Page 53 of Taken By the Devilish Highlander
Elijah Adamson.
“Is everything alright?” Elijah asked. He walked toward her with concern. “Do ye need something?”
“Why are ye following me?” Feya asked, but as soon as she spoke the words, she felt ridiculous. This was Archer’s man-at-arms. Of course, he wasn’t spying on her. Or if he was, he was doing it at Archer’s bidding, simply to keep Ayla and Feya safe.
“Following ye?” He asked. But Feya had come too far to back off now.
“I saw ye in the village. And again, at the stables.”
He regarded her for a moment, his mouth a firm line across his face, but then he nodded.
“Aye,” he said. “I’m keeping an eye. But I meant no harm by it.”
“Did Archer tell ye to?” She asked. The thought made her angry. Why would Archer do everything he could to avoid her while simultaneously ensuring her safety? It was all too frustrating, resulting in a complex mix of emotions.
“Nay,” he said with a shake of his head. “I did it on me own. I dinnae want these rumors to make anyone do something rash. I should have told ye, lass.”
“Rumors?”
Feya didn’t know what Elijah was talking about. What rumors were going around? Were they about her?
“He didn’t tell ye?”
Feya shook her head, feeling like someone was playing a joke on her but she didn’t understand it. She waited for Elijah to elaborate.
“There are people,” he started. “Who think ye may be…bewitching him.”
“Witchcraft?” she said, instantly outraged. It was the oldest accusation in the book for healers, one Feya had dealt with back in her earliest days of healing. She hadn’t thought the people of Dougal Castle would fall prey to such ridiculous notions.
“Some think so, yes,” he nodded. “They think all the potions and medicines are a way to influence him. Or to keep him in line in some way. And there are those who are angry about it.”
“I’mangry about it,” Feya cried. “What an outdated way of thinking. Is this why he’s avoiding me? Is this why he won’t be in the same room as me?”
Elijah opened his hands, a gesture of uncertainty.
“Perhaps,” he said evenly. “And perhaps he is right to. It isnae good for the clan to think their Laird can be influenced by a woman. He would be wise to keep his distance.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, unsure how to unravel his words. They sounded sincere, as if Elijah had his Laird’s best interests at heart, but there was something beneath them that set Feya’s teeth on edge. Without another word, she took off down the hallway, brushing past Elijah as she set her sights on Archer’s study door.
He was finishing the final line of a letter when his door flew open. Archer looked up in surprise to see Feya glaring at him, her hands planted resolutely on her hips.
“What are ye doin’,” he asked, getting to his feet.
“Is this why ye’re avoiding me?” she asked. He blinked at her, wondering why it felt like they were launching into a conversation he hadn’t heard the beginning of.
“What are ye talkin’ about?”
“How can ye let some rumors get to ye?” She asked. “Or maybe ye don’t think they’re rumors. Maybe ye believe them yourself.”
Her cheeks were red with anger, but at the same time, he saw tears pricking at her eyes. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, to try to calm her down from whatever had made her upset. But then he remembered that she was going home. A few more days and she would be out of his life forever.
“What rumors?” he asked.
She seemed to look at him for the first time, recognizing that perhaps he really didn’t know what she was speaking of. She jutted out her chin before answering him.
“That I’m a witch,” she sighed. “That I’m holding some power over ye.”
“And ye think I believe that?” he scoffed. He shook his head at her, shocked she could ever believe it of him.
