Under the Highlander's Spell(49)

Her small sack was on the bed, and she opened it, shaking out the only other skirt and blouse she had brought with her. She hung them on a peg near the door, then shook out her plain linen nightdress and laid it on the bed.

Zia couldn’t discard her garments fast enough once the tub was filled, and shooed the young girls away with a wave, insisting that she preferred to tend to her own needs.

It didn’t take long for the steaming water to penetrate her flesh and soothe her weary and aching bones. She washed her hair and body quickly before the water cooled, and barely rested her head back on the rim when she began to doze off. She jolted awake and told herself to get out and go to bed. She was bone-tired, and if she didn’t get out would fall asleep there, which wasn’t a good idea. It wouldn’t do having her pretend-husband find her like that, naked in the tub.



After the hall emptied, Artair was left at the table with Cavan. He thought his brother would want to wait until morning to speak with him, but when Honora had gone to bed without her husband, Artair knew that Cavan wished to talk.

“You have made a good match,” his brother said. “And one that will benefit our clan. I am happy for you and proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Artair replied, though knew soon enough he would have to confide the truth to Cavan. “It would have been better if I had returned with Ronan.”

Cavan didn’t agree or disagree. Instead he asked, “What did you learn of him?”

Artair shared the news, and Cavan shook his head.

“Why would Ronan leave the place that saw to his care and safety?” Cavan asked.

“I don’t know, and neither does Zia or her grandmother Bethane.”

“Are you sure of that?” Cavan asked skeptically.

Artair took no offense to his brother’s question. After all, it was a practical one. “I asked the same myself, but from what I learned of the village Black and the people, I couldn’t see any reason for anyone to keep the truth from me.” He shook his head. “Though…”

“You feel you weren’t told the whole of it?”

“There remains a nagging doubt,” Artair confirmed.

“And the other question that remains is, if Ronan left the village of his own volition, why hasn’t he returned home?”

“I’ve wondered over that myself. Perhaps wherever he went, he continues to heal, and once fully healed he’ll return to us.”

Cavan shook his head. “Something about the whole thing doesn’t sit right with me. I feel as you do. We haven’t been told the whole of it. Someone is leaving something out—and on purpose.”

“Do you refer to my wife?” Artair asked, again not taking offense. His brother’s duty was to protect the clan.

“I like your wife, and after telling us of the troubles she has faced due to her healing skills, I’d say she’s a brave woman.”

“Sometimes foolish,” Artair said with a laugh.

“What woman isn’t?”

“I wouldn’t let your wife hear you say that.”

Cavan laughed along with his brother before his tone once again turned serious. “I am truly grateful that you have wed such a gifted healer, though it is selfish on my part. I worry about Honora. She continues to not feel well and has fainted twice since you’ve been gone. I feel better with a skillful healer being here.”

“Zia is a remarkable and diligent healer. I’ve seen it with my own eyes, which is why she has been accused of witchcraft.”

“The clan will keep her safe, though it is better she remain on Sinclare land until the whole matter is settled,” Cavan said, then lowered his voice, though no one was about. “It makes no sense that Ronan left the village where he was cared for.”

“I thought the same myself. Why leave a safe place?”

“Something forced his departure,” Cavan said.

“I do not think Zia or Bethane had a hand in it. Their concern is to heal.”

“Then as it seems you suspect, there is more to Ronan’s departure from the village Black than you have been told.”

“True enough, but what reason could there be for keeping any pertinent news of Ronan from his family?”

The answer struck him before Cavan could answer.

“Zia is trying to protect us from something.”





Chapter 18




Artair entered his bedchamber quietly, not wanting to wake Zia, who he was certain was sound asleep. He stopped short when he saw her in the tub, her head back, a snoring purr coming from her lips. An arm and a leg were hanging over the rim, as if she had fallen asleep while getting out of the tub.

He had to smile. She looked sweet and delectable, and he’d love to devour her, but not yet. In time she would come to understand that their union     would benefit them both, and commit to a proper one—the marriage he had suggested to her more than once.