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K eira led Evander to the Laird’s quarters, her arm wrapped around him.

Somewhere between the dungeons and where they currently were, the bout of strength Evander had mustered had left him completely.

Now, he looked like a man who had just survived a terrible ailment and needed as much rest as he could get.

He had been unconscious for four days; the least he could do was rest for at least half that time.

“Watch yer step,” Keira cautioned, the concern in her voice never dwindling as they walked.

Soon, they got to the Laird’s quarters, and she pushed the door open, all the while he leaned slightly on her. She led him to the bed and eased him onto the covers.

“Ye’re all right,” she soothed, almost like she was reassuring herself as well. “Ye’re alive and ye’re all right.”

Evander sank into the mattress and looked up at her, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched her push stray strands of hair from her face.

“’Tis quite hilarious, is it nae?” he asked.

Keira frowned. “What is?”

“Oh, ye ken. The fact that it was ye who almost saw God after ye came undone, but ‘twas me who had a heart failure. I think fate has a twisted sense of humor.”

Keira rolled her eyes. “Even on the brink of death, ye still find a way to?—”

“Nay longer on the brink of death. I’m recovering,” he corrected, raising his index finger and stressing every syllable in the last word.

Keira only laughed in response and turned around.

“Where are ye going?” Evander called out as she got to the door.

She squeezed her eyes shut, thousands of thoughts running through her mind. “I want to go see Lesley. I must thank her for helping me bring ye back to life.”

Evander said nothing in response, and she proceeded out of the room without turning back. Once she shut the door behind her, she rested her back against it, her heart pounding harder than usual.

Of course, that was only half of the truth.

Yes, she would see Lesley. But she must do something else after that. Something she should have done a long time ago.

She didn’t waste more time lingering by the door before she made her way to the apothecary.

As she walked down the halls, she passed a few maids and some of the guests who had come for the cèilidh.

None of the maids stopped to acknowledge her.

Whenever they saw her coming, they either walked even faster or turned the other way, refusing to talk to her.

The guests, on the other hand, were much more cruel.

They stole glances at her as they walked, the disdain on their faces hot enough the melt a block of ice.

Keira had noticed this earlier when Evander had led her out of the dungeons. She had noticed the way people stared at them both, especially at her. She had noticed how they murmured under their breaths, something she couldn’t hear but somehow knew was disparaging.

Now, as she headed toward the apothecary, she could see their looks again, this time clearer than day and filled with even more disdain.

What happened? Why the switch? She had been nothing but kind to these people. Why would they repay her this way in such a short time? Why would they even take his side? Even if she had done what they accused her of. There should be some doubt, but for some reason, there seemed to be none at all.

They’ve all made up their minds. She was a killer, and there was nothing she could do to convince them otherwise.

It did not matter that Evander survived—they would never let her live this down. People thought she was a killer. That she had killed her former husband and had tried to kill Evander. No one would look at her with grace or respect anymore.

It still didn’t register well in her, the sudden switch in their attitudes.

It was obvious that there was only one thing left to do.

She walked past a few other guests from the cèilidh—two women she knew were from Clan Kincaid. One of them was the same woman who had accosted her on her wedding day to ask what her secret was in nailing down a man like Evander.

She thought the familiarity would lessen their animosity and coax a smile as they approached her.

However, the two women shot her the coldest looks she had ever seen, as if she was a vermin they couldn’t wait to destroy.

She could almost swear that one of them had uttered the word ‘ whore’ as they walked right past her.

She watched them move, their heads bent together.

She did nothing to deserve this. She did nothing to deserve any of it.

All she ever wanted was peace. She just wanted to be in a place where no one persecuted her.

A place that was nothing like her former clan.

It was growing more evident as she walked, the apothecary now in her line of sight, that it was no longer possible.

It stung, the way everyone had already turned against her.

The maids, the footmen, the visitors. Even Shona, whom she had welcomed warmly, had ordered Hudson to throw her in the dungeons.

Keira couldn’t blame her, though. A part of her wondered if she would have done the same if she were in her shoes. Perhaps she would have done even worse.

She stopped before the door and knocked gently.

“Ye may enter,” Lesley’s voice rang out.

Keira exhaled loudly before twisting the knob and stepping into the apothecary. Lesley was staring out the window, but when the door clicked shut behind Keira, she turned around. Her breath hitched as their eyes met.

“He freed ye,” she whispered, the surprise in her voice evident as she leaned forward, a smile on her face.

“I came to thank ye, Lesley,” Keira started, her arms folded over her chest. “I came to thank ye for saving Evander. I am certain that without ye, the story would have been completely different.”

Lesley nodded. “I am sorry that it had to come to this.”

Keira’s eyes darted to the floor. “Me too.”

“Ye must ken that I never believed for a second that ye had anything to do with what happened,” Lesley added.

“’Tis a good thing he’s alive now, is it nae?

It means the charges against ye will be dropped.

There is nay reason to prosecute ye now.

Perhaps I shall even fetch ye some willow bark for yer?—”

“I’m leaving, Lesley.” The words had escaped Keira’s mouth in a low whisper—not the way she had intended.

Lesley’s mouth dropped open. “Leaving?”

“I am leaving the castle. I already asked Stella to pack me things the day before yesterday. Part of me had assumed I would be exiled if he had truly died, and I didn’t want to waste time packing me trunks by then.”

“Keira, ye cannae go. Ye cannae leave me and everything else here,” Lesley protested, her voice rising.

“Look,” Keira said, “I dinnae ken exactly how the rumor spread that I had something to do with Evander’s brush with death.

But I cannae take any more false blame. And I cannae see Evander’s friends and people look at him with disdain because of me.

Because that will inevitably happen when he defends me. ”

Lesley moved closer to her and reached for her hands, utter despair etched on every line of her face. “Please, Keira. I am certain we can find another way.”

“Ye ken what the funny thing is?” Keira continued, disregarding the fact that Lesley had clamped her hands around her wrists. “Hudson did suggest that I leave.”

Lesley’s face dropped. “What?”

“On me wedding day. He told me to run away while I still can.”

Lesley curled her lip as disgust contorted her features. “He said that?”

“Aye. I should have listened to him back then. None of this would’ve happened.”

Lesley said nothing. She released Keira from her grip instead and turned away, tears filling her eyes. “This is me fault.” She sniffled. “This is all me fault.”

“ Yer fault?” Keira echoed. “I should be thanking ye for bringing Evander back to life, Lesley. Now that I am certain he will live, I can find a proper way to leave this castle.”

“Leave this castle for what?” a familiar deep voice called behind her.