Page 11 of The Highlander's Twisted Deal
On cue, as if her prayers had been answered, a relieved whisper drifted through the marching men.
Marin, who was walking beside the cart and was already taller than Ava, craned his neck to see. “We’re approaching the Keep,” he said, excitement simmering in his voice, and Ava smiled fondly at him.
Marin hadn’t been issued a request like she had. All he would have to do is present himself to be trained as a McAdair warrior.
Sure enough, the path weaved out of the thick forest that spanned the miles between McAdair land and MacCarthy land, and Ava spotted the Keep at once.
It was a square, blocky shape, huge, of course, but less ornate than other keeps she’d seen. A deep moat ran around the Keep with a huge drawbridge that was lowered. She wondered if they’d kept the drawbridge open for the return of their Laird. Probably.
They crossed the open plain, and before she knew it, they were heading into the depths of the Keep. Sure enough, Ava heard the screeching and clanking of the drawbridge being raised behind them, and she suppressed a shiver. Ahead of her, she saw a flock of steward-looking people hurrying out to greet their Laird, with a severe-faced woman leading the way.
Laird McAdair bent his head, talking seriously with the woman, then jerked his head in Ava’s direction. The woman listened, blank-faced, then gave a low bow and hurried towards Ava.
A pang of fear raced through Ava.
The woman approached the cart where Ava was still sitting and ventured a tight-lipped smile. She was tall and thin, wearing an old-fashioned cap that covered her head and neck and did not let a single hair escape. She was in her forties if Ava had to guess.
“Ye must be Ava,” she said, clearly trying to sound reassuring. “I dare say a good bath and some hot food sounds good to ye now, aye?”
“Aye,” Ava responded, flashing back a toothy smile. “Have ye herbs for the bath?”
“Herbs?” the woman echoed, frowning. “What do ye want herbs for?”
“Oh, for cleansing. May I take a look in yer pantry before I bathe? If ye wouldn’t mind.”
The woman pursed her lips, obviously not wanting to agree. She glanced over her shoulder at the broad figure of Laird McAdair, now disappearing into the Keep, then sighed. “Very well, then.”
Ava beamed. “Excellent.”
* * *
The bath was indeed delightful. The copper tub was deep, filled almost to the brim, and the water was at a delicious temperature. Ava closed her eyes, resting her head back against the side of the bath. She’d scattered some lavender into the bathwater to reassure the woman—whose name was Sara—but the lavender was not what she’d raided the pantry for.
For an awful moment, Ava had thought that the wretched Keep kitchens didn’t have any. Then, she’d found it—a twist of paper in the herb cupboards, smelling of honey and mint.
Pillowfriend.
She had no idea what it was really called, but in her mind, Ava called the odd, white-flowered little plantpillowfriend.
She lifted one leg out of the water, pleased to note that the grayish rings around her ankles had been washed away.
“I’m ready to see the Laird now, I think,” she muttered.
* * *
Sara led Ava down long, twisting hallways, walking briskly ahead.
Does everyone in Clan McAdair walk so fast?
Ava breathed heavily. She’d be out of breath by the time they got there.
She’d expected to be led to a huge, grand room with soldiers and servants outside and a few close warriors lurking inside. A door leading off into a boudoir, perhaps, with all of the Laird’s attendants listening outside.
To her surprise, Sara stopped in front of a low, nondescript door and knocked smartly on the wood.
“Come in,” responded a deep, familiar voice.
Goosebumps broke out all over Ava’s skin, much to her horror.
