Page 49 of Captured By the Highland Devil
Ruben listened in on the conversation and when the women left, he inclined his head, “Ye handled that well. T’was prudent of ye to think to ask the housekeeper as I ken ye’re nae all that familiar with the runnin' of the castle yet.”
“I thought it was best to be cautious,” she said as they stepped around a juggler tossing daggers.
“Ruben!” She grabbed at him. “Look at that.”
She was entranced at the sight of an acrobat upon a pole, his body upside down while balancing with one hand. Her breath held tight as he leaped from it and landed on both feet with bended knees.
“They are from the East, lass,” he said. “Their people have some truly unusual skills.”
“I can see that,” she said as they wandered though some stalls.
The woman from the east were selling exotic wares, porcelain dolls, cup and silks from China, and precious stones from the Far East. Paige had never seen such beautiful wares.
She reached to touch a length of purple cloth, it slipped through her fingers like water. She had never touched something so delightful.
“Ye like, lady?” the seller asked.
“Very much.” Paige replied.
She felt Ruben’s looking over her shoulder, “What do ye want it for?”
“It would be a lovely shawl,” she said. “T’is so soft.”
When the lady told her the price, she belatedly realized she had no coin with her. “I daenae think?—”
The unsettling feeling from before rippled over her skin again. God above—what was that?
“Nay,” Ruben said, taking her pause as reluctance, she assumed. He then slid the gold coins over the stall’s small ledge. “She’ll take it.”
As the lady cut a length, she turned to spy a man carefully put a torch aflame in his mouth, seeming to eat it. She watched another swallow a sword and a tightrope walker carefully walking on a thin piece of rope and a pole for balance.
“Such abilities…” she marveled.
“Me laird,” William leaned in. “It looks like Morigha is comin’ to ye.”
Hearing him, Paige asked, “Who is that?”
“The local seer,” Ruben said, nodding to a wizened figure walking with a cane.
Her face was marred with wrinkles, her hair grey, and her eyes were so pale Paige feared she was blind. Her cloak was grey like the morning mist. “Some of the men in the village call her an oracle. The ones in the church say she is a witch. However ye take it, all agree she has the sight.”
“Has she ever given ye a prediction?” she asked.
“Nay, but she told me faither that she’d once foreseen how he’d meet me maither,” Ruben nodded. “And she was right.”
“What did she say t?—"
“What can I do for ye, Morigha?” he asked as the woman came to stand by them.
“Nae ye, me laird,” her voice was crackling as she turned her gaze on Paige. “I have a word for yer wife. I’ve been watchin’ ye from the moment ye arrived and I cannae hold back any longer.”
Ruben’s eyes flitted between her and the seer, “Well, speak yer mind.”
“Nae here,” Morigha said. “Come with me, me lady.”
Instinctively, she looked to Ruben, he would know if it was best to as she asked. Indulgently, he nodded but then turned to Williams. “Stand outside the tents. I daenae want to leave anythin’ to chance.”
As Paige followed the lady and William a step behind her, she was led to a tent. She parted the low curtain and startled a little when she jolted a windchime.
