Page 64 of The Highlander's Virgin Widow
“Did ye take a breakfast tray to his room?” she asked.
“Aye. But he wasnae in his room, either,” Stella replied.
Keira absorbed those words as slowly and as carefully as she could. She turned back to the water and stepped into it.
“A stable boy said that he had left with a horse at first light,” Stella continued.
Keira lowered herself into the tub, the water slowly covering her body right up to her neck. She splashed a handful across her face, the coldness a pleasant distraction from the tumultuous thoughts racing through her head.
“And he didnae say where he was going?” she asked, wiping the excess water off her face.
“Nay.” Stella shook her head.
It lingered in the back of her head, the throbbing, dull headache she had thought she could avoid. Now that she couldn’t help but wonder where he could’ve possibly gone, the headache throbbed harder.
She splashed another handful of water across her face. He would return—he always did. And before then, she needed to prepare for him, for what she would say and how she would react to his words. It was evident to her now that he had left to face his feelings in his own way as well. She had to find her own way to deal with it, and she knew for certain that it would involve a visit to the apothecary.
“Tell Lady Kincaid that I shall join her and her son for lunch,” she instructed, wiping her brow.
“Understood, M’Lady. Would ye also like to have yer breakfast in yer room as well?”
“Aye,” she responded, dunking her head in the water.
She heard footsteps, and then the door clicked open and shut. Stella had left, and she was left to her thoughts once again, even if for a little while. She tried her best to ignore the throbbing in her head by occupying herself with other matters, like hernext meeting with Harold, to determine who was responsible for everything that had been happening for quite some time.
But it did not help. If anything, her headache only worsened.
She stepped out of the bath and slipped into the dress Stella had laid out for her. Her maid brought her breakfast only a few minutes later—a spread of bread, cheese, and some venison.
The preparations for the cèilidh were underway, so the kitchens had been very busy since the previous day. She remembered overhearing Evander saying that he intended to make it as extravagant as possible, and that meant more of his people would arrive from several parts of the village.
More unknown faces around the castle, more reasons for her to find a husband as soon as possible and leave while she still had her dignity intact.
Lesley rose from her chair and headed to the cupboard. Keira, on the other hand, relaxed into her chair, letting the smell of herbs and roots in the apothecary transport her to places unknown.
While her headache had not fully abated, she felt immensely better for some reason now that she was here, with her friend.
“When did the headache start?” Lesley asked, still rifling through the vials and poultices in the cupboard.
Keira threw her head back as if to think. Certainly, she had felt the headache this morning, but what if it had started the day before?
“Ye dinnae ken when it started?” Lesley asked, turning around to her.
“I am trying to think about it.”
“Ye’re trying to think about when the pain in yer head started?”
“Do ye want to cure me or judge me?” Keira huffed, narrowing her eyes at her friend.
She couldn’t raise her voice more than that, and she was certain her friend could tell.
“I would never judge ye, Lady Blythe.”
“Are ye enjoying yerself?” Keira asked, leveling a scowl at her friend, who had the most amused expression on her face.
Lesley laughed. “Quite incredibly if I do say so meself.”
“It is nice to ken that at least one of us can find the humor in this.”
