Page 87 of Highlanders for the Holidays
Once Roderick delivered this Sassenach healer to his clan, his duty would be done.
* * *
“Showme where it pains you,” Lily said.
After Roderick translated the phrase into Gaelic, she repeated it back to him. He had shown remarkable patience in teaching her simple phrases she would need to ply her trade.
“Ye have a good ear for our language,” he said.
If she learned quickly, it was because the words sounded so appealing when they rolled off Roderick’s tongue. Still, she could not learn much in a day. Fortunately, a healer relied on her observations as much as what she was told. She would get by.
All the same, she was glad Roderick seemed to have slowed their pace. She was not anxious to arrive in Ayr. She was not as confident as she pretended at the prospect of spending the winter in an unfamiliar place where she knew no one, but that was not the sole cause of this unease gnawing in the pit of her stomach. Though she tried to persuade herself otherwise, she dreaded having to part from her Highlander.
She felt safe with Roderick, and no one had made her feel safe in a long time.
The beauty of the Scottish landscape had been lost on her when she was wandering alone, lost and hungry. But now, as she looked at the lush green hills surrounding them, with their streams and endless tiny waterfalls, it seemed to her that each valley they rode through was more beautiful than the last.
“This rain won’t last long,” Roderick said when a cold drizzle began to fall. “But we can’t have ye freezing to death, now can we?”
He wrapped his plaid around them both and pulled her close. With a small sigh, she leaned back and let herself enjoy this small respite before she was on her own again. She watched the countryside drift by, wrapped in his warmth, as they rode down the rain-sodden trail between ever-taller hills.
Roderick was the sort of man, rare in her world, who would make any woman feel safe. With his ruggedly handsome face and tall, lean, muscular body, he would have no shortage of women eager to share his bed.
But was there one he loved? Not that it mattered. She would never see him again after he left her in Ayr on the morrow.
“You asked if I have a husband,” she said. “I suppose you have a wife and a babe or two waiting at home?”
“Nay.”
For no good reason, Lily was pleased by his answer. But his sharp tone also piqued her curiosity.
“Did ye have a wife once?” she asked, taking a guess.
“’Tis too long a tale,” he said in a tone meant to close the subject.
Of course, she was dying to hear it now. Listening to how he had broken some poor woman’s heart would remind her that he was like other men. Most likely, he had thrown out his wife for some imagined infraction or because he tired of her.
“I prefer a long tale,” she said, turning on the horse so she could see his face.
“Ye can’t always have what ye want,” he said. “And sit still. You’re bothering the horse.”
“I’ll be satisfied with the short version,” she said.
When he was quiet for a long time, she feared she had ruined the easy rapport that had grown between them. She was about to apologize when he finally spoke.
“I did have a wife,” he said. “She left me.”
What woman would leave him? The only reason Lily could conceive of was that he had been unfaithful. That was the usual cause.
“Why did she leave?” Lily knew she should leave it alone, but she could not seem to help herself.
“I was gone a long time,” he said. “She tired of waiting for me.”
“Where were you?” she asked, and wondered if he’d been off drinking and whoring.
“I was held captive in a Lowlander’s dungeon.”
“Your wife deserted you while you were imprisoned?” She was so outraged she could hardly get the words out.
“They had me chained to the wall in the hole, so it was some time before I was able to escape,” he said, as though he blamed himself. “I was gone all winter.”
“You’re better off without her.” Lily turned in the saddle again and rested her hand on his arm. “But, Roderick, are you not still bound to this woman?”
“Under Highland custom, either husband or wife may quit the marriage at the end of one year,” he said. “I can have no complaint against the lass. And I don’t.”
He said the last words with force, but Lily did not believe him. His wife’s departure had troubled him greatly. He must have loved her.
Did he love her still? The woman was worthless, but as a healer, Lily knew well that neither love nor desire was guided by reason.
