Page 59 of Craved By a Highland Beast

Isabeau shrugged a shoulder, opening one of the jars with delicate fingers. “I wished . . . Iwishtae help people. I ken that perhaps I willnae have the chance once I wed, but I will dae it feras long as I can. I’ve seen too many maithers, too many bairns sufferin’. This clan has lost some good, young lasses in labor an’ I want tae put an end tae that.”

Isabeau spoke with such passion, such conviction, that it was difficult for Bonnie—or for anyone else, she suspected—to remain unmoved by her words. She wasn’t doing this because she was in need of gold. She was only eager to help other, to ease some of the pain of her people.

“I wish there were more people like ye in the world,” Bonnie said, meaning every word. Isabeau smiled and the two of them fell into a silence that was surprisingly comfortable for two women who had only just met each other. Bonnie’s thoughts drifted to Evan once more, thinking about all the similarities he shared with Isabeau, but also all the differences between them. Her mere appearance radiated a certain calmness, one which seeped right into Bonnie and gave her some comfort in the midst of all this grief and chaos.

She seemed to be perceptive, too, as she said, “Me brother . . . he came into his power very suddenly. There are many things he doesnae yet ken how tae handle. Afore our parents’ death, nae one o’ us thought he would have tae take our faither’s place so soon. But he did an’ he hasnae even had a chance tae mourn them.”

Bonnie knew that to be true, but it didn’t ease the ache in her chest at the thought that he had lied to her so blatantly, so carelessly. She wasn’t about to share with Isabeau that he had bedded her, but that was the one thing she could not look past—despite his reassurances, he had taken his pleasure from her when he knew they could never wed. Instead of promising her that he would speak to his council, he could have admitted that he was already betrothed to someone else. Had Bonnie known that, she wouldn’t have given him her virtue.

“I ken that,” Bonnie said, forcing a small smile to her lips as she nodded. “I dae. I ken it’s difficult fer him, more so than fer many other men in his position.”

I only wish it wasnae so.

Bonnie didn’t speak those words out loud, nor did she say anything else on the matter. She didn’t want to burden Isabeau with her own pain, nor did she think it proper to tell her everything about her relationship with her brother, no matter how easy it already was to talk to her.

I suppose that is somethin’ they all have in common . . . they make ye feel at home.

Once Isabeau had finished cleaning and bandaging the wound, Bonnie pulled her dress over her shoulder once more, reaching for her hand. “Thank ye,” she said. “It feels much better now.”

“Does it hurt?” Isabeau asked, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before she cleaned up the table. It was spotless, Bonnie noted, and she wondered if Isabeau allowed maids in this room or if she kept it like this herself. She knew how possessive healers could be of their spaces, how they disliked anything being out of place—whether that place was on a shelf or strewn over the floor.

“It does, but it comes an’ goes,” said Bonnie. “If I’m nae careful an’ try tae move me right hand, there’s much pain.”

“Let us see . . .” Isabeau looked through her shelves, eventually picking a small bottle and handing it to Bonnie. “This will help with the pain. Place three drops in yer tea twice a day. An’ if it gets worse or if ye run a fever, ye must see me immediately.”

This is a lass who has also lost her parents. An’ yet she seems so strong.

Stronger than her brothers even, perhaps. Ever since Bonnie had met Evan and Alaric, the two of them had been visibly fraying at the edges, slowly coming apart under the pressures of their clan. Isabeau may not have had the same pressures, but she, too, had gone through much and Bonnie could understand all of it. She, too, had gone through the same thing, after all. Surely, Isabeau felt the pressure of being the perfect daughter, of honoring her parents’ memory. It was more than likely that she would end up in an unwanted marriage, one which would soon come.

“Come,” Isabeau said, offering her hand once more with a smile, and Bonnie couldn’t help but think she would be a ray of sun in this gloomy time. “There is much I must show ye.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Evan paced back and forth outside Bonnie’s chambers, all the frustration of the past few days clouding his mind like a thick fog. He had tried approaching her in the gardens only for her to slip away from him. He had tried talking to her in the library, in the great hall, even in the stables where he managed to corner her by chance, but Bonnie kept refusing to speak to him, either outright ignoring him and walking away or managing to evade him at the very last moment.

But now she was in her chambers. Evan had watched her enter and he had proceeded to follow, reaching the door just after she shut it.

He came to a halt, hard gaze fixed on the carved wood of the door. Vines decorated its surface, twisting and twinning in dizzying patterns. It was the first time Evan had stood there so long, staring at that door, and now he thought it was a shame that he was about to ruin it.

He took a deep breath and a few steps backwards, muscles tensing in preparation. Then, he threw himself right at the door.

A shriek sounded from inside the room, but Evan barely heard it over the buzz in his ears, the pain of the impact radiating down his right side. Maybe it hadn’t been a very good idea, in retrospect, but he wasn’t going to give up. With a growl, he threw himself at the door again, the hinges budging under his weight but not yet breaking. He didn’t know what would break first—the door or his arm.

One last time, Evan threw himself at the door and this time, splinters flew around him as he broke both the lock and one of the hinges. At the other side, he found Bonnie standing near the bed, a candelabra clutched tightly in her hands as she stared at him, wide-eyed.

“What are ye doin’?” she demanded, voice high and thin with terror. “I thought someone was comin’ tae kill me!”

“In me castle?” Evan asked in disbelief, as if the mere thought was ridiculous. “Nae one will harm ye here.”

“Ye broke the door! Ye could have harmed me!”

Evan hadn’t thought about that. His goal had been to get in the room, and so he did. “Aye, I suppose I could have,” he admitted. “I am sorry, Bonnie. I only wished tae speak with ye.”

“An’ so ye decided tae break down me door?” Bonnie’s cheeks were flushed a deep red, her knuckles bone-white where she was still gripping the candelabra. Slowly, she put it down and collapsed on the bed, face in her hands as she breathed deeply. “Ye scared me half tae death.”

Evan looked down, avoiding her gaze. He had been so eager to talk to her that he hadn’t quite thought about the consequences of breaking down the door, other than to make a mental note to have it repaired later. Now he stood by the broken door awkwardly, unsure of what to do or say.

“Well?” Bonnie asked, looking up at him. “Yer here now an’ ye broke a door tae speak tae me. So speak.”

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