Page 28 of The Cruel Highlander’s Healer (Highlanders’ Feisty Brides #1)

CHAPTER ONE

H olly Taylor was in a good mood. The sun was shining brightly, and she’d had a delightful day in town. While shopping wasn’t something she usually appreciated, she had enjoyed it that day. She was to be married soon!

“Holly and I shall be wed in just a sennight.”

She stopped walking and looked around. She’d been on her way home and had taken the back way out of town. Now, she stood at a corner of the entrance of an alley.

That voice… She’d know that slightly nasal voice anywhere. It belonged to her betrothed. And he was talking about her.

Curious, Holly pressed herself up against the brick wall and leaned her cheek against it, trying to remain invisible but still able to hear. Here was her chance to discover what Felix told others about her. A smile spread across her face at the thought of praises and declarations of his feelings for her.

“And how long after that before ye and I can be together?”

Holly frowned. Although she could barely hear the other speaker, that was a woman’s voice.

She wants to be with Felix? Me Felix?

“Everythin’ is going as planned, but I have to be careful,” Felix said, his voice pleading. “We cannae afford for her to become suspicious.”

“Tell me again what ye’re plannin’.”

Holly scowled at the woman’s simpering tone. She could imagine the lady running her hands up Felix’s chest, seducing him. She narrowed her eyes and resisted the urge to look around the corner.

“I’ll wait until a few days after Holly and I are wed, then I’ll start puttin’ the poison in her tea. I’ll make sure nae to put too much at once, so it will look like she died suddenly from some unknown malady.”

A pit formed in Holly’s stomach, and she felt it widen as bile rose in her throat.

Felix is plannin ’ to kill me once we ’ re wed?

She couldn’t believe it, yet here she was, hearing him brag about her demise with her own ears.

“And then what, me darlin’?” the woman simpered.

There was a rustling noise, as if Felix took the woman in his arms and her skirts brushed against his legs.

“And then I will get her inheritance, and ye and I will go off together and never have to worry about money again.”

Holly clenched her fists and took one angry step forward, intent on confronting the scoundrel, but someone went into the alley at that minute and told Felix to get back to work.

Holly flattened herself against the wall and tried to slow her breathing. It was a good thing the man had come out and interrupted her before she could make such a dangerous mistake. If she had confronted Felix and his lover right then, she would have done so out of anger, and that would have only made things worse. Then, they would know that she’d discovered their plans, and they might have killed her right there.

No, she had to think about what she was going to do.

Hiking up her skirts, she peered around the corner and let out a relieved sigh when she found no one there, then took off running, her boots squishing in the mud.

At home, she went to her room and plopped down on her bed. Immediately, Ollie, sensing his mistress’s upset, jumped up on the bed. Holly absently ran her hand through the cat’s long, gray fur as she considered her predicament.

“Whatever shall I do, Ollie?”

The British longhair tabby meowed, but his answer was of no use to Holly.

“I cannae confront him.” She talked absentmindedly to Ollie while stroking his soft fur. “And I cannae break off the engagement. If I did that, he’d likely become suspicious and lock me up until the wedding, then force me to take me vows somehow.”

Holly stood up and smoothed her skirts as she paced her bedchamber. “I could run and hide, but where would I go? It would only be a short-term fix, though. Eventually, I’d have to come home. Or Felix would track me down.”

She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Och, Ollie, this is drivin’ me mad! I need some fresh air to clear me head. At least I ken I’m safe until after the weddin’.”

She plucked a dark blue cloak off the chair by the hearth and left her home. It was a long walk back to town, but it helped to calm her nerves and allowed her to think a little clearer. By the time she reached town, her stomach was rumbling. When was the last time she had eaten?

Holly slowed her pace as she reached town. All the work she’d done to calm her nerves evaporated like water on a hot rock. Was Felix here? Her gaze searched both sides of the street and inside every store window she could see.

Was that him?

A man in a modest brown suit came out of the apothecary’s carrying a small bag—presumably his purchases. Was that Felix buying the poison to kill her?

Holly shuddered, then relaxed slightly when the man turned and she saw his full beard. Felix did not have a beard. Still, the thought that it had been him had frightened her. Her breathing was still a bit fast, and she even felt a little dizzy.

She ducked into the next door she came across, then stopped once inside. A tavern? It was not a place she had visited before, but she had always wondered what it was like inside. She turned and reached for the door, but the thought of running into Felix stopped her from opening it.

Why had I thought coming into town would be a good idea?

Her stomach rumbled again, louder this time, since the smell of roast meat reached her nose. Her stomach overruled her good sense, and she slowly walked further into the establishment. She ignored the blatant stares aimed her way and found a small table in the corner, away from everyone else. She’d barely sat down when a woman with blonde hair pulled back into a long braid rushed over to her.

“Me Lady, what brings ye to this fine establishment?”

Holly blushed slightly. The woman’s voice was loud. Loud enough to carry across the room. It seemed as though every eye in there was trained on her, every ear straining to hear her words.

She lifted her chin. “I would like to order somethin’ to eat.”

The blonde woman nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. Our special today is boiled boar, but we also have mutton. Which would ye prefer?”

Holly grimaced at the thought of boiled boar. Roast boar was tasty, but when it was boiled, it just lost all its flavor.

“Mutton, please. And a hot cup of tea if ye have it.”

The woman nodded with a smile. “Me name is Alice, by the way.”

“I am Holly?—”

“Aye, I ken who ye are,” Alice interrupted. Her easy smile dropped, and a look of sadness clouded her blue eyes. Without being asked, she pulled out the chair across from Holly and sat down. “Me full name is Alice Mitchell.”

She paused and watched Holly knowingly as she slowly stiffened.

“Aye, that Alice Mitchell. Me faither was Peter Mitchell, the man who… well, who wronged ye so long ago.”

“Kidnapped, ye mean.” Holly grimaced.

She hadn’t meant for it to come out so harsh, but she’d spent the last nine years of her life trying not to remember that horrible day.

Alice didn’t seem to take offense at Holly’s tone and nodded sadly. “I ken this must be a shock, and I’m sorry. I recognized ye right away when ye walked in here. I looked for ye for a couple of years. I wanted to apologize. I ken I was still young meself when me faither decided to take ye and sell ye to… well, when he did what he did. But somehow I still felt responsible for simply bein’ related to him. So when ye walked in today, I thought God had answered me prayers, givin’ me a chance to tell ye how truly sorry I am for what happened to ye.”

Holly was speechless. What could she say?

Alice wasn’t responsible for what her father had done. But Holly didn’t want any reminders of that time, either.

Holly nodded. “Thank ye, but ‘tis nae necessary.”

“Ye are too kind,” Alice said with a slight smile. “Well, I will go fetch yer food. Thank ye for listenin’ to me.”

Holly watched Alice walk away, a slight frown pulling at her mouth. She didn’t remember Alice from that time, but then she’d never met her, either. But she heard that Peter Mitchell had a daughter about her age. How horrible it must have been for Alice to find out that her father was kidnapping young girls and selling them to brothels.

How horrible it was that their fathers had killed each other. The two women had little to do with what had happened back then, even though Holly was the one caught up in the middle of it. Peter Mitchell deserved what he got, but none of it was Alice’s fault.

Holly shook her head a little too vigorously in an effort to clear it of those troubling memories. She looked around the tavern, taking in all the sights, since she’d never been inside one before.

It was dark and a little musty, smelling of stale spirits and roast meat. There was also a smell of unwashed bodies that made her nose twitch in distaste. It wasn’t very busy at this hour, thankfully, but there were still several patrons. Most were men, drinking their Scottish whisky and harassing the maids.

There was one table, though, that caught Holly’s attention. Three women sat together, laughing and talking.

Gossiping, Holly figured.

They looked like commoners, with their clean but drab gowns ranging in color from brown to dark brown. None of them seemed the least bit self-conscious or wary, and for a minute, Holly wished she had that kind of confidence. But then one of them caught her attention, and she leaned forward slightly to hear better.

“… the Beastly Laird.”

The Beastly Laird?

Holly frowned.

“Ye call yer Laird that?” one of the ladies asked, her brown eyes wide with surprise.

The redhead who had made the statement nodded. “Everyone does. Nae to his face, of course, but he was given the nickname because of his beastly personality.”

“And he’s lookin’ for a wife, ye say?” the brown-eyed woman asked. “Would anyone marry a man, even a laird, with that kind of name?”

“Laird McAllister is a fine catch. A lass could do much worse,” the redhead argued. “If she can ignore the scar on his left eye, that is.”

The women chuckled, and Holly sat back in her seat just as Alice approached with her meal. Her mind was racing with a bold idea. She quickly ate, then went home and packed a satchel.

When she was finished, she stood on the edge of her bed and regarded Ollie.

“We’re goin’ on a trip, Ollie. I think I’ve figured out a way to save meself from Felix.”

She petted the cat, letting her hand trail from his head to the tip of his fluffy tail.

“What’s that ye say?” She continued the one-sided conversation. “How will this trip help us? Well, the Beastly Laird is lookin’ for a wife, and I am in need of a husband—one who isnae plannin’ on murderin’ me. If I can convince the Laird to wed me, then Felix will have nay reason to kill me, since he willnae be able to get me inheritance anymore.”

She put her packed bag on the floor by the foot of the bed. “‘Tis too late now to travel. We’ll leave first thing in the mornin’.”