Page 43 of Taken By the Devilish Highlander
“Born still,” Holly answered. “Nothing we could have kenned.”
Feya sat quietly as Holly finished planting the small tree. She had thought this process of planting trees was reserved for the children who lived, a reminder of the vibrancy of life. But here she was, planting something for the little babe who had left too soon and planting it in the most sacred of places. As if Holly could read Feya’s mind, she started to speak.
“I’ll tend it for her,” Holly said. She reached a finger out to brush it along the small leaf. “I’ll care for it ’til it’s strong and a bit taller. Until it’s ready to be moved to a new home. And then I’ll bring it back to her, once the shock of pain has worn off and she’s had a chance to mourn. When she might find comfort to ken something physical was done to remember her bairn. ThenI’ll plant it where she can care for it, where she can sit near it and think of what she lost.”
Feya’s eyes filled with tears, and thoughts of her own family floated into her mind. Her longing for them was ever present, but she had gotten good at pressing down the emotion. But something about this loss brought an overwhelming sense of loneliness to her chest. It was the sleepless night and her racing thoughts about Archer, and all her uncertainty about what was growing between them. All of it was catching up to her, and Feya let the tears fall down her cheeks.
Holly sat with her, not saying anything, as if she knew that letting Feya cry would be healing of its own. She listened as Feya sniffed and wiped her eyes, and then, after a few moments, she patted Feya gently on the knee.
They cleaned up the dirt and trowels and brushed the wet earth from their skirts. Feya followed Holly back into the healing chamber, feeling a bit lighter. And then, as the sky brightened further around them, they fell into a quiet routine to prepare for the day.
Feya didn’t appear at breakfast.
Archer tried not to watch the door, anxious to see if she was simply sleeping in, but as the morning progressed, he had to come to terms with the fact that she wouldn’t be appearing. He hadn’t seen her since she left his chamber yesterday, her cheeksstill flushed from sleep. Did she regret what happened between them? Had he somehow scared her away?
He ate his breakfast quickly, treating it like another task to get over with. And even then, he didn’t finish it. He left the table still hungry, unable to sit at that dining table that felt far too empty without Feya beside him.
When Archer arrived at his study, he found Lennox outside of it. The day had started poorly, so he was already in a sour mood. The sight of this troublesome man only made things worse.
“What is it?” Archer asked. He walked by Lennox and shoved into his study, certain the man wouldn’t need an invitation to follow him in.
“I’ve heard something interesting, my Laird,” Lennox said. He seemed genuine, without a hint of judgment in his voice, but Archer wouldn’t be fooled so easily. Still, he wasn’t about to kick the man out. He was a part of his council, after all, and an influential man in his clan.
“Sit,” Archer invited. He took his seat at his desk as Lennox perched on the edge of a chair across from him. “Ye have heard something. From whom?”
“From a source,” Lennox said, evading the question.
“A source ye trust?”
“Aye,” he nodded.
“And who is it?” Archer asked. It was unlikely Lennox would tell him, but Archer had to try. He and Elijah had been working hard to understand the man’s reach, trying to ascertain how far his influence stretched. He couldn’t give up the opportunity to ask him directly.
“There’s more than one,” Lennox said. “There’s chatter in the villages and rumors in the pubs. It’s why I decided to come to ye, my Laird. If many people are speaking of this, ye should ken about it.”
“Aye,” Archer nodded. He was frustrated his own men hadn’t come to him yet. If this rumor was as prevalent as Lennox said, than someone should have brought it to his attention by now. Why else did he had men patrolling the villages? “Tell me.”
“It’s the new Laird McKenzie.”
Mention of Feya’s old clan made Archer sit up straighter.
“Ryder. What of him?”
“Word is he’s taken a wife,” Lennox explained. His words were careful, and Archer couldn’t shake the feeling the man across from him was testing him. It was like he was waiting to see Archer’s reaction, to judge if he asked the right questions.
“This is the shocking news ye bring to me?” Archer asked.
“It’s not any woman,” Lennox continued. “He’s married his faither’s bride. The village girl the old Laird McKenzie claimed for his own.”
Feya’s sister.
“I see,” Archer said, masking his surprise behind an uninterested tone. His mind was already with Feya, knowing she would want to hear about her sister.
“It may be a messenger is already on his way,” Lennox said. “But ye ken rumors fly faster than horses.”
“Aye,” Archer agreed, amused by the man’s wit. “Thank ye for bringing this to me.”
Lennox nodded and stood, ready to take his leave. It was surprising Lennox had brought this to him, since he could very well have kept the information as ammunition. He could have blindsided Archer with this in a council meeting, making him look like an uniformed Laird who didn’t know the current events in the clans around him. Still, this small gesture wasn’t enough to make Archer trust the man.
