that this man had sacrificed his own life so his son could live.
“Thank ye,” she said. Tears pricked at Feya’s eyes, but Archer was calm. He looked strengthened by this exercise, not weakened.
“Feya,” he said, and he turned to her. “Ryder McKenzie is holding a ceilidh to celebrate his marriage to your sister. And I’m going to attend.”
She blinked at him, overcome by the words. She hadn’t expected more news of her sister or her old clan so soon. But, of course, they would hold a celebration. She suddenly felt silly for not thinking of this herself.
“Ye are going to Castle McKenzie?” she repeated. Images of that castle flooded back to her. She saw the great hall where her sister’s wedding had taken place. She saw the huge four-poster bed where she had slept the very night she ran away. And she saw the old Laird McKenzie, flat on the ground, a puddle of blood beneath him.
“I promised ye I would bring ye back there safely,” he said. He chose his words carefully, watching every emotion that crossed her face. “This is me chance to do so.”
“But I promised to heal ye,” she said, though even when the words left her mouth she couldn’t believe she was saying them. Hadn’t she been dreaming of going home? Hadn’t she wanted nothing more than to see her siblings again, safe and sound?
“Ye have done more than anyone ever has, lass,” he told her. “It’s time I did the same for ye.”
He waited, and Feya couldn’t shake the feeling that he was waiting for her to say something. Her stomach suddenly churned with nerves, a mixture of excitement and something else…something that felt like disappointment. Could she really leave Ayla and Holly? And yet, she couldn’t stay hidden away forever. Her family needed her. But…what if Archer needed her too?
“It’s settled then,” he said, and all at once her opportunity to say something closed. “We’ll leave in a week.”
He smiled at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes. And then he turned toward the castle and marched across the ground. Feya saw his shoulders stiffen as she ran to catch up with him, the familiar image of Archer steeling himself for whatever he might find inside.
25
“Ithought we were making progress.”
Feya and Ayla rode toward the village, their horses walking slowly beneath them. Feya had offered to join Ayla on her rounds, eager to get some fresh air and have a change of scenery.
“Just when ye think ye’re making progress, the body pushes back against the treatment. It’s normal, Feya. Especially with someone as stubborn as me brother.”
“I ken,” she said with a sigh. “But I was finally feeling some hope. I daenae want to leave without making good on me promise.”
“Ooh if that’s true, then I hope me brother never recovers,” Ayla said, but she quickly qualified it. “Of course, I daenae mean that, but I can’t imagine ye leaving. Things will be so boring around here.”
Feya was quiet, but ever since Archer set the date when they would head back to McKenzie lands, she had been all too aware of the impending departure. Each time she rode with Ayla to the village, she wondered if this would be the last time. Each meal with Archer could be her last.
“But I ken ye want to get back to your family,” Ayla said. She had taken Feya’s silence as hesitation, perhaps believing Feya didn’t want to hurt her feelings by expressing a desire to go home. In reality, Feya was quiet because she still couldn’t figure out how she felt about leaving.
“Aye, it will be good to see them,” Feya agreed. She and Archer hadn’t told Ayla the truth about who exactly Feya’s family was. They had simply told her and anyone else who asked that Feya’s village was on the way to McKenzie Castle, making this trip the perfect excuse to bring Feya back home.
“My Lady.”
A tall blonde woman with a kerchief on her head beamed at Ayla and Feya as they entered the village. They dismounted to greet the woman, Kay, who always had a new pastry or slice of bread for the women to try.
“Do ye like goat cheese?” she asked, and both women nodded in their eagerness, heading toward Kay’s open door.
As Feya walked, she caught sight of someone standing on the edge of the path. He was dressed in dark clothing with a hat pulled low over his face so Feya couldn’t make out his features.A black stallion stood nearby, sniffing the ground in search of grass.
