Page 8 of Taken by the Devilish Highlander (Taken by Highland Devils #7)

“ G ood morning,” Holly smiled, beaming at Feya as she entered the healing chamber. It was still early in the morning, but sunlight was already streaming through the tall windows, bringing warmth to the room. Feya smelled lavender as she entered, the familiar scent reminding her of home.

“I dinnae think anyone would be up,” Feya said. She felt more relaxed this morning, hopeful with the dawn of the new day. After a good cry last night, she had given herself a good talking to. She knew she was a talented healer, and she wasn’t about to give up on a cure for Archer after one try.

“That dress suits ye,” Holly said, taking in the blue and grey plaid of her skirt, the white shirt, and fitted blue jacket. “Much nicer than yesterday’s.”

Feya smirked at the woman’s honesty.

“Aye,” she nodded. “The innkeeper’s dress wasnae too flattering. This one magically showed up in me room this morning.”

Holly nodded. The whole time she spoke, her hands continued to work. She was mixing something at her large wooden table even as a pot boiled over the fire in the hearth.

“Ayla’s doing, I reckon,” she murmured, and Feya felt touched that Archer’s sister would think of her in that way. Maybe she didn’t hate Feya as much as it seemed she did.

“I met her yesterday,” Feya said. She crossed to the table, curious to see what Holly was doing. “Though it wasnae ideal circumstances. She fought with her brother. It seems they have differing opinions about whether she should be a healer.”

Feya knew it was risky to discuss Archer arguing with his sister.

She was in a new castle with people she didn’t know—it could be unwise to speak ill of their Laird.

But Feya could already tell that Holly wasn’t a woman who put much stock in ceremony and rules.

She said things as she saw them, which was refreshing for Feya since she wasn’t yet used to castle politics.

“Those two can be a pair of bickering cats. But it comes from love—they’re both tryin’ to protect the other. Too bad they willnae just say it.”

“Their faither,” Feya said, broaching the subject careful. “He died in battle?”

“Aye,” she nodded solemnly. “It was a difficult few years for the clan. We were in war for many years. Many took it as a sign of failure when Laird Dougal the elder was killed. The clan gave up hope. But Archer wouldnae allow his faither’s memory to end like that. He was set on revenge, and he got it.”

“But at what cost?” Feya muttered, thinking of Archer’s nightmares and the flashes of horror that visited him during the day.

Holly regarded her carefully, but she didn’t respond. Feya hadn’t meant for the woman to hear her, but it appeared that though other parts of Holly’s body were failing with age, her ears weren’t one of them.

“When did the nightmares start?” she asked.

“They were gradual. Hard to say when somethin’ like that moves from the natural to the unnatural. Everyone has nightmares. But when they become constant, when they start seeping into the waking world…that’s when the trouble starts.”

The sound of the door opening startled Feya, and she spun around to see Ayla striding through the door. Once again, Feya was struck by her easy confidence.

“It looks good on ye,” she nodded, looking Feya up and down. “I kenned it would.”

“Good morning, Ayla,” Holly smiled, and Ayla walked right up to embrace the woman with a warm kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning, Feya,” Ayla said, turning to her. Feya uttered a good morning, pleased to see Ayla showing some warmth towards her.

“Are ye here for a lesson?” Holly asked. “I’m making tonics for cough. Some of the children in the village have caught a summer cold, and I want to catch it before it reaches their lungs.”

“Actually, I came for Feya.”

Feya blinked at her, surprised to hear her name.

“Perhaps I could show ye the healing garden? Where we grow all the herbs and plants Holly needs to care for the village.”

“I would love that,” Feya said honestly.

It was always a joy to see what other healers used and what they kept stocked in their gardens.

Ayla gave a nod, not giving away her feelings, and then turned toward the back of the room where a pair of French doors led out to the garden.

Feya hesitated, but Holly tipped her head in the direction of the doors.

“Well, get going.”

Feya jumped into action and ran toward Ayla. The sun on her face and arms felt wonderful as she jogged to her spot behind Archer’s sister.

“Holly’s done a wonderful job out here,” Ayla said, not looking back. “Can you believe she won’t allow the castle gardeners to touch it?”

Feya cast her eyes around the ample space, twisted with pathways and surrounded by large hedges. The space was massive, far too large for a woman in her seventies to be managing by herself.

“How is that possible?” Feya asked. “It must take her hours.”

“Why do you think she’s up so early? Especially this time of year, when it’s getting hotter, she gets up with the sun so she can take care of it before it’s too hot.”

“And someday you’ll care for it,” Feya said, remembering Ayla’s wish to be a healer. She asked it tentatively, almost like a question, opening the door on the argument Feya had found herself in the middle of yesterday. Ayla sighed.

“I’d like to,” she admitted. “But my brother seems to have his own plans.” Ayla spun around, finally looking at Feya for the first time since they walked to the garden. “Did he say anything about me? After I left yesterday?”

“Nay,” Feya said truthfully. Archer hadn’t spoken one way or the other about the fight, except to apologize to Feya for the bickering. She saw relief flash across Ayla’s face, and then she stepped forward, suddenly close to Feya, talking like they were friends.

“I only want to help him,” she insisted. “He thinks he can heal himself of these haunted thoughts, but anyone can see they’re getting worse. If I can learn more about healing…if I can understand more about his mind…”

She trailed off, but Feya didn’t need the rest of the sentence to understand what Ayla was desperate for. She wanted her brother well again. She didn’t want to see him suffer.

“Archer wants me to marry,” she continued. “He wants me to focus on me own life. But if I get married, who will be here to look after him? I’m the only family he has left.”

“Then we must heal him,” Feya said, giving Ayla an encouraging smile. “It’s what I aim to do. Why he has brought me back here. I plan to do everythin’ in me power to help him. And then I’m going home.”

She saw this was new information for Ayla. She looked at Feya with surprise before continuing her stroll down the path, letting her fingers brush lightly against flower petals and leaves.

“Ye arenae staying them?”

“Nay. I have a family of me own I must get back to. I have agreed to help your brother with these visions. But as soon as that is done, I will go home.”

A flash of her sister’s face brought a lump to Feya’s throat, but she swallowed it down.

She told herself she needed to be brave.

Besides, there was no point in going home without Archer’s protection.

She had seen what lengths Cohen would go to to keep her silent, and she knew he would send more the second he realized Feya was still alive.

Suddenly, Ayla grabbed Feya’s hand and squeezed. She caught the tall woman’s eye, noting how similar she looked to Archer, though her features were softened, far more beautiful.

“Thank ye for trying,” Ayla said, and Feya heard the hint of tears in her voice. “I ken he can be a stubborn man, but he has a good heart.”

“Aye,” Feya nodded. She imagined Archer swinging his sword to fight off Cohen’s men. She remembered the way he had pushed her behind his back when she first stumbled upon him in the words. “I ken.”

Ayla dropped Feya’s hand, and they walked comfortably together, both feeling like they had reached an understanding with one another. Feya could sense a sadness in Ayla, likely brought on by the constant worry she seemed to carry for her brother.

“Ye ken,” Feya said as the sharp scent of rosemary hit her nose. “The best healers learn from many teachers. Ye must understand things from many sources and then choose your own path. I daenae have the age that Holly has, but I have learned from many masters. It may help ye?”

“Oh yes,” Ayla cried, perking up immediately. “I would love that.”

“Good,” Feya smiled. “And in return, perhaps ye can tell me more about your brother? I daenae ken him well, but I can tell he doesnae like to talk about himself. Ye might give me some insights that can help me cure him.”

“Aye,” Ayla smiled, a spark in her eye. “It’s a deal. I can tell ye many stories.”