Page 36 of The Laird's Vengeful Desire
Only then, with stone walls between her and the rest of the world, did she allow herself to acknowledge the awful truth that had been building in her chest like a gathering storm.
He was right, she thought bitterly, pressing her forehead against the cool stone of the window. The admission felt like swallowing glass, but she couldn’t deny it any longer. Her father would demand blood for her dishonor, and countless innocents would die for it. And it was all her fault. Had she not gone to look for Isolde, none of this would have happened.
But that didn’t make her captivity any easier to bear. That didn’t make Ian’s harsh words sting any less. She was caught between two impossible choices, with no clear path forward. Worse still, she was starting to grow fond of the man who held her captive – and that caring would surely be her downfall if she let it take root.
Think, Rhona!
She commanded herself, moving to stare out at the moonlit courtyard below.There has tae be another way… there’s always another way…
But as she stood there in the darkness, watching torchlight flicker across empty stones, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the walls of her cage were growing more confined with each passing day – and that time was running out faster than she dared to imagine.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Hold still, lass. This might sting a wee bit.”
Rhona delicately cleaned the angry red welt on the blacksmith’s daughter’s palm, her movements sure and practiced despite the girl’s nervous fidgeting. The small cottage smelled of herbs and woodsmoke, with morning light streaming in through a single window to illuminate her work. Outside, she could hear the steady ring of hammer on anvil as Roderick MacBride continued his trade.
“There now, Kenna,” Rhona murmured, applying a poultice of comfrey and yarrow to the wound. “That’s the worst of it. This’ll draw out any infection and help it heal proper.”
Baird watched from across the small room, his weathered face creased with approval. “Aye. Exactly what I would have done. Though I wouldnae have been near so tender about it.”
“Gentleness costs naethin’.” Rhona replied, skillfully wrapping the girl’s hand with clean linen strips. “And it makes the healin’ go smoother fer everyone.”
The older healer nodded thoughtfully. “Ye have a real gift fer this work, lass. ‘Tis more than just kennin’ which herbs tae use – ye have the kind of touch that makes folk trust ye.”
“Thank ye,” she said, securing the bandage with practiced efficiency. “I appreciate the compliment more than ye ken.”
Young Kenna flexed her fingers experimentally, then smiled up at Rhona with the uncomplicated gratitude of a child. “It feels much better already. Will ye come back tae check on it?”
“If I can.” Rhona promised with a soft smile, though the words carried a bitter edge.
Why did he agree tae let me come?
She wondered it, not for the first time that day. The contradiction puzzled her – Ian the captor versus Ian the man who seemed genuinely concerned for her wellbeing.
Still, it was only the second time since her capture she’d been beyond the castle walls, and unlike her previous outing to the waterfall, today had purpose beyond mere respite. The simple pleasure of breathing free air while doing meaningful work, of seeing new faces and helping people who needed her skills, had been utterly intoxicating. Even under guard, even knowing shewas still a prisoner, she felt more alive than she had been since her capture.
“Right then,” Baird said, packing his supplies back into his worn leather satchel. “We’ve still got old Dougal’s rheumatism tae see tae, and young Morag’s expectin’ her first bairn any day now.”
They spent the rest of the morning making their rounds – checking on the village’s sick and injured, dispensing remedies and advice with the comfortable authority of long-standing practice. Rhona felt herself drawn to the work with an enthusiasm that surprised her. There, finally, was something she could do well, something that mattered beyond politics and clan alliances.
By the time they returned to the castle the sun was setting, and Rhona felt more centered than she had in weeks. Even the guards had relaxed their vigilance as the day progressed, clearly seeing that she had no intention of fleeing when there was meaningful work to be done.
“Thank ye fer invitin’ me today,” she told Baird as they dismounted in the castle courtyard. “I hadnae realized how much I missed it.”
“Missed what?”
“Bein’ useful.”
“Ye’re more than useful, lass. Ye’re gifted.” Baird shouldered his satchel, studying her with those keen eyes that seemed to see more than most. “I’d be glad tae have ye as a proper apprentice, if things work out.”
If things work out.
Always the qualifier, always the reminder that her life was not her own to choose.
As they parted ways in the castle’s main hall, Rhona found herself hesitating. They day had been good – wonderful, actually – though her mind had kept drifting back to Ian despite her best efforts to focus on her work. Now the familiar weight of her situation was settling back onto her shoulder like a heavy cloak. The long hours until morning stretched ahead of her, filled with the kind of restless thoughts that had been plaguing her since her arrival.
“Baird,” she called quietly, catching the healer before he could disappear into depths of the castle. “Might ye have somethin’ fer sleepin’? I’ve been havin’ some trouble lately.”
