Page 17 of The Cruel Highlander's Healer
Laird MacKinnon was not lying to her. No. She felt the truth of it deeply.
Can I do this? Can I take advantage of a man so desperate to help his people?
As soon as the thought flickered through her, her mind conjured up images of previous patients. Ones that she could not help because they couldn’t access the ingredients for a tonic they needed, or they hadn’t been able to pay one of the village healers and had arrived at Eliza and Marissa too late.
No, the Laird could more than afford to pay her. And she would be able to save more people if he did.
“Alright,” she said, chin still held high as she kept her gaze fixed up at him.
Relief at what she’d be able to accomplish with the money. Relief that she wouldn’t have to argue with him about helping the bairns. All of that and more flooded every bit of her.
She sighed. “I already told ye I’d help ye. And I daenae go back on me word.”
The Laird opened his mouth to speak, but Eliza raised her hand. She had half expected the gesture to not work. But when his mouth snapped shut, a smug satisfaction rolled through her.
He truly is a man who will do anythin’ for his clan.
“The poison that’s been used on ‘em,” Eliza explained, “I ken the tonic for it. I’ll need the things to make it. The sooner the better.”
He nodded.
“What do ye need?” he asked. “I can send out a maid in the mornin’ to the apothecary.”
Elza shook her head. “I daenae trust anyone else, and I get me herbs fresh. We’ll have to forage them from the forest.”
The Laird took a moment to consider this, then nodded.
“Aye,” he said. “We’ll get ye whatever ye need.”
There was a pregnant pause, his jaw still working back and forth as he clenched it. Eliza could sense there was more that he wanted to say, was sure there was a question lingering on the tip of his tongue. So she waited, giving him the time he needed to sort through his thoughts.
He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable, and asked, “How long do ye think they have?”
Eliza’s stomach plummeted, knowing that she had to answer him honestly.
“A week,” she said. “Ten days at most. If we daenae get the antidote to them within the next couple of days, though, I fear some of the damage might be too much to return from.”
The words hung in the air between them. Whatever Laird MacKinnon thought of the revelation, though, he didn’t let it show. Outside of his clenching jaw, nothing in his expression changed.
“Then we’ll have to get started at first light,” he said after a brief pause.
“First light,” she repeated, eyes still fixed on the Laird’s face.
He didn’t move, and neither did she. He’d backed away a few paces from her, but it had done nothing to quelch the heat building inside of her.
Eliza’s lips parted, a breath panting between them as she stared up at him. She could not tell if she wanted to reach up and touch him, or if she wanted to spin on her heel and run out the door.
A smirk ticked up the corner of the Laird’s mouth, but he said nothing. He pushed past her, the side of his arm brushing against her shoulder as he moved toward the door.
The Laird disappeared from sight, the sound of his footsteps echoing off the stone corridor until they became too faint to hear. And still, Eliza stood still, staring after him.
With a shaking hand, she reached up and brushed her fingertips across the spot that his arm had just touched. A spot that was tingling, like she could still feel the brief pressure of his skin against hers.
What have I gotten meself into?
CHAPTEREIGHT
Conall turned, staring out at the rolling lawns surrounding MacKinnon Castle. The horizon was only just streaking with gold as the first rays of the morning kissed the sky, and he took a moment to breathe deeply.
