Page 49 of Trapped By the Wicked Highlander
"Aye, I shall return," Heather said.
A few moments later Heather returned with more water.
“Ye work fast, Heather. Thank ye,” Cassandra said as she reached for a mortar and pestle.
“Aye, well, I ken ye wouldnae ask for help unless it was important,” Heather replied, peering curiously at the array of herbs laid out before them. “What else do ye need me to do?”
“First, I should tell ye that the healer, Richard, is on the mend,” Cassandra said as she began grinding dried willow bark into a fine powder.
Heather’s face brightened at the news. “That’s wonderful! Does that mean ye’ll be goin’ home to McAllister Castle soon?”
Cassandra hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Aye, it does. That’s why I need yer help. I must prepare to teach Richard how to make the tonics that helped the ill. He will need to ken every step, and I cannae do it alone.”
Heather’s expression softened, and she folded her hands in front of her. “I’ll be sad to see ye go, Mistress, but I’d be honored to help ye.”
Cassandra offered her a grateful smile. “Thank ye, Heather. Now, let’s get to work.”
They moved with purpose, Heather fetching fresh sprigs of mint and chamomile while Cassandra prepared a batch of fever-reducing tonic. The process was meticulous, requiring careful measurements and patience as they mixed the ingredients. Heather listened intently as Cassandra explained each step, repeating the instructions aloud to commit them to memory.
“This tonic is one of the most important,” Cassandra said as she poured the liquid into small glass bottles. “It eases fevers and soothes pain. I will teach Richard to ken how to make it properly, or the sick will suffer needlessly.”
Heather nodded as she worked beside her. Cassandra exhaled softly, appreciating the young woman’s dedication. “Good. Now, let’s move on to the next one.”
For a while, they worked in silence, the only sounds being the scraping of pestles against stone and the gentle sloshing of water as they mixed the remedies. Cassandra found solace in the rhythm of their labor, knowing that this work was important—even if it also meant preparing for her own departure. All the while the same thought repeated…
Can I truly leave him?
For two days, Cassandra managed to avoid Hunter, slipping through the castle halls like a ghost. She kept herself locked away in her room or buried in her work, her hands busy with grinding herbs and mixing tonics. Every moment she spent alone was a small mercy, sparing her the agony of seeing whether Hunter had reconciled with Margaret. The thought of them together made her chest tighten, so she focused on what she could control—preparing to leave.
She stood at her worktable, carefully measuring dried yarrow into a bowl when the door creaked open. Turning, she found Richard standing there, his frail form looking stronger than it had in weeks. His cheeks were no longer pale, and his once sunken eyes now held a lively gleam. Cassandra smiled at the sight, pleased to see her efforts had not been in vain.
“Ah, ye have the color back in yer cheeks, Richard,” she remarked, setting down her mortar and wiping her hands on her apron.
“Aye, lass, and it’s all yer doin’,” Richard said, stepping inside. “Ye saved me, and I cannae thank ye enough for it.”
“Daenae thank me yet. We still have work to do before I leave,” Cassandra replied, motioning for him to sit.
Richard settled into a chair with a small grunt, watching as Cassandra gathered bottles and dried herbs. “Then teach me, lass. I’m ready to learn.”
Cassandra nodded. “The most important thing ye must ken is how to cure the illness that plagued the clan. It starts with this tonic here.” She gestured to a dark glass bottle filled with the bitter medicine she had spent days perfecting.
Richard leaned forward, listening intently. “And how do ye make it?”
Cassandra explained, measuring out each ingredient. “Crush them finely, then steep them in hot water before straining it into a bottle. The patient must drink it twice a day until the fever breaks.”
The lesson continued for hours. Every once in a while, Heather stopped in to help, making her an unofficial helper to Richard. Cassandra felt confident that the healer could manage the more she worked with him.
"I've written it all down here on this parchment," Cassandra said.
Richard nodded, absorbing every word. “Aye, I understand. I’ll make certain the clan never suffers like this again.”
Cassandra met his gaze, relief washing over her. “Good. Then me work here will be done.”
Richard smiled and reached out, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. “Ye’ve done more than enough, lass. If ye wish to leave, ken that I will take care of things here.”
Cassandra exhaled softly, the weight of responsibility slowly lifting from her shoulders. “Thank ye, Richard.”
With that, she turned and left the workroom, her heart heavy as she walked back to her chambers. She knew it was time to pack her belongings and return home. But no matter how much she told herself it was the right thing to do, it did nothing to ease the ache in her chest.
