Page 13 of Trapped by the Wicked Highlander (Lairds of the Loch Alliance #2)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

C assandra sat at her worktable, grinding dried thyme and chamomile into a fine powder. The rhythmic motion of the mortar and pestle should have soothed her, but her thoughts kept drifting elsewhere—back to the kiss. It had been days, and yet she could still feel the warmth of Hunter’s lips on hers, the strength of his hands as he held her close. She was furious with herself.

Why did I let it happen? Why do I want it again?

She bit her lip, pressing harder against the herbs, as if she could crush the memory along with them.

"Hunter, stay away from him lass. He will do ye nae good," she said to herself.

She had come here to heal, to work, not to let herself get caught in another web of desire that would just lead to heartache again.

"Cannae trust any of the men folk, remember that," she said as she carried a bucket of water to the hearth and set it to boil.

And yet, no matter how much she scolded herself, she couldn't stop thinking about him as she moved back to her table to work.

A sharp knock at the door made her freeze, her breath catching in her throat. She clenched her hands, half-expecting the door to swing open and reveal Hunter standing there, ready to unravel her again.

When Jessica stepped inside instead, Cassandra exhaled, relief and disappointment warring within her. She quickly composed herself and mustered a smile, pushing aside her reckless thoughts.

Jessica grinned as she strode in. “Och, ye look like a lass who’s been lost in her thoughts.”

Cassandra chuckled, setting the pestle down. “Aye, just busy with the herbs. The patients still need tendin'.”

Jessica tilted her head, eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Is that so? Then why’d ye look like ye expected someone else at the door?”

Cassandra’s smile faltered for half a second before she smoothed her features. “I dinnae expect anyone, really. But I’m glad it’s ye, Jessica. Shall I make us some tea, then?"

Cassandra averted her gaze to the kettle, realizing that Jessica could see right through her.

Jessica smirked, folding her arms. “Aye, I’m sure ye are. Tea would be good, thank ye," she said.

"Good, I make me own mix," Cassandra said as she started to spoon herbs into a tea pot. "This is a very good tea for-"

"Tell me, Cassandra, why do I get the feelin’ there’s somethin’ ye’re nae sayin’? Maskin’ it with talk of tea?" Jessica said cutting her off.

Cassandra waved a hand dismissively keeping focus on the tea. “Ye imagine things, dear friend." Cassandra moved to the kettle and poured hot water into the tea pot. She gathered two cups setting one down in front of Jessica trying to not make eye contact as she knew the woman would see right through her.

"Now, what brings ye here? Is there news of a patient?" Cassandra asked.

Jessica leaned against the table, clearly not fooled. “I was wonderin’ if ye’d like a break. I just finished bakin’ somethin’ sweet, and I thought ye might want to sneak a bite before the kitchen folk snatch it all up. Get out of this musty workshop for a bit."

Cassandra’s lips twitched at the temptation. “A sweet, ye say? Now that is an offer I might nae refuse.”

Jessica laughed. “Aye, I thought that might work."

Cassandra looked at Jessica, knowing very well the woman had an ulterior motive to offering her a sweet and became hesitant.

"But I do have much work to do. Maybe ye can stow away a sweet for me later," she said.

"Come, let’s go before the laird’s men get their hands on it.”

Cassandra hesitated, glancing at the herbs she still had to prepare.

"I'm nae leavin' until ye come with me," Jessica said.

After a moment, she gave a small sigh and stood. Perhaps a distraction was exactly what she needed.

"Alright, just for a while. I could use a break from the pestle and mortar," she said. Then she removed the bucket of boiling water from the hearth and set it down on the stone floor. She tossed a few used cloths inside of it and left it to sit.

"I'm ready then, what magic have ye conjured up with those bakin’ hands?" she asked.

"Ye will love it. A berry and grain bread that is some of me best work," Jessica said as they walked out of the workshop together.

Cassandra walked beside Jessica down the dimly lit corridor, the scent of fresh bread and roasted meat growing stronger with each step. The castle was more alive now, the groans of the ill replaced by murmurs of conversation and the clatter of dishes.

The worst of the sickness had passed, and some of the patients were now sitting up, eating, and even walking with assistance.

"I am glad that the castle hums with people. It is a good sign of progress," she said.

Jessica sighed with relief, clasping her hands together. “Och, Cassandra, I cannae thank ye enough. Without ye, I daenae ken what would’ve happened. Ye’ve saved so many lives. Ye are the miracle, me dear."

Cassandra offered a small smile, though she did not feel entirely at ease. “I only did what needed doin’. I’m just glad to see them recoverin’. A healer is only as good as the strength of her patients.”

Jessica shook her head. “Ye’re too humble, lass. I’ll be forever grateful for what ye’ve done here, especially for Lady Elena. It would have been dark days if she grew worse."

A silence settled between them as they walked, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor. Jessica stole a sideways glance at Cassandra, her sharp eyes catching something unspoken in her expression.

After a moment, she tilted her head and asked, “Is there somethin’ else troublin’ ye?”

Cassandra’s grip tightened slightly on the folds of her skirt, her heart lurching at the question. She did not want to admit the truth—that she had been avoiding Hunter, that every time she saw him, a war waged inside her between the undeniable pull of desire and the deeply ingrained distrust she had for men.

She hated how easily Hunter unsettled her, how the mere thought of him sent a warmth curling through her that she did not want to feel. But she would never confess such a thing, especially not to Jessica.

She forced an even tone. “Nay, I’ve just been focusin’ on me work. There’s still much to do.”

Jessica studied her for a long moment, as if deciding whether or not to press further. Then, with a knowing smirk, she simply nodded. “Aye, work does keep the mind busy. But daenae forget, lass—ye’re allowed to take a breath now and then.”

Cassandra gave a small chuckle, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Aye, perhaps.”

But in truth, she feared that if she stopped, even for a moment, she would no longer be able to control the storm raging inside her.

Jessica tilted her head, her sharp gaze never leaving Cassandra’s face. “Tell me true—do ye have a man back at yer home in McAllister Castle?”

Cassandra stiffened, her eyes dropping to the stone floor, unable to meet Jessica’s probing stare.

Jessica sighed, crossing her arms. “Och, ye can confide in me, Cassandra. Whatever it is, I’ll nae go runnin’ me mouth about it.” Her voice softened, a gentle invitation rather than a demand. “I ken heartache when I see it.”

Cassandra inhaled deeply, her fingers tightening at her sides. “I was engaged once,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “His name was William. I found him in the arms of another woman before we wed.”

Jessica’s expression darkened with sympathy. “Och, I’m so sorry, lass.”

Cassandra forced a tight smile, but there was no warmth behind it. “I ended the betrothal that very moment, but the damage was done. I nay longer believe in true love, nor do I trust any man.”

Her words were sharp, final, as if saying them aloud would make them more real, more unshakable.

Jessica reached out and gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “Then we need a strong drink, aye? A good whisky will dull the sting of bad memories.”

Cassandra shook her head quickly. “I cannae, Jessica. I’ve too much work to do.” She hoped that would be the end of it, that her friend would simply let the subject drop.

Jessica, however, arched a brow, her eyes narrowing. “Or is there another reason ye’ve buried yerself in work all day beside past heartache?”

Cassandra gulped, the heat creeping up her neck. “Nay, nonsense,” she said, though the slight waver in her voice betrayed her.

Jessica folded her arms, her smirk returning. “Is it, now? Seems to me ye’ve been hidin’ from someone.”

Cassandra swallowed hard, her thoughts immediately drifting to Hunter. She did not want to see him, because she feared what she might do if she did.

"I think I'll have that drink after all," Cassandra said.

Jessica grinned triumphantly. “That’s the spirit, lass!” she declared, linking her arm with Cassandra’s.

Before Cassandra could protest further, Jessica was already leading her down the corridor with determined steps. Cassandra sighed, resigning herself to whatever mischief Jessica had in mind.

“I thought we were goin’ to the kitchens?” Cassandra asked, arching a brow as they turned down a different corridor.

Jessica laughed, shaking her head. “Och, nay, I keep the good whisky in me rooms. The swill they serve in the kitchens is fit for old men with nay taste left in their tongues.”

Cassandra smirked despite herself as they entered Jessica’s chambers. The room was warm and inviting, with a roaring fire crackling in the hearth. A plush settee sat near the window, and a sturdy wooden table bore a decanter and two glasses.

Jessica strode confidently to the table, pouring them both a generous measure of amber liquid.

Jessica handed Cassandra a glass and grinned. “To leavin’ behind faithless men and drinkin’ good whisky.”

Cassandra chuckled, clinking her glass against Jessica’s before taking a sip. The whisky burned on the way down, but warmth spread through her chest, loosening the tension she hadn’t realized she was holding. She sighed, settling into the chair across from Jessica, allowing herself a rare moment of ease.

Jessica leaned back, swirling the whisky in her glass. “Tell me true, Cassandra. Do ye miss him at all?”

Cassandra scoffed, shaking her head. “Nae in the slightest. I only regret that I ever trusted him in the first place.”

Jessica nodded knowingly. “Aye, men can be faithless creatures. But nae all of them, ye ken. There are some good ones out there.”

Cassandra raised a brow. “Ye sound like a woman who speaks from experience. Do ye have a lad tucked away somewhere, then?”

Jessica laughed, taking another sip of her drink. “Och, I’ve had me fair share of suitors. But none who’ve made me want to tie meself to one man forever.”

Cassandra tilted her head, intrigued. “So ye daenae trust men either, then?”

Jessica smirked. “Nay, I trust them to be what they are—trouble. But that doesnae mean I cannae enjoy their company while it lasts.”

Cassandra chuckled, feeling the whisky warming her from the inside out. “Aye, well, I think I’ll keep me distance from them altogether.”

Jessica eyed her over the rim of her glass. “Even from a certain broodin’ laird?”

Cassandra nearly choked on her whisky, coughing as Jessica burst into laughter. “Och, daenae look at me like that,” Jessica teased. “I’ve seen the way he watches ye. And the way ye avoid lookin’ at him.”

Cassandra groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. “It’s nae like that.”

Jessica leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Then what is it like, hmm? Because from where I stand, it seems like ye’ve been runnin’ scared.”

Cassandra hesitated, staring down into her glass. The truth was, Jessica wasn’t entirely wrong. Hunter was unlike any man she’d ever met—strong, fierce, and infuriatingly impossible to ignore.

Jessica grinned as if she’d already won the argument. “Aye, I thought as much.”

Cassandra scowled at her, finishing the last of her drink in one quick swallow. “I daenae want to talk about him.”

Jessica snorted. “Then why are yer cheeks pink, lass?”

Cassandra widened her eyes, but she couldn’t stop the heat rising to her face. The whisky was surely to blame for that. She stood, swaying slightly, and pointed a finger at Jessica.

“I think ye just enjoy teasin’ me.”

Jessica grinned wickedly. “Aye, I do. And ye make it so easy.”

Cassandra shook her head, laughing despite herself. "Maybe another drink is a good idea."

"Aye, agree," Jessica said as both women annoyed another round of talking and drinking.

Jessica, still grinning at Cassandra’s flustered state, rose from her chair and moved toward the door. “If we’re to keep drinkin’, we best have somethin’ to eat. I'll have the kitchen send up a proper supper for us.”

"Thank ye," Cassandra said.

Jessica left the room to find a maid to deliver the message. In those brief moments Cassandra closed her eyes, and instantly regretted it.

"Lass…" a breathy deep voice said.

Cassandra quickly opened her eyes and realized that her mind was replaying the heated moment with Hunter. His voice was on her mind. She moved about the room trying to keep him from her thoughts.

A moment later Jessica entered.

"Good, all done. How about a game of cards while we wait," she asked.

"That would be very good," Cassandra replied knowing the game would take her mind off Hunter.

Fifteen minutes later, the supper arrived. Jessica lifted the lid from a tray, revealing an array of food that made Cassandra’s stomach rumble despite the whisky warming her belly.

Cassandra leaned forward, inhaling the delicious scent. “This is delightful and needed after me drinkin’” she said, amusement tugging at her lips.

Jessica winked as she cut into a thick slice of roasted lamb, its juices glistening in the firelight. “I ken how to treat me guests,” she said, piling Cassandra’s plate with tender meat, golden-brown oatcakes, and mashed neeps.

Cassandra took a bite, savoring the rich, seasoned flavor of the lamb. The oatcakes were crisp on the outside but soft within, perfect for soaking up the thick gravy.

The neeps had been mashed with butter and a hint of honey, their sweetness balancing the savory meal. It was a feast fit for warriors, and she hadn’t realized how hungry she was until now.

Jessica poured them both another measure of whisky, though Cassandra hesitated before taking it. “I may regret this by morn,” Cassandra muttered.

Jessica smirked. “Aye, but regret is for tomorrow. Tonight, we eat, drink, and forget the troubles of faithless men and broodin’ lairds.”

Cassandra chuckled, clinking her glass against Jessica’s before taking another sip. The warmth in her belly deepened, the tension in her shoulders easing as they shared stories and laughter.

For the first time in days, she allowed herself to simply be—without worry, without thoughts of healing, or the past, and the men who haunted her every waking moment.

By the time the meal was done, Cassandra felt comfortably full and more than a little lightheaded. Jessica stretched lazily, yawning. “I’ll sleep well tonight, that’s for certain,” she said.

Cassandra stood carefully, her legs feeling unsteady beneath her. “I should go before I fall asleep in yer chair,” she said with a soft laugh.

Jessica smirked but waved her off. “Aye, off with ye then. But I expect ye to join me for another night like this soon.”

Cassandra smiled, then made her way toward the door. The cool air of the corridor sobered her slightly, but the whisky still hummed in her veins. She walked slowly down the dark hallway, hoping the movement would clear her head. Then she saw him.

Nay, I cannae see him now.

Hunter stood at the far end of the hallway, his broad frame unmistakable even in the dim candlelight. Her breath hitched, panic sparking through her chest. Without thinking, she turned sharply and hurried in the opposite direction, her heart thudding wildly.

She didn’t know if he had seen her. She didn’t dare look back to check. Every step felt too loud, her pulse roaring in her ears. Heat flooded her body—not from the whisky this time, but from something deeper, something more dangerous.

She cursed under her breath as she finally reached her chambers, slipping inside and pressing her back against the door. Her breath came in short, uneven bursts.

What is wrong with me?

Cassandra squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will away the heat crawling up her spine. She was far too drunk to be anywhere near that man. He already had a hold on her senses when she was sober—what fool would she make of herself in this state?

Hunter was temptation wrapped in danger, and she had no intention of giving in to either.

Still, she could not shake the image of him standing in the corridor, dark and unreadable. Had he seen her scurry away like a frightened rabbit? Did he know the effect he had on her?

Cassandra groaned, pressing her fingers to her temples. She needed sleep. And distance. And perhaps, if she was lucky, she’d wake up in the morning with no memory of the way her body had betrayed her tonight.