Chapter 17
Kayden walked back to the castle from the stables, his mind on Lilliana. He could not help but think that she was avoiding him. He had not seen her for two days. After her startling declaration—nay, after she’d all but ambushed him in his chambers, he’d expected more from her.
When she hurried off to her rooms, he’d been tempted to follow, to demand an explanation for her behavior, perhaps to take her up on her unspoken invitation. But he did not want to rush her or risk misunderstanding her actions.
If this marriage was to work—and he realized that he wanted it to—then he could not act like she was a temporary dalliance.
Her eyes on his body had been hot with desire, and it had been all he could do not to scoop her up into his arms, throw her on his bed, and give her the ravishing she so clearly wanted.
He slammed into someone, coming back to the present with a bang. Blinking a few times, he opened his mouth to apologize to whomever he’d smashed into until he realized that it was Jacob.
“Lost in thought?” his cousin asked with a grin.
Kayden narrowed his eyes. “What are ye doing, lurking about? Were ye waiting for me?”
“As a matter of fact, I was. I have news.”
Kayden sobered at once. “News?”
“Aye. As ye ken, I was down in Ardmore to see about getting some food supplies.”
Kayden nodded. “Did ye succeed?”
Jacob moved his head in a so-so gesture. “Ye ken we’re nae the only ones plagued by redcoats?”
“Aye, I ken. So, what’s the news?”
“Well, it seems that the village nearby isn’t the only one suffering from a mysterious illness. A female healer has been spotted in the borderlands, trying to treat the people there.”
“Our borderlands?” Kayden asked.
“Aye.”
There was a snort from behind them, and they both turned to see Moira standing a few feet away. “What healer is this? Is it that witch Ailis MacAoidhein?”
Jacob shook his head. “It isnae someone anyone kens.”
Moira folded her arms, looking miffed. “Are they trying to make ye look weak? Lady McGill is working hard to find a cure. Do they nae trust their Laird?”
“We cannae stop healers from plying their trade. It isnae as serious as ye’re trying to make it.” He waved a dismissive hand. “If someone else thinks they can help, there’s nay need to stop them.”
“That isnae the main problem, Cousin,” Jacob said.
Kayden quirked an eyebrow. “Well then, what is?”
“I heard tell that she speaks Gaelic, but is dressed like a Lowlander. Why would she do that?”
Kayden frowned, growing more thoughtful. “Hmm, that is strange.”
“Aye,” Jacob agreed.
They stared at each other as they tried to think of a reason for the woman’s behavior.
Moira took a step towards them, also looking concerned. “What are we going to do about this?” she asked.
Jacob took a deep breath. “We need to find her and bring her here. We need to find out her intentions.”
Lilliana was writing in her journal, chronicling the day’s events, when Kayden approached her. She had no set hours, and certainly, there was no way for people to schedule their ailments, but it had been a long day, and she was tired.
She glanced up, her expression expectant as he stood in the doorway, watching her.
“Well—” She broke off.
“Me Lady.” He executed an elegant bow.
She blinked a few times, nonplussed, her cheeks flaming. Her hand dropped when she saw that he was holding onto his left hand with his right one.
“Are you hurt?” she asked, frowning.
He shrugged. “I may need yer skills.” He turned his hand so she could see the wound on his arm.
“Oh!” she exclaimed in distress, before rising from her desk and hurrying over to him. “Come and sit down. What happened?”
He followed her gentle guiding hand to the stool and lowered himself onto it. “A small sparring accident. Nothing to be worried about.”
She examined the injury closely. “You said a sparring accident? What were you pierced by? Was it a sword?”
“Nay. We daenae spar with swords. We use sticks. It was a moment of inattention. A stick broke and cut me. There are probably still splinters in there.”
She winced in sympathy. “Well, we’ll have to start with that. Let me begin by cleaning the wound, then I’ll see what I can do.”
He nodded, dropping his head while she worked. He did not make a sound even as she dug into his wound.
“You’re very quiet. Does it hurt?”
Kayden shook his head. “Nay, lass,” he said.
Lilliana could feel the tension in him even before she began. He answered her questions sparingly, his voice clipped, as though he was guarding the truth behind his injury as fiercely as he guarded his lands.
Whatever had distracted him enough to earn such a wound, he clearly did not wish to speak of it.
She suspected it had something to do with the unrest beyond the castle walls. Or perhaps with her. Their last exchange lingered between them, sharp and unfinished.
She focused on the task at hand, carefully removing the splinters embedded in his skin.
His gaze rested heavily on her, though he said nothing.
The air in the healer’s room felt warmer than usual, thick with the scent of dried herbs and oils.
She wondered absently if he found it overwhelming, or if he noticed at all.
Her fingers moved steadily, guiding the needle through flesh with practiced care. Despite his size, he did not flinch. He only watched her with that unreadable look that made it difficult to keep her thoughts from wandering.
She suddenly became aware of how close they were. His chest brushed against her knuckles, and the warmth of him seeped through the thin fabric of her sleeves. She willed her hands to remain steady, though her pulse betrayed her.
He said nothing, yet the silence between them was far from empty.
For a fleeting moment, she wondered what it would be like to touch him without the barrier of duty, without needle and thread, without the pretense of healing to justify the closeness.
The thought startled her, and she forced her attention back to the final stitch, tying it off with careful precision.
“There,” she murmured, more to herself than to him, though she could still feel his gaze lingering long after her hands withdrew. “All done.”
He straightened up and gave her a smile. “Thank ye.”
“You’re welcome. I’d like to put a poultice on it just to pull any impurities I might have missed. Would you get me that jar?” She pointed to a tall shelf, and he stood up to get it.
He handed it to her, his hand softly brushing against hers, and his breath caught. Her gaze was open, hiding nothing from him, and he fell into her eyes, almost drowning in the stygian well of desire he could see there.
Without saying a word, he sat back down. She stood beside him, mixing various ingredients into a mortar before pounding them energetically until they turned into a paste.
She put the paste in a porous bag and then placed it over his wound, her focus absolute. Taking a clean cloth, she neatly tied the poultice in place.
“You should keep it there until tomorrow,” she murmured.
He nodded, watching her intently. It was the first time he’d really seen her work, and he was impressed by her care.
“I haven’t seen you for the last few days,” she added.
“I havenae seen ye either. I thought perhaps it was deliberate. Ye ken where the door to me chambers is, after all.” He raised an eyebrow at her, making her blush.
“I…”
He smirked. “If I had ken ye were waiting for me to find ye, I would have.” He leaned closer to her, his eyes dropping to her lips. His tongue flicked out briefly before he met her eyes again. “I can still taste ye on me tongue, ye ken? It is rather addictive.”
Her brown eyes went so wide that he thought he could fall into them. For a heartbeat, she did not move, did not breathe, as though the air itself had thickened between them.
“Kayden…” she whispered, though it sounded less like a warning and more like his name had slipped free without permission.
He stepped closer, close enough that the heat of him brushed against her skirts. One hand came to rest on the edge of the table behind her, caging her in without quite touching her. His gaze lingered on her mouth again, slower this time, deliberate.
“Ye blush easily for a woman who claims to be unafraid of me,” he murmured.
“I am not afraid,” she replied, though her voice wavered just enough to betray her. “I am… irritated.”
“Aye?” His eyebrow quirked up. “Is that what this is?”
She lifted her chin defiantly, but her fingers tightened around the cloth in her hand. “You take too much pleasure in unsettling me.”
“And ye take too much pleasure in pretending ye arenae unsettled,” he countered quietly.
The words settled between them, heavy and charged.
His hand moved, almost without thought, hovering near her waist. The restraint in the motion only made the space between them feel smaller.
Her breath brushed his jaw.
“Someone might see us,” she said softly, though she did not step away.
“Let them,” he replied, voice low. “It might silence a few wagging tongues.”
That struck something deeper. Her gaze sharpened, but before she could answer, his eyes softened, and he leaned closer, as though drawn by something he had long tried to deny.
For a moment, it seemed inevitable. The world beyond the healer’s quarters faded. But then the door creaked open.
Rua padded inside, his nails clicking against the stone floor.
The spell broke instantly.
Kayden exhaled sharply through his nose and straightened, while Lilliana turned away under the pretense of adjusting her tools, her hands trembling faintly.
Rua wandered over to them, and Kayden extended a hand, but to his surprise, his dog walked over to Lilliana and nosed at her hand.
She giggled as she petted the dog. “He seems to have picked his favorite person,” she said coyly, giving him an impish grin.
Kayden’s lips twitched, and he looked away so she would not see his amusement.
He got to his feet and nodded to her. “I thank ye for yer service, Me Lady,” he said before leaving the room.