Page 4 of The Highlander’s Enchanted Healer (Spellbound Hearts #2)
Both men started laughing at that. Annoyed, I purposely looked away from them into the thick crowd of clans people who came to Dunvegan Castle every year for the MacLeod’s Samhain festival.
Nearly all the clans in the Highlands were present to mark the end of summer and the harvest, and I suspected somewhere in the midst was Ramsey Gordon.
My fingers curled reflexively into fists.
I knew I’d want to kill him the moment I saw him, but I would not.
I’d given the requisite vow, as had all men who stepped foot on MacLeod’s land, not to take up arms against anyone else during Samhain.
MacLeod believed bloodshed during the time when the dead were rumored to rise and spirts were said to be wondering about, would curse his clan.
To kill another meant MacLeod would kill you.
I was fond of my head, despite what Allan thought.
I did not see Gordon, and I could not decide if I was glad of it or disappointed.
And yet as I scanned the crowd, a woman walking by a large warrior caught my eye.
She was a bonny lass, for certain, but it was not her long fiery hair that tumbled down her back in waves or her ample curves or lovely pale face that caught my attention.
Beautiful lasses were everywhere. What held my gaze upon this woman was the way she moved through the crowd, like a hawk through the morning mist, purposeful, as if she had her prey in sight.
Every man she passed gaped at her, but she did not seem to notice, or maybe it was that she did not care.
Her lips were pressed in a grim, determined line.
She offered no coy smiles like the women who had approached us earlier.
There was something in her fast stride, in the way she darted in and out of people, that made me think she was trying very hard to keep something within her leashed but that the restlessness drove her to move quickly. I understood that feeling myself.
A serving wench moved in my line of sight, obscuring my view of the lass. Irritation rose as she stood there speaking for what seemed an eternity to a warrior. When the server finally moved, I scanned the crowd for the lass once more.
She was crossing the great hall toward my direction, then stopped in front of the long wooden table near ours.
It was mostly filled with younger women, though there were a few silver-haired lasses at the far end.
A dark-haired lass motioned to her, and the redhead immediately sat and apparently said something amusing, as many of the lasses started to laugh.
When she smiled in return, my chest tightened oddly.
She’d been beautiful before the smile, but now there was a light that swept across her face that caused a sort of ache within me.
For a moment, I imagined such a smile turned my way in the early-morning light after a night of bedding.
What a glorious thing that would be to wake up to.
As soon as the thought filled my head, I dismissed it.
I deserved no such pleasure in my life until I avenged my family and freed my sister’s mind of its torment.
And with that thought, I started to look away from the lass to see if I could find the MacLeod healer.
My brother spoke, drawing my attention back to the lass as he did. “I wager that lass could tempt ye to break yer vow,” Allan said, nudging me with his elbow.
I forced my gaze away, irritated at myself for staring at her. “I do nae ken what ye’re speaking of,” I lied.
Allan smirked. “I saw ye staring.”
“Enough, Brother.” The words came out harsher than I intended, drawing glances down the line of the table from my men.
Allan winked. “See, yer lust is making ye grouchy already, and ye just saw the lass.”
“’Tis nae lust making me grouchy,” I snapped, rising from my seat. “’Tis ye and all yer pestering.”
“I think ye’re afraid,” Allan replied low as I climbed off the bench.
I glared at him. “Exactly what do ye think I’m afraid of?”
“Of feeling something beyond the rage ye nurture.”
“I feel things, Brother,” I said, leaning down and bringing my face close to his so our conversation would not be overheard.
Though the great hall was noisy with laugher, talk, and clattering goblets, I preferred not to take a chance.
“I feel pain for Alba and loss for Mama and Da. I worry that Gordon will win more skirmishes and gain more land, and then ye’ll be left to bend the knee to a man who killed our parents and destroyed our sister in mind and body. ”
I saw Allan take a sharp breath, and then he dragged a hand through his hair. “Where would ye be if it came to that?” he asked.
“Dead. If Gordon gained control of our home, he’d kill me straightaway because he kens about me what I ken about him.”
“Which is?”
“That neither of us is going to stop until the other is dead.”
Allan’s face went soft. “Sorry, Brother. I will respect yer vow. I wish ye had voiced yer inner thoughts sooner.”
“’Tis nae my way,” I said.
Allan smiled. “Aye, ye are more like Da than ye realize.”
His words made my throat feel as if it were closing. I had spent my youth rebelling against my da, and it took him dying for me to realize that it was truly because I feared I’d never be the man he hoped me to be, that I could not live up to his standards and be the great laird he had been.
“I’m going to speak with Laird MacLeod about the healer,” I said, unwilling to talk more of Da, of what I knew now had driven me. It was too personal to speak out loud.
As I strode toward the dais and Laird MacLeod, my gaze drew to the table where the redheaded lass still sat.
No matter how fiery a woman’s hair, no matter how compelling her presence, I would keep my vow.
The Gordons would pay for what they’d done, and until that debt was settled in blood, there could be no joy, no distraction for me.