Page 25 of Taken by the Devilish Highlander (Taken by Highland Devils #7)

“ I thought we were making progress.”

Feya and Ayla rode toward the village, their horses walking slowly beneath them. Feya had offered to join Ayla on her rounds, eager to get some fresh air and have a change of scenery.

“Just when ye think ye’re making progress, the body pushes back against the treatment. It’s normal, Feya. Especially with someone as stubborn as me brother.”

“I ken,” she said with a sigh. “But I was finally feeling some hope. I daenae want to leave without making good on me promise.”

“Ooh if that’s true, then I hope me brother never recovers,” Ayla said, but she quickly qualified it. “Of course, I daenae mean that, but I can’t imagine ye leaving. Things will be so boring around here.”

Feya was quiet, but ever since Archer set the date when they would head back to McKenzie lands, she had been all too aware of the impending departure. Each time she rode with Ayla to the village, she wondered if this would be the last time. Each meal with Archer could be her last.

“But I ken ye want to get back to your family,” Ayla said. She had taken Feya’s silence as hesitation, perhaps believing Feya didn’t want to hurt her feelings by expressing a desire to go home. In reality, Feya was quiet because she still couldn’t figure out how she felt about leaving.

“Aye, it will be good to see them,” Feya agreed. She and Archer hadn’t told Ayla the truth about who exactly Feya’s family was. They had simply told her and anyone else who asked that Feya’s village was on the way to McKenzie Castle, making this trip the perfect excuse to bring Feya back home.

“My Lady.”

A tall blonde woman with a kerchief on her head beamed at Ayla and Feya as they entered the village. They dismounted to greet the woman, Kay, who always had a new pastry or slice of bread for the women to try.

“Do ye like goat cheese?” she asked, and both women nodded in their eagerness, heading toward Kay’s open door.

As Feya walked, she caught sight of someone standing on the edge of the path. He was dressed in dark clothing with a hat pulled low over his face so Feya couldn’t make out his features. A black stallion stood nearby, sniffing the ground in search of grass.

“Ayla,” she whispered, putting a hand on her friend’s arm. “Do ye ken who that is?”

“Nay,” she said, peering in the direction of the man. “Probably one of me brother’s men who hasn’t learned to be discreet. Ye ken he likes to keep an eye on me.”

She shrugged and followed Kay into the house, clearly unconcerned. But there was something about the man’s stare that unsettled Feya. Her whole time at Dougal Castle had felt safe, with no threat of danger from the events of her past. But how long could that safety last?

She gave a final glance in the man’s direction and walked into Kay’s house, letting the smell of freshly baked bread comfort her.

The topic of Archer came up again when Feya and Ayla had finished their village visits.

They were headed back toward the castle, pleased to know most of the villagers were healthy.

These visits to the grateful families and cheerful children always lifted Feya’s spirits, something she appreciated right now when she was struggling with such conflicting emotions about going home.

“Ye have to keep at him,” Ayla said. “He’ll try to push ye away, but I daenae think that’s what he wants.”

“Anytime I bring him something to try, he sends me away. Or his man is there to tell me it isnae a good time.”

“Let me guess—Elijah?”

Feya nodded, intrigued by the annoyance she heard in Ayla’s voice.

“That man thinks he’s me brother’s keeper. Though I suppose I should be grateful he’s trying to protect him.”

“His brother was killed, is that right?”

“Aye. Malcolm and Archer were best friends. I think he gave Elijah the position as man-at-arms because he felt guilty. He came back from the war when Malcolm dinnae.”

“I think Archer feels guilty about a lot of things,” Feya agreed. “But ye cannae run a country based on guilt.”

“As I’ve told him,” Ayla said. “But of course he willnae listen to me. Ye should say it, though. Maybe ye can knock some sense into the man.”

“Me?” Feya laughed.

“Aye. I can tell he trusts ye. Besides, ye arenae here much longer. What do ye have to lose?”

The words echoed in Feya’s head all the way back to the castle.

It was true—she was running out of time with Archer.

She shouldn’t spend it letting him avoid her and send her away.

As she and Ayla walked their horses into the stables, she felt a new surge of energy.

Archer might be avoiding her, but Feya wasn’t ready to give up.

She said a quick goodbye to Ayla, who wished her luck with a smile of amusement.

As Feya strode toward the castle, she saw a flash of black from the corner of her eye, making her jump.

There, under cover of the trees, was the man dressed in black.

He turned away immediately and crossed toward the barn, avoiding Feya’s gaze.

It’s just one of Archer’s men.

She told herself this over and over again, repeating what Ayla had told her. And by the time she reached the castle entrance, she had managed to convince herself it was true.

Feya went to the healing chamber to find the latest mixture she wanted Archer to try. She had attempted to bring it to him this morning, but he had quickly left his study, telling her he had an urgent council meeting to attend.

Lately, Archer had struggled to meet her eyes and he had not allowed a single moment for the two of them to be alone together.

Dinners were cold and formal affairs, with Ayla and Feya chatting about what Holly was growing in the garden or making plans for the morning.

It was a far cry from the open, relaxed man Feya had seen in the woods on the day of the wood chopping.

“Hello, miss.” A servant nodded to her as Feya passed, and she did the same, but the woman’s gaze seemed to linger a bit too long. Feya even looked back over her shoulder, feeling like the woman was watching her after she passed.

Are people staring at me?

It was a question she had asked herself a lot lately.

Kitchen maids seemed to whisper when she passed them.

Stable hands looked away from her glance a bit too quickly, as if they didn’t want to be caught staring.

Feya had brushed this off as her own imagination, but the dark figure staring at her in the village was making her wonder if something else was afoot.

She grabbed the vial of medicine from an empty healing chamber and took the back staircase toward Archer’s study. He had been locked inside of it often these days, so it was a good bet she would find him there.

A flash of black drew her eye and she saw a figure disappear around a corner just down the hallway from her. Feya stopped walking, feeling her heartbeat increase.

It’s just your imagination.

She took a breath and then a tentative step forward.

Fear transformed into anger as she became more and more certain that the figure she had just seen ahead of her was the same man in black who had been trailing her all day.

Feya rushed forward with purpose, ready to catch up with him, and then she took off at a run.

The liquid in the vial splashed against the sides, and she pressed her thumb to the cork to keep the medicine safe.

“Hey,” she called as she turned the corner. She saw the man at the other end, his hat still hiding his face. But as soon as he heard Feya’s voice, he turned around. Feya saw his short, stocky frame and the blonde hair beneath his hat.

Elijah Adamson.

“Is everything alright?” Elijah asked. He walked toward her with concern. “Do ye need something?”

“Why are ye following me?” Feya asked, but as soon as she spoke the words, she felt ridiculous. This was Archer’s man-at-arms. Of course, he wasn’t spying on her. Or if he was, he was doing it at Archer’s bidding, simply to keep Ayla and Feya safe.

“Following ye?” He asked. But Feya had come too far to back off now.

“I saw ye in the village. And again, at the stables.”

He regarded her for a moment, his mouth a firm line across his face, but then he nodded.

“Aye,” he said. “I’m keeping an eye. But I meant no harm by it.”

“Did Archer tell ye to?” She asked. The thought made her angry. Why would Archer do everything he could to avoid her while simultaneously ensuring her safety? It was all too frustrating, resulting in a complex mix of emotions.

“Nay,” he said with a shake of his head. “I did it on me own. I dinnae want these rumors to make anyone do something rash. I should have told ye, lass.”

“Rumors?”

Feya didn’t know what Elijah was talking about. What rumors were going around? Were they about her?

“He didn’t tell ye?”

Feya shook her head, feeling like someone was playing a joke on her but she didn’t understand it. She waited for Elijah to elaborate.

“There are people,” he started. “Who think ye may be…bewitching him.”

“Witchcraft?” she said, instantly outraged. It was the oldest accusation in the book for healers, one Feya had dealt with back in her earliest days of healing. She hadn’t thought the people of Dougal Castle would fall prey to such ridiculous notions.

“Some think so, yes,” he nodded. “They think all the potions and medicines are a way to influence him. Or to keep him in line in some way. And there are those who are angry about it.”

“ I’m angry about it,” Feya cried. “What an outdated way of thinking. Is this why he’s avoiding me? Is this why he won’t be in the same room as me?”

Elijah opened his hands, a gesture of uncertainty.

“Perhaps,” he said evenly. “And perhaps he is right to. It isnae good for the clan to think their Laird can be influenced by a woman. He would be wise to keep his distance.”