Page 22 of The Highlander's Temporary Bride
Suddenly, a cool cloth was put on her forehead, and the sharp scent of mint invaded her nostrils.
“Remain still and breathe,” said a low and soothing voice.
“Who—?” Emma started to ask, but her head spun again. “What is wrong with me?”
“That’s what I’m here to find out.”
Finally, Emma was able to open her eyes. Only to find an ice-kissed blond woman, from her soft blue eyes to her white-blonde hair, watching her.
Though the woman looked rather austere, with her gray clothes and serious expression, Emma felt a sense of calm wash over her and offered the woman a smile.
“Good evening,” she croaked. “Thank you.”
The woman did not answer but instead set about inspecting Emma’s face and lifting her wrist to take her pulse. Then, she stood up and caught Emma’s shoulder as Emma tried to also rise.
“Nay. Stay still.”
She walked away, and Emma tried to turn her head but could not without feeling a surge of dizziness. She closed her eyes and only opened them again when she heard a rustle of fabric next to her.
The woman now was perched on a stool by the sofa. “Ye seem more alert. Can ye tell me what is wrong?”
“Wait, who—who are you?” Emma blinked and tried to look around, but again, the woman stopped her. “Where is Laird Ronson?”
“The Laird has retired to his rooms, but he told me to check on ye.”
Emma bolted up at that, not caring how the room spun, and stared at this woman, who merely raised an eyebrow at her reaction.
“What—hetoldyou? He spoke?” The woman simply gazed at her until she felt herself flush. But she could not stop herself from asking in a careful voice, “Can he speak?”
Again, the woman did not respond or react. But after a moment, she asked, “Can ye tell me why the Laird is worried?”
“I-I don’t know,” Emma said, then she blinked, recalling how she’d fainted yesterday. Her body seemed to grow hot as she recalled how Laird Ronson had carried her and had kept an eye on her. “Well, I fainted. And I’m dizzy now—but I did not eat much.”
“Ye fainted today?” the woman asked, and Emma shook her head. “Yesterday?”
“Yes. I… There was blood from an injury, and I did not care for that.” Her stomach lurched. “I’m sure that must sound foolish.”
“Nae at all,” the woman said, her voice warm. “Bloodshed isnae somethin’ most folks wish to see. Even a healer.”
“You’re a healer?” Emma asked, even though she had suspected as much.
“Aye. I’m Kyla, and I run the Healing Houses of Banrose. It doesnae seem like ye are in distress, but I’d recommend havin’ some food and drink, and rest.”
“Yes, I’d like to rest,” Emma admitted as she fought a yawn. “Thank you.”
“If the dizziness persists through tomorrow, come see me again, Emma,” Kyla said, and Emma started at the use of her name. “It was nice to meet ye.”
“Likewise,” Emma returned.
“I’ll send food and drink verra soon. Stay there.”
“Oh, I-I will, I promise,” Emma said with emphasis. She was about to continue when she thought she saw a twinkle in Kyla’seyes. Her own narrowed, but Kyla gave her a solemn nod and then swept out of the room.
Gazing around, Emma felt her lips part as she took in the strange splendor of the stone room. It was not so different from some of the older manors and castles she’d stayed in, yet it had some Scottish flavor that she’d never experienced. Or perhaps it was just Banrose.
There were tapestries on the stone walls, a large fireplace in the corner, and beautiful, comfortable furniture. Turning around, Emma gasped as she spotted a mural of the gardens and the loch, painted with loving care.
Though she had been shocked by the size of the castle, she had been expecting dim rooms and practical furniture, no better than the one in cheap taverns. This was as sumptuous as her parents’ home, yet it had a richness and color that made her pulse quicken.
