Page 112 of Highlanders for the Holidays
“The steps to the cottage are slippery when it’s wet, which is most the time in the winter, so be careful,” Roderick said. “Go first so I can catch ye if ye fall.”
Good heavens, he was not joking. She imagined herself plunging into the sea, but she was not about to let him know that she was frightened half to death. After saying a prayer, she started up. The climb up the side of the cliff was harrowing and so steep that she was soon out of breath.
“Anything else ye ought to warn me about?” she said between gasps for air when they were finally nearing the top.
Roderick emitted what sounded like a string of curses in Gaelic. “I’ve told her time and again not to do that. One day, she’ll fall into the sea.”
Lily followed his gaze upward and gasped when she saw a figure with gray hair and a wizened face leaning precariously over the edge to peer down at them. The woman must be mad.
“There is one more thing I should warn ye about,” he said as they continued up. “My grandmother speaks only Gaelic.”
So, Lily could not even speak with the mad old woman she would be alone with for weeks on end. Perhaps she should have stayed in the dungeon.
“But it won’t matter much,” he added, “as she usually knows what you’re thinking.”
* * *
The moment Lilyentered the cottage and saw the rows of drying herbs hanging from the rafters and the shelves filled with bottles and vials, her face lit up like she’d come home.
“Oh!” she said, clasping her hands together. “This is so much like my shop.”
Roderick had not seen Lily smile since the bonfire, and it did his heart good.
“I don’t recognize that plant,” she said, crossing the tiny cottage to examine a bunch of tied herbs hanging next to the hearth.
Before he could introduce them, she and his grandmother were chattering, each in her own language, as Lily pointed to various herbs or picked up vials and sniffed them. After a time, his grandmother waved Lily onto a stool and set a hot drink next to her on the table. Her feisty terrier made his appearance then. Lily’s laughter filled the cottage when the wee dog jumped into her lap and started licking her face.
Roderick told himself he could leave with peace of mind now, knowing she would not be so miserable here after all.
But there would be no peace for him.
His grandmother met his gaze, and he knew she saw into his heart. With Lily diverted, she sidled over to him.
“She’s not our next seer, is she?” he asked.
“Nay, she’s not.”
“That means she’ll leave,” he said, his heart sinking to his feet. “What am I to do, Seanmhair?”
“Ye must persuade her to stay.” She patted his arm and recited the old expression, “Chan ann leis a’chiad bhuille thuiteas a’chraobh.”Tis not with the first stroke that the tree falls.
* * *
Lily hummedto herself as she and Seanmhair hung greenery over the door. The smells of the delicious venison stew they had made earlier filled the cottage. Odd, how this was so much like her mad ramblings about that healer who lived on the border before Roderick found her.
Seanmhair gave her a smug smile and pointed to herself. Apparently, the old woman believed she had put that dream in Lily’s head and it was her in it. Seanmhair practiced ancient magic, so perhaps she had done it.
“’Tis lucky ye live here,” Lily told her. “If people in London saw you tossing herbs on the fire and mumbling chants, they’d burn you, for certain.”
She sighed when Seanmhair spoke what Lily assumed were the same words in Gaelic and motioned impatiently for Lily to repeat them. The woman did this to her all day long.
“I’ll be leaving in a few weeks,” Lily reminded her, as she did every day, then she repeated it in Gaelic without prompting since she knew the words well by now.
Seanmhair rocked from side to side as she mumbled another chant. The old woman was strange, but she was good company, and Lily had grown fond of her in the week since her arrival.
“Will you teach me some of those spells?” Lily asked with a laugh.
She understood enough of Seanmhair’s reply to gather that the answer was an emphatic no, but Lily intended to wheedle a few spells out of her eventually.
