Page 13 of The Highlander’s Enchanted Healer (Spellbound Hearts #2)
A half dozen sounds assaulted me as I entered the great hall, but they were at once surprisingly familiar to the ones in the great hall at my home.
Men guffawed and sang bawdy tunes, and women sat about chattering and cupping ears of other women to whisper secrets.
Trenchers and tankards clattered, and the sweet song of a lute swirled softly underneath it all as the smell of fresh bread filled my nose.
Memories of dancing in the great hall with my da came to me.
I could see myself perched on his toes as he taught me to dance, see him swirling me around while I laughed so hard tears streamed down my face.
Da’s hounds would sit under the dais, though Da knew very well Mama hated them in the hall.
I’d feed them scraps, and then later, Ramsey would join me.
I pictured Ramsey and I dancing down the line of clansmen while Fergus made fun of us.
I could never get those times back. My life as I had known it was gone. It would never be the same. Sickness had taken Mama from me, but murdering savages had taken my da. My resolve hardened like steel forged for hours in the ironsmith’s hearth.
As Allan led me toward the high table on the dais.
I saw Laird Campbell’s posture stiffen as we approached, and dread slowed my step.
Did he suspect something about me, or was he drawn to me as his brother claimed, despite not wanting to be?
This close to him, my entire plan felt like it could backfire.
Could I truly pull this off, or would I find myself at the end of Laird Campbell’s sword before the night was through?
“Brother,” Allan called cheerfully as we reached the high table, “I’ve brought Lady Aria to dine with us as ye bade.”
“I told ye to bring her to the great hall for supper,” Laird Campbell replied as his gaze darted from me to his brother.
I did not miss the discomfort that flitted across his face.
He did not want me eating at the dais. By the scowl Allan shot him, he did not miss his brother’s reluctance to dine with me, either.
“We’ve an empty seat with Alba still nae eating with us, and Lady Aria kens only us,” Allan said, then motioned for me to ascend the dais.
I did nae hesitate. I was going to enjoy making Laird Campbell uncomfortable, and I resolutely refused to feel discomfort myself.
The man was handsome, but neither his striking face nor my embarrassment over the blurted compliment had driven thoughts of revenge from my mind.
I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin as I took the few steps to the dais.
There were two empty seats, and I was uncertain which one Allan meant for me to take.
Allan gestured to the seat by Laird Campbell. “Ye can take my seat.”
Laird Campbell scowled at me and shoved his dagger into his meat as if it were alive and he needed to kill it.
I had to bite my cheek not to grin at his wariness. “Thank ye, Allan,” I practically purred.
The subtle tightening of Laird Campbell’s jaw increased my enjoyment of the situation.
Allan winked at me as he took the seat to my left. It struck me to my core in that moment, situated as I was between the Campbell Laird and his brother, that I was in a very dangerous situation. My stomach tightened in worry.
Allan patted his brother’s shoulder. “Be kind to Aria, Ross.”
As I sat, I reached a trembling hand for the wine goblet before me and took a fortifying sip.
“Ye prefer wine to ale?” Laird Campbell asked, his voice low.
I glanced at him, surprised he’d initiated conversation. “Aye. My stepmama says a lady should avoid ale.”
“And does everything ye do meet with yer stepmama’s approval?”
“Hardly,” I scoffed. “She did nae want me to come here.”
He frowned. “Why nae?”
I considered what to stay. Sticking as close to the truth as possible seemed the best course of action. “She believes yer da is guilty of murdering the Gordons.”
“Well, she’s wrong,” Laird Campbell announced with vehemence and, from what I could see upon is face, earnestness. It was unsettling, really. He seemed to believe in his da’s innocence as much as I believed in his guilt.
Before I could ponder it further, a serving lad appeared, placing a trencher before me that was laden with mutton, bread, and stewed apples.
Here was my first opportunity! My heartbeat quickened with the knowledge.
With one hand on my goblet, I used the other to reach for a piece of bread, and I deliberately let my arm brush against Laird Campbell’s, as if by accident.
I focused my thoughts, ready to glean whatever secrets might be within his mind, but there was not anything but silence.
Disconcerted, I pulled back, frowning slightly.
How strange. Was there something different about him, or had my powers somehow failed?
“Do ye nae care for the food?” Laird Campbell asked, clearly misinterpreting my expression.
“’Tis fine,” I assured him and grabbed a piece of bread this time, hoping he’d let it go. When it seemed he would, I scrambled for a way to bring up Alba and clearing my throat, I said, “I hope to make more progress with Alba tomorrow.”
Softness entered his eyes at the mention of his sister. “I appreciate yer patience with her. Most would have run screaming after what ye witnessed today.”
“I’m nae most people,” I replied, and that at least was not a lie.
“What are ye two talking about?” Allan suddenly asked from my left, his arm coming to rest against mine as he reached across me for the bread. The moment our arms touched, his thoughts flooded my mind, unbidden, unwanted, and shockingly clear.
The serving lass has the finest breasts I’ve seen in an age. Wonder if she’d warm my bed tonight…
I jerked my arm away and gulped my wine. As I swallowed, a sharp pain shot through my right shoulder, and it was so sharp I winced.
“What’s the matter?” Laird Campbell asked, his brow furrowed.
“I’ve a twinge in my shoulder,” I replied, rubbing my aching shoulder.
“Me too,” Allan said, leaning his elbows on the table to look between me and his brother. “I took a mighty blow during training today to the same shoulder ye’re rubbing. It still aches something fierce.”
I froze, my wine goblet halfway to my lips. The curse of my gift washed over me and plunged a hand into my chest to squeeze my heart. Fear spread through me like a vine, but I would go on. I had to. I needed to. I would never be at peace unless I avenged my family.
I could feel Laird Campbell’s stare upon me, and when I stole a look at him from underneath my lashes, I confirmed that I was correct. The man was scrutinizing me. “Ye’re verra pale,” he said.
“And ye’re verra nosy,” I blurted. I slapped my hand over my mouth, then peeled my fingers away long enough to gulp more wine. “I’m sorry,” I rushed out. “I’m weary from traveling.”
“’Tis fine,” he said, sounding almost as if he was trying not to laugh at me. “I actually appreciate yer honesty. So few people beyond my brother and Thor speak their minds to me. It’s a hazard of being laird.”
“Well,” I said, “ye’ll likely get more blunt talk from me in the future.” It was a good thing he found the quality endearing, but it could be dangerous as well.
Before either of us could say more, a commotion at the table closest to us drew my attention, as well as Laird Campbell’s.
Below us, on the great hall floor, stood an elderly woman with dark hair threaded with silver.
She seemed to be struggling with her serving tray.
The dishes upon it wobbled precariously.
Cursing, Laird Campbell scrambled from his seat, descended the dais, and strode toward her.
He said something to her that caused her to extend the tray toward him.
He took it, and then he finished serving the table himself as the woman hobbled away.
I watched, astonished at this display from a man I believed cruel, ruthless, and without a conscience. How could he, who humbled himself to aid one of his servants, be the same man waging war against my family?
“Does yer brother do such things often?” I asked. I had to. I found I absolutely had to know.
“Aye,” Allan responded. “My da was the same way.”
I pressed my fingertips to my still aching head. It didn’t make sense. They couldn’t be monsters and be kind. Could they?
“Ross takes the burdens of others upon himself without a second thought,” Allan added.
“I would nae have expected it,” I admitted.
He shrugged. “Ross is many things, but uncaring is nae one of them.”
I watched him as he finished serving the table, his large hands deftly pouring wine into wooden goblets.
Then he sat with them for a moment, laughing and sharing stories with the clansmen.
His deep voice carried across the hall like distant thunder.
Eventually, he rose and strode back toward us with long, sure steps, his kilt swaying against muscled calves.
He exuded power like heat from a forge, I realized, and something tightened within my belly, a sensation both foreign and familiar.
I tried not to stare as he returned to the high table, but his piercing green gaze caught mine.
His neck reddened beneath his dark stubble. “She was struggling.”
“Aye,” I agreed, confusion warring with the hatred I’d nurtured for years.
Had I not known who this man was, I would have liked him.
Admired him. Thought him handsome. The tightness within me grew, and I shifted on the bench.
As Laird Campbell sat, Thor, who sat to his left, engaged him in conversation, and I found myself glad to have a moment to not have to speak.
My appetite was gone, lost to my confusion and frustration.
I needed these people to be monsters, and yet they didn’t seem to be.