Page 65 of The Highlander's Virgin Widow
Lesley continued to rifle through the top shelf of the cupboard.
“The Laird’s family wants me to have breakfast with them,” Keira blurted.
Lesley stopped for the better half of a second and then continued to rummage through a small section in the cupboard, pulling out vials and roots, her eyes peeled for something in particular.
“And what did ye tell them?”
“That I shall have lunch with them instead.”
Lesley nodded. “Do they ken that ye’re leaving this castle soon? That Laird Kincaid had taken over?”
“Aye. I am certain they’re very aware that their Laird took the castle.”
“Ye think it’s false politeness?” Lesley asked, a sigh of relief escaping her lips.
She reached into the space she had been looking through and pulled out what looked like the bark of a tree Keira could not be bothered to recognize, especially at this moment.
“That is precisely what I intend to find out during lunch.”
“And how are ye going to do that, with the headache ye have?”
“Ye’re the healer, are ye nae? Ye tell me,” Keira responded.
Lesley reached for a small mortar and dropped the bark into it. Then, she reached for a cup of water on the other end of her working table and poured a splash into it.
“Willow bark,” she explained, noticing Keira’s curious gaze on her and the pestle. She began to ground, all while explaining without breaking her rhythm. “It should soothe the ache ye say ye have in yer head.”
“Will it get me through lunch with the Kincaids?”
Lesley looked up at her. “That depends on ye, Keira.”
A mild frown creased Keira’s brow. “On me? How?”
“Look…” Lesley continued, her hands moving in a swiveling motion. Keira’s eyes followed the motions as if entranced. “I ken that ye have an ache in yer head. I also ken that willow bark will work if ye let it.”
“If I let it?” Keira asked, a flicker of surprise crossing her face.
“I believe I may ken a reason or even three for yer headache.”
“Lesley, I dinnae understand what ye—” Keira started, then she froze, the realization hitting her almost as immediately as the smell of the root her friend was grinding did.
“Ye think the Laird is causing me headache?”
“Ye had tapestries put up yesterday, Keira. It doesnae take a scholar to ken the cause of yer headache. If anything, I am quite surprised it didnae occur to ye more quickly.”
Keira rubbed her forehead. “Ye cannae understand.”
“What else is there to understand? He had swooped in from out of nowhere, taken yer home right from under ye, and had confronted ye so many times that ye felt the need to put up borders around the castle. He even confronted ye in the apothecary the other day.”
Keira swallowed, the tangy smell of the willow bark managing to twist the memories she had of the other day with Evander in the apothecary. When she had kissed him for the second time. Or was it he who had kissed her? The memories, no matter how hard she tried to hold on to them, were unfortunately beginning to blur into each other.
It didn’t even matter anymore.
“If ye want to take care of yerself, I reckon ye need to get completely over the Laird. Ignore him completely and dinnae allow for any reason to be in a room with him. Ye’re under quite a lot of stress, and ‘tis what I believe is causing yer headache.”
“’Tis more complicated than that,” she mumbled.
She couldn’t tell Lesley any of the things that had happened since then. Not about the night she had with Evander, the way hehad worshipped her with his fingers and mouth. The way he had almost made her see the heavens with his tongue.
