Page 24 of The Highlander’s Enchanted Healer (Spellbound Hearts #2)
“Where’d ye find this little fella?” I asked, needing to turn my attention from the siren beside me.
“In the gardens,” Aria offered. “I think Alba wishes to keep him as pet.” Alba cocked her eyes questioningly at Aria, who made a little squeak from deep within her throat.
“Do ye wish to keep him?” I asked my sister, following Aria’s lead of speaking directly to her.
To my delight, Alba nodded, and then she held out her hands for Aria to hand her the wiggling pup. Aria did so with a smile and said, “He’s a wolf hound.”
“Oh, aye?” I said, looking more closely at him now and seeing the special marking that indicated he was indeed. “Ye’ve a good eye. How do ye ken about such markings?”
“My da. He had hounds, and he taught me.” She turned her attention to Alba. “They grow to be verra large. This guy will come to yer hip. And they are fiercely protective and loyal.”
A light seemed to spark in Alba’s eyes as if she loved what she was hearing.
“Were yer da’s hounds loyal?” he asked.
Aria nodded. “Aye, verra loyal, to my da and my brother.” She frowned suddenly. “But Arrow did nae like my st—” She waved a hand. Her cheeks pinked, and she started to fidget. “Ye two do nae want to hear my boring stories.”
To my surprise, I actually had a keen desire to hear them.
I wanted, I realized in that moment, to learn all I could about her, about the life she had before coming to us and the life she wanted to have, and that desire was even more dangerous than lust. I wanted to know her heart, which meant she had somehow breached mine.
I abruptly stood. “I best get back to my laird duties. Alba, ye may keep the hound—”
“Nay,” Aria said, sternly. “She must ask ye first. Alba, ye must voice yer desire.”
A fiercely angry look settled on Alba’s face as Aria cocked her head at her, and my desire to protest, to protect Alba rose, but I clenched my teeth on speaking it.
Alba jutted out her chin and clutched the pup to her, but Aria held out her hands, an expectant look upon her face.
“If ye are going to act as a child, ye will be treated as a child. Children do nae get hounds to care for, so give me the hound.”
Alba looked immediately to me, as did Aria.
I wanted to give Alba what she desired, but more than that, I wanted my sister back.
“One word. ’Tis all I need from ye. Give me one word, and I’ll let ye keep him.
” I felt like a brute, but I continued. “Otherwise, ye need to hand him over to Aria, and she will keep him for ye until ye are prepared to speak.”
Alba glared at Aria and me, and her face flushed a mottled red color. “Want!” she croaked, then shot to her feet and stomped away from us.
When she disappeared into the castle, I looked to Aria just as she looked to me. “Ye are brilliant,” I said. The prettiest blush stained her cheeks. I had never seen anything as lovely as her embarrassment and had never desired anything as much as I did her.
“I could nae have accomplished that without yer help. Thank ye for supporting me.”
I nodded. “Truth be told, I did nae want to. I wanted to give her what she desired without making her work for it.”
Aria stared at me with something that looked akin to wonder. “Aye,” she finally said. “’tis understandable. Ye love her. But she must rejoin her life.”
“Aye. I see that now. I do nae ken why I did nae see it sooner. Or why Allan did nae.”
She stared at me as if I had just said something enlightening. “I think,” she said, “when we are close to a situation and it involves those we love, ’tis much harder to see the truth.”
“Mayhap so,” I replied.
“May I ask ye something?”
She could have asked me anything in that moment, and I’d have answered her, but I simply nodded.
“Will ye send a missive and see if Roger Fergusson can come any sooner to visit Alba?”
“Aye, but why?”
“Well, ye said he and Alba were to wed before yer da broke the agreement at the king’s insistence and made one with the Gordons instead.
And Laird Fergusson agreed to enter back into the agreement after Fergus—” She paused, as if overcome by some emotion, but then she seemed to shrug it off. “After Fergus Gordon was killed.”
“Aye.”
“And Alba started humming after Roger Fergusson’s last visit.”
“Aye again.”
She smiled as a wistful look settled on her face. “I think they love each other. I believe he comes in hopes she will get better because he’s waiting for her, and I think she is finally at a place to try to heal—with a push.”
“Ye’ve a verra analytical mind,” I said, in awe of her.
She grinned, and it lit her face. I resisted the urge to trace the path of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
“Thank ye. My da used to say so as well. He would allow me in—” She gave a shake of her head.
“In what?” I asked, curious.
She worried her lower lip for a moment before responding. “He’d allow me to sit in the corner sometimes when he strategized with the laird on battle plans.” She studied me intently. “I imagine that shocks ye.”
“It does nae,” I replied, amused at the shock I saw on her face. “My da often conferred with my mama on strategy. He said women could be the canniest of creatures and the fiercest opponents.”
“Will ye confer with yer wife?” she blurted.
I got an immediate picture of her and I standing before a map, planning strategic moves to conquer the Gordons. I stood abruptly, unnerved.
“I’m sorry,” she rushed out. “I should nae have—”
“I would,” I said. “If she had a mind like yers.” With that, I left her, because if I stayed a moment longer, I could not say I could hold to my vow.