Page 82 of The Laird's Vengeful Desire
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Ihope ye dinnae mind me speakin’ plainly, but I need tae talk with ye.”
Rhona looked up from the herbs she’d been grinding, startled by the soft knock and even more surprised to find Olivia standing hesitantly in the doorway of Baird’s apothecary.
“Of course,” Rhona said carefully, setting down her pestle gently. “Please, come in.”
Olivia entered with graceful steps, her blue dress rustling softly against the stone floor beneath her feet. She moved with the unconscious elegancy of nobility, but there was something raw in her expression that made Rhona’s defensive walls lower slightly.
“I hope I’m nae intrudin’ on important work,” Olivia said, glancing at the scattered herbs and vials on the table.
“Nay, just… keepin’ me hands busy.” Rhona replied honestly. “Sometimes it helps me think.”
“Och, Aye. I can understand that. Forgive me candidness, but I’ve been watchin’ ye, Rhona. The way ye look at Ian. And I’ve also seen the way he looks at ye, like ye’re somethin’ precious he’s terrified of losin’.”
Heat flooded Rhona’s cheeks. “I dinnae ken what ye mean.”
“That’s what I’ve always hoped he might look at me like, ye ken,” Olivia said quietly. “I’ve loved Ian Wallace since I was barely more than a lass. But the moment I laid me eyes on ye, I knew I’d been foolin’ meself fer years. He’s never looked at me – or anyone else – the way he looks at ye.”
Rhona felt tears prick at her eyes. “Olivia, I’m sorry. I never meant tae–”
“Dinnae apologize.” Olivia’s tone was firm. “Ye cannae help how ye feel any more than I can.”
“But ye dinnae understand,” Rhona said desperately. “I’m nae… I’m nae free tae feel anythin’ fer anyone… me situation here, ‘tis complicated.”
“Is it?” Olivia tilted her head, studying Rhona with surprising intensity. “Because from where I stand, it looks like two people who care deeply fer each other but are too stubborn, or too scared tae admit it.”
“I thought… I thought ye’d hate me.” Rhona admitted.
“Hate ye?” Olivia looked genuinely surprised. “Rhona, I’ve spent enough time watchin’ Ian tae ken the difference between polite affection and what’s between the two of ye. Ian Wallace is thoroughly besotted with ye, and I think ye feel the same way about him.”
Rhona blinked at her, unsure of what to say.
“’Tis clear ye share somethin’ special,” Olivia continued kindly, “I could tell the moment I saw ye both this mornin’.”
“Ye’re bein’ remarkably gracious about all of it,” Rhona said finally.
“I’ve had years tae practice acceptin’ disappointment where Ian is concerned,” Olivia replied with rueful humor. “Besides, Ian’s a good man – one of the best I’ve ever come across. If ye have his heart, ye’re luckier than ye realize.”
“I dinnae think I dae have his heart,” Rhona said quietly.
“Then ye’re blind as well as stubborn,” Olivia quipped with surprising firmness. “The man can barely take his eyes off ye long enough tae hold a proper conversation with anyone else.”
Before Rhona could respond, a sharp knock at the door interrupted them. Both women turned as Rhona called, “Come in.”
To her surprise, it was Tristan who entered, his face grimmer than usual. He paused when he saw Olivia, offering her a respectful nod before focusing his attention on Rhona.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, me lady” he said formally, “But if ye care about the laird – and I believe ye dae – ye need tae go tae him. Now.”
Rhona’s heart clenched with horror. “What’s happened? Is he hurt?”
“Nae hurt,” Tristan said carefully, “but… circumstances have arisen that require… delicate handlin’. He’s gone.”
“Where?” Rhona was already moving toward the door, her pulse racing furiously.
“Last I saw he was headin’ fer the stables, taken Dubh. He didnae say where, but I reckon he’s gone somewhere he can think clearly without distractions.”
Rhona paused in the doorway, her mind racing.Where have ye gone?
