Page 49 of Bride of the Wicked Laird
“I’m afraid I cannae say why they are here. I thought ye were expecting their arrival.”
“Go then and tell them I’ll be with them shortly.” Everard waved his hand in the direction of the slipway. With that, Dunbar turned and beat a hasty retreat, heading back toward the stairs. Clearly, it had dawned on him that his presence there was less than welcome.
Everard took Davina’s hand and raised it to his lips for a gentle kiss. He lifted his head, his eyes roaming her face. All at once, she was shy again, uncomfortably aware of her surroundings, her feet having once again been firmly planted on solid earth.
“Please forgive me, Davina, I must leave ye. I wish it were nae so, but I fear there may be some pressing news. It is nae me braither’s practice tae simply arrive on our doorstep without warning.”
She shrugged her cloak around her, shivering. The sun’s warmth had vanished and brooding dark clouds were rolling in. Everard studied the sky for a moment.
“Mayhap we’ll see a storm this afternoon and Maxwell and Aileen will have tae spend the night at Kiessimul. Will ye dine wi’ us in the solar this evening?”
She bobbed her head, favoring him with a smile. “Aye. That would please me. I look forward tae seeing Aileen and yer braither.” Her voice held steady, which came as somewhat of a surprise.
He tucked her arm through his as they walked toward the stairs. “And dinnae forget tae bring the cat wi’ ye.”
Leaving him at the gate as he headed toward the slipway, she turned to walk across the courtyard to the infirmary, trying and failing wretchedly to erase their kiss from her jumble of thoughts. The feeling of his lips on hers would stay with her forever.
Broderick was there, with Feather. “Where have ye been lass, ‘tis nay like ye tae be gone and leave this one alone?”
There was a hint of admonishment in his tone, so she explained quickly that she’d spent the morning at the practice yard tending to Ulric’s ankle. Her cheeks were burning and she lowered her head to hide her blushing. How could she tell him about the archery contest? Andnevercould she mention the kiss.
She put the basket down on the table and began removing what remained of the jars and the tisane. “We shall need more bandages. Ulric’s a big lad and I strapped his ankle all the way tae the knee fer support.”
Broderick nodded. “Mayhap Jacob will be at the fair when next ye attend and ye will purchase more.”
She was glad of the change in direction of Broderick’s thoughts. She could only imagine his disapproval if he was aware of her dalliance with the laird. Yet she could hardly wait till the evening when she would dine in the solar with Everard again.
The afternoon passed quickly. They were busy dealing with an assortment of cuts and bruises and sore heads and by the time the last of their patients had stepped outside and the door had closed behind them, their small store of supplies – salves and creams and tisanes – was sadly depleted.
Broderick stacked away the jars and bottles, dismay etched on his even features. “Tomorrow I shall have tae make new pastes and prepare tisanes but I have little tae work with. Mayhap ye could sail across the bay tae visit the village midwife and purchase more herbs and seeds. We cannae wait fer the tinker. I shall have tae make what I can, else we’ll nay be able tae provide healing remedies tae our folk.”
He placed the jar of murky water containing a tangle of leeches, on the shelf. “And even these wee creatures are in short supply. I shall have tae send the lad from the village out tae find more.”
Pulse racing, Davina listened to his talk. Could she dare another trip to the village? Without the laird’s company?
She breathed in deeply as the idea took hold. She must become brave enough to face the water without turning into a heap of quivering jelly.
“Aye, Broderick. I shall go across the bay in the morning.” She rubbed her damp hands on her skirt. If she could equal the laird with the bow and arrow, surely, she could learn to take a wee boat the short distance across the bay to the village.
They locked the infirmary door and bade each other goodnight. No sooner had Broderick slipped away to his quarters, leaving Davina and Feather to continue along the path to her cottage, than she spied Mildred hurrying along the path from the keep holding a gown slung over her arm. She waited for Mildred to catch up with her.
“I’ve brought this fer ye.” Mildred held out the gown. “Jonnet sewed the last stitch just now. It’s a right bonny gown and I had it in me head that as ye would be dining with the laird this evening, ye would enjoy it.”
She held the gown up for Davina to see. It was made of the finest, soft, forest-green woolen broadcloth. She’d purchased the length with Everard at the village fair. Its skirt was full, and the sleeves trailed long pointed cuffs. The neckline was much lower than she was used to, but Jonnet had sent a piece of fine lace that could be tucked in for modesty.
Davina inspected the dress and gratefully draped it across her arm. “It’s lovely, Mildred. Thank ye fer yer kind thoughts. I shall wear it tonight tae dine in the solar.”
Her heart jumping at the idea of seeing Everard again, she watched Mildred’s retreating back as the housekeeper returnedto the keep. Despite her warnings, Mildred understood that Davina wanted to look her best.
With Feather perched on her shoulder and the bonny gown on her arm, Davina hummed to herself as she made her way along the path to her cottage. She undid the latch and walked into her little room softly singing a sweet tune.
“Lullay, lullay, la,” the words tumbled out. She loved the sensation of the words on her tongue, although she had no idea where they came from. How did she come to know this gentle lullaby? Had the mother she’d never known sometimes sung it over her cradle?
With the song still on her lips she lit several candles and stoked up her fire. Adding another log, she unwrapped some of the scraps Ailis had sent with Mildred and placed them in Feather’s little clay bowl. She laid it on the floor and Feather wasted no time in devouring the offering.
On the outer edges of her mind, there were always dark, indeterminate shadows lurking. But tonight, she refused to allow them to dampen her newfound sense of wellbeing and detract from the excitement pulsing through her.
Seated in her chair before the fire, drinking a concoction of chamomile, honey and lavender she savored every mouthful. The taste and feel of the laird’s lips on hers and the way he’d traced her tongue with his played over and over through her mind, sending ripples of pleasure coursing through her.
