Page 10 of The Highlander’s Enchanted Healer (Spellbound Hearts #2)
Alba bucked in my arms harder when Aria touched her. “Release her,” I demanded, harsher than I had intended, but my fear and worry for Alba had me struggling for my own control.
“I was just trying to help, Laird,” Aria said, releasing Alba and taking a step back. Alba immediately calmed, so I loosened my hold but did not totally release her. Aria had not stepped out of striking range. She was either foolish or fearless.
“Take another step back, please,” I said, trying not to sound so short this time.
She nodded, doing as I’d bidden, and that’s when I noticed her chest rose and fell with her quick shallow breaths.
She was frightened… So, was she foolish or brave?
She raised a hand, trembling slightly, and tucked a dangling strand of red hair behind her ear.
The movement caused me to register the line of her jaw, the smattering of freckles across her high cheekbones and slender nose, and her full lips parted with her breathing.
I frowned at myself. I shouldn’t be noticing such intimate things about this woman at all, but especially now, given Alba was in such a state.
“Alba,” I murmured, my heart aching for her, “This is yer new healer, Aria Leslie. She’s here to help ye, nae hurt ye.”
For a long moment Alba did not respond, and I had nearly decided she was not going to, but finally, she nodded, which felt like a triumph of sorts, and then she started to hum.
The sound rumbled through her and made me smile as it had since she began doing this.
The tune she hummed was the same one our mama had sung to us as babes when we needed soothing.
This gave me hope that her mind was not permanently shattered and that she was possibly trying to heal herself but did not quite have the strength to complete the task.
“Should we move her to the bed?” Aria asked.
“I’ll do it. Ye keep yer distance for now.
” I walked Alba slowly to the bed, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aria cross the room with Alba’s untouched supper tray in hand.
She recrossed the bedchamber and stopped far enough away that Alba could not kick her, and then she glanced down at Aria and me as I sat beside my sister. “She’s nae eaten a thing.”
I waited for Alba to show some reaction, but she sat unmoving and humming. I extended my hand to Aria and took the tray. Then I looked to Alba. “If ye try to attack Aria or injure her as ye did Isla,” I said, making my tone scolding, “I will nae allow Roger to visit for a fortnight.”
Interest flickered in Aria’s eyes, even as Alba’s shoulders slumped, which was the only indication that she’d heard me but one I’d gladly take.
“Who’s Roger?” Aria asked, sitting on my right. I felt that Alba would heed my warning, but I was glad Aria had not sat directly beside her, just in case.
I picked up a hunk of bread, tore off a piece and handed it to Alba as I answered Aria’s question.
“Roger Fergusson is the man Alba was to wed after, well nae—” I gave a shake of my head.
“The history is complicated.” Suddenly Alba’s humming grew very loud, and she squirmed where she sat as if excited about the talk of Roger.
Aria’s fingertips suddenly squeezed my forearm, and when I met her gaze, she mouthed, This is good.
I nodded, and she cleared her throat and said, “Well, I need to ken the history in order to help Alba heal her mind.” The humming grew louder and now sounded almost excited.
I fought my grin in case it somehow discouraged Alba. “Alba was to wed Roger Fergusson before a betrothal was set with Fergus Gordon.”
Aria frowned. “I did nae ken that.”
It seemed a strange thing to say, given there would be no way for her to have known, but I kept the opinion to myself.
Instead, I said, “Well, ye would nae. It was nae common knowledge. The marriage arrangements were made one day, and then a short sennight later, our da had to withdraw Alba from the impending alliance with Roger”
I was carefully watching Alba, so when Aria asked, “What happened?” I saw Alba’s gaze narrow, and her lips draw into a thin hard line.
“The king intervened,” I replied. Alba’s reactions were fascinating and more than I’d seen from her since she’d returned home.
“The king wanted my da and the Gordon Laird to send their warriors to aid him in battle, and because of that, he finally had a vested interest in ending the feud between my clan and the Gordons, so he insisted upon an alliance, sealed by the marriage of my sister to Fergus Gordon, even though it forced my da to break his word to Roger.”
“Nay,” Aria said, shaking her head. Her blunt disagreement had me turning to her. Her face was set in fierce opposition. Frankly, her vehemence on a topic that did not affect her was surprising. “I heard that yer da was the one to present the possible alliance.”
“Well, ye’re wrong, and I should ken the truth better than ye, as it involves my family and nae yers.” She began to cough so hard, I thumped her back.
When she finally stopped, she said, “I beg forgiveness for listening to idle gossip.” She managed somehow to ask for my pardon without sounding like she really wanted it, and for some odd reason, it made me want to laugh.
Instead, I simply nodded. Laughing with a woman who stirred my desire was a step down a dangerous path.
I glanced back to Alba who had eaten almost all the bread, and I frowned at her dirty hands, which reminded me she had shorn Isla’s hair for merely suggesting a bath. “Do ye think ye’ll be able to help Alba?” I asked Aria while keeping my attention on Alba, who stilled with my question.
Beside me, the bed creaked, and Aria stood, then moved directly in front of Alba. “I do nae ken,” she said, answering my question but staring at my sister. “If she’ll allow me to, aye, but she must want to heal, be ready to heal, and be willing to heal.”
Alba started humming once more, and my gaze locked with Aria’s. It seemed to me the humming might be Alba’s way of answering without having to talk, and by the gentle upwards curl of Aria’s mouth, I believed she had drawn the same conclusion.
“Alba,” Aria said in a gentle tone, “I’m going to kneel in front of ye, but I vow upon my mama’s and da’s graves, that I do nae mean ye harm.”
I blinked in shock at the revelation that her parents were passed from this world, as mine and Alba’s were.
Alba’s nostrils flared even as a tears appeared in her green eyes, but she continued to hum the soothing tune of our childhood. I took it as a good sign, so when Aris kneeled, I did nae try to stop her. Alba slowly chewed the bread in her mouth and stared unblinking at Aria.
“When I was a child,” Aria said in that same soothing tone as before, “my mama would scold me for eating with my hands. She would say, ‘Aria, men want wives with proper manners who do nae eat like barbarians, and who have clean hands to caress them.’”
Alba’s gaze flicked down to her hands, and her lips tugged downward ever so slightly. I held my breath as she slowly reached for the knife beside her trencher, speared a piece of meat with it, and brought it to her mouth to take a bite.
I’d nae seen Alba use utensils to eat since the day she had been brought home broken, and the small victory tightened my chest. Aria, for her part, took her first victory in stride, barely acknowledging it, except for the briefest of moments, where her lips curved upward.
She took a deep breath, still looking at Alba, and said, “I suppose we both need to remember that if we want to catch a man,” she teased, then she took a piece of bread off Alba’s platter, ran it through the thick gravy, and brought her hands to her lips, gravy dripping down the sides.
She popped the bread in her mouth, chewed it up, and licked the gravy off her fingers.
And then, to my astonishment, my sister’s lips pulled up into a real smile.
I was speechless as gratitude and hope flooded me, nearly choking me.
When Aria’s gaze came to mine, I mouthed, Thank ye. I did not want to take the chance of embarrassing Alba. Aria nodded in return as I focused once more on Alba. She had made a big step in this short time with Aria. “Alba, would ye like to eat in the great hall with us, lass?”
The humming stopped as Alba continued to eat. I supposed, I was to take that as a no. Aria rose from her knees and shook her head as well, as if to say, give her time .
I stood, and as soon as I did, Alba slid backward toward the headrest and mound of feather pillows.
She settled in the cushions, looking so small and fragile and dirty.
God’s blood, I hoped she’d take a bath soon.
I could not recall the last one she’d had.
I turned to fetch a blanket for her, but Aria was there, extending one to me for Alba.
Her thoughtfulness touched something within me, but it was something I instinctively knew needed to be left alone.
So, I took the blanket with a nod of thanks, covered Alba—who was already closing her eyes—then motioned Aria to follow me out of the bedchamber.
I tried not to look at Aria as we walked down the passageway, but I could not seem to keep my gaze from her, and soon, I was studying her profile.
She had a stubborn jawline, and a long, graceful neck, and her nose turned up ever so slightly at the end.
But it was the way she walked, with her arms wrapped around her midriff as if she were protecting herself, that gave me pause.
She stopped halfway down the corridor, surprising me, and turned to face me. Her long, dark eyelashes drew upward to reveal her intense blue eyes. “Ye’re good with her.”
“Ye sound surprised.”
She nodded. “I suppose I am. Men are nae typically gentle creatures, let alone ruthless lairds who battle other clans regularly.”