Page 72 of Taken By the Heartless Highlander
Noah snorted. “Callum, me man-at-arms, does it before he goes into battle or a fight. Any body of water usually. He uses the fountain if he’s in the castle sparrin’ with me. He claims it helps him think, and he has a small brain. Perhaps it does.”
Keira found herself laughing, and something warm bloomed in her chest as she heard an answering chuckle from Noah.
She entered her chambers and indicated the seat by the fire. Before she went to get the tea, however, a gentle hand took hers, and she looked back at him.
“Let me see that note again, lass,” he muttered.
She handed it over, and he read it for a second time before looking at her pointedly and throwing it into the embers of the fire.
“Ye dinnae need to worry about him, lass; I’ll keep ye safe.”
She nodded but couldn’t help frowning at his words.
He has offered to marry me only to protect me. He might desire me, but he sees no real future for us. Why else would he want us to live separate lives?
Shaking off the feeling, she went to the small jar with the gauze over the top, which still held some residual warmth. The tea had turned to a clear yellow color, and she held it out for him.
Noah looked at it—deeply unimpressed.
“I said the dogs pissed in the fountain; I daenae wish to drink it.”
She giggled. “Away with ye, it is atea.”
* * *
Noah tried his best to keep his gaze on the urine-colored glass in her hands rather than the light in her eyes. If it had been possible to bottle a sound, he would have done so when she giggled. It was the sweetest music to his ears.
“And why are ye givin’ me tea?” he asked.
“Because,” she said irritably, thrusting it at him so he had to take it as she grabbed a book from the side. “It helps with chest pain.”
She held out the well-worn page , and he squinted to see through the dark green blotches across it.
He eyed the bottle again, deeply suspicious of the color.
“I think I’ll take me chances,” he said, rising to his feet.
In truth, it was mainly to rile her, which was exactly what his movement did. Her hands came up to his shoulders, pushing him back into his seat as she made an exasperated sound.
He laughed gently at her angry gaze, “I dinnae think a tea is goin’ to help.”
“And what would ye ken about it, me laird?”
He frowned at her. “I thought ye called me Noah, now,” he said reproachfully.
She cleared her throat. “That was different.”
Noah cocked his head at her, watching her eyes flicker to his and back to the fire.
“If we are to be married—” he began.
“That is hardly certain?—”
“Ifwe are to be married, ye will call me by me name, woman.”
Keira sighed heavily and shook her head, putting down the book.
“Fine. Noah. What would ye ken about whether or nae a tea would help? Yer Deindre never gave ye tea?”
