Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Aaron did not remember walking the length of the corridor.
One moment, he was standing in the doorway of the healer’s chamber; the next, he was somewhere else entirely, gripping the sill of a window overlooking the courtyard until his knuckles turned white.
She embraced him.
The thought settled in his mind alongside the memory of what he had seen, and his chest tightened so hard it nearly hurt.
It did not make any sense.
He did not care what Edith did or with whom. At least, that was what he had told himself when he had gone to look for her. He had not expected to find her in an embrace with the healer, with her face pressed against his shoulder. He had not meant to see it.
His body shuddered with a feeling far worse than anger as he replayed the scene in his mind.
Bloody bastard.
Martin had told her how great a healer she would be if she were not going to become his lady. As though that was what he wished for her.
“Thank ye. Truly. For everything.”
Edith’s voice had been soft and sweet, as though the lessons were the only thing worth such gratitude. As though Aaron’s money, his protection, his name shielding her from the council’s cruelty counted for nothing.
His jaw hardened as he thought of Martin. His fingers clenched, his nails digging into his palms. He imagined the many things he could have done to the lad.
But he was Aaron Gallaway. He was not the sort of Laird to reward frivolous acts with his attention. He could not become soft because of a woman.
Aye. I daenae give a damn.
Edith was only a lass. It was a privilege that she had become his fake betrothed, and he would not forget that. What she did and how she acted outside their arrangement meant nothing to him. She meant nothing to him.
He hissed, pushing himself upright.
It was as though the floor would give way beneath him. As though the stone walls would come crashing down under the weight of his fury. His feet carried him along the dark stone corridors of the east wing, his steps heavy.
Hell.
He groaned, cursing inwardly.
The lass means nothing.
The more he tried to convince himself of that, the more their embrace struck him unbidden.
Damn me.
His steps slowed as he reached the door to her bedchamber. His chest tightened as he remembered the kiss they had shared.
’Tis me fault for allowing it.
He had let himself get carried away in the thrill of their arrangement and her stupid lavender scent. He had allowed her to feel comfortable around him. And that was why she could ignore him in a room full of people, walk off with the healer, and do as she pleased.
He slapped his palm against the door, the heavy wood shuddering as it swung open.
He paused. He considered turning away, returning to Scarlett and her husband and telling them that he did not find her. But his feet made a decision before he could.
He stepped into her bedchamber, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
The chamber was empty. Of course, it was.
His gaze swept across the room despite himself.
Her bed was neatly made as he would have expected.
The notebook he had gotten for her sat open on the small table beside the window, dried herbs pressed carefully between its pages.
Near the mirror, there was a ribbon he vaguely remembered seeing woven through her hair weeks ago.
He stared at it all, moving slowly as though he had no control over his body.
Every trace of her seemed impossibly present despite her absence.
His hand lowered to the back of the chair and picked up a garment—a frock—lifting the flimsy material to his nose like a man starved.
Hell.
He should leave. And yet his eyes closed as he inhaled her scent, a feeling spreading through his chest that he could only describe as the preamble to madness.
Truly, I have lost me senses.
The scent lingered, pulling memories to the surface faster than he could suppress them. The sound of her laughter when she wasn’t with him. The feel of her hand in his. The taste of her mouth.
Damn me.
His fingers tightened around the material. He lowered the garment at once, dragging a hand over his face as though he could wipe the thoughts away.
The lass has driven me mad.
“I didnae expect to find ye here.” Caelan’s voice sounded behind him.
Aaron turned around slowly.
“Ah.” A hint of something flitted across Caelan’s face, but Aaron could not bring himself to care enough to decipher it. “Ye look like a man chased by ghosts.”
If his face hadn’t hardened, his jaw would have tightened as Caelan stepped into the chamber to join him.
“What are ye doing in yer lady’s chamber?”
Yer lady.
It was as though he had chosen that word to taunt him. But there was no smile on the man’s face. Not even the slightest curve of his lips.
“I came to tell her that the carriage is ready,” Aaron managed, the lie smooth enough for the fire burning in his chest.
“Mm,” Caelan murmured, though his expression suggested he had already drawn his own conclusions and was simply choosing not to share them.
Aaron hated that more than if he had said something outright.
“Perhaps she is in the healer’s chamber,” Caelan suggested. “I saw her leave with Martin earlier.”
“Aye.”
The entire hall had seen it.
Caelan turned to leave, and Aaron followed behind him, neither of them saying another word.
The silence suited Aaron as they walked down the corridor that led out of the east wing. They descended the narrow staircase, only to find Robert and Scarlett standing on the bottom step, looking worried.
“There ye are,” Scarlett said, brightening for a moment. “Did ye find Edith?”
They were only a corridor away from the healer’s chamber now. Aaron imagined for a brief moment that Edith might still be there, but the thought of confirming it angered him.
“Nay. I daenae think she is still in the castle.”
Scarlett’s eyes narrowed slightly, the particular narrowing that meant she had noticed something and intended to comment on it later.
“Och.” Her face fell slightly. “Will she leave for the fair without us?”
Aaron glanced at Caelan. It was unlike him, telling lies as though there were a consequence he feared in his own castle.
“Perhaps ye daenae ken yer friend as much as ye think.”
Robert took a sip of his whiskey, earning himself a sharp look from Aaron that did absolutely nothing to dampen his mood.
“We should leave,” Caelan said, his expression neutral. “If ye still wish to see the village fair.”
Scarlett studied Aaron for a brief moment, uncertainty written all over her face. “Aaron.”
“Aye?”
“Ye’re certain nothing is troublin’ ye?”
“Certain.”
“Alright,” she said, leaving the matter to rest.
They stepped off the stairs and headed in the direction of the Great Hall before the sound of distant footsteps drew Aaron’s attention.
Edith appeared in the doorway, her cheeks slightly flushed, her braided hair still adorned with those small white flowers. Her eyes caught Aaron’s first, and she paused, her expression carefully composed in the particular way she had perfected over the past weeks.
“Forgive me,” she said, addressing the whole group. “The examination came unplanned, and it lasted longer than expected.”
“Och.” Scarlett was excited at once. “We thought ye left early for the fair,” she said warmly, crossing to embrace her again. “Pray tell, did it go well?”
“Aye,” Edith said, something genuine flickering briefly across her face before she caught herself. “Quite well.”
Aaron said nothing. He watched her accept Scarlett and Robert’s pleasant remarks, taking in the easy warmth she showed everyone in the room except him.
It doesnae matter, he reminded himself again, but it helped considerably less than it had the first dozen times.
“Shall we?” Robert asked, gesturing toward the corridor that led out of the castle.
Scarlett looped her arm through Edith’s, already chattering about the stalls they had planned to visit first, and the group began moving toward the entrance.
Aaron fell into step slightly behind them, his jaw still tight, his thoughts still circling back to an embrace that had lasted perhaps three seconds and had somehow managed to occupy the better part of his morning.
Caelan walked alongside him, saying nothing for once, though the look he gave him carried more understanding than Aaron wanted from him.
“Say it,” Aaron muttered, unable to bear the silence any longer.
“Say what?”
“Whatever it is ye’re nae sayin’.”
Caelan’s mouth curved faintly. “I have said nothin’ at all, me Laird.”
“Aye,” Aaron said grimly. “And that is precisely how it should stay.”
Ahead of them, Edith’s laugh carried back faintly on the morning air, bright and entirely unbothered by anything that had happened in the healer’s chamber.
Aaron’s jaw tightened further as they stepped out into the courtyard and headed to a fair he had absolutely no interest in attending.
He suspected the day was going to test his composure considerably more than he was prepared for.