Page 57 of A Wife for the Highland Villain
“Aye, me Lady,” Daisy whispered.
Lily stepped out of the hall, and the doors closed behind her. The air outside was cool against her hot skin, and she pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and looked up at the sky. The clouds were heavy as usual, but she paid them no mind.
Her steps echoed across the pathway as she moved to the gates. She paused once and looked back at the hall, hoping that she didn’t forget anything. When she was certain she could keep moving, she pushed forward.
Her eyes remained peeled on the path as she passed through the gates. The forest opened before her, and the smell of damp earth and pine filled her nostrils. The trees stretched tall before her, and she walked between them, clutching her basket tightly.
Hopefully, she would find the root she was looking for quickly.
Her skirts brushed against undergrowth, and she knelt once to touch a patch of pale flowers, but they were not what she was looking for. She rose again and kept walking.
The forest was rich; that much was evident. Flowers bloomed in every corner, and mushrooms clung to fallen logs. She could see a few plants with similar features and bent to them, her fingers brushing the leaves. The roots of the plants gave off a bitter smell, but it was wrong. Not tormentil.
She sighed and moved on, her eyes scanning the ground. Her steps settled into a rhythm, and for a brief moment, she forgot the council, forgot Alasdair’s sharp gaze, forgot the weight in her chest.
Here she was, only a healer, searching the earth for what could save a life.
She crouched by the roots of a great oak. The ground was damp. Her fingers brushed a cluster of small leaves hugging the base. She leaned down, sniffed, and felt her lips curve.
Bitter, earthy, sharp. She had found it.
Her relief lasted only a heartbeat. A rustle in the woods told her she was no longer alone.
Lily froze, her heart leaping in her chest. She slowly rose to her feet, her eyes darting between the trees. The calm of the forest broke at once, and the air grew thick.
“Who is there?” she called, her voice firm, though her hand trembled at her side.
She wasn’t just uncomfortable now. She wasterrified.
CHAPTER 18
The trees shook behind her,and a shiver ran through her.
Her heart thudded against her ribs as she turned. She caught a figure leaning against a tall pine tree, half shrouded in shadow. When her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw him clearly.
For the love of God.
Alasdair stood there, his arms folded across his chest, his broad shoulders taking up the space as if he owned even the forest. The last thing Lily noticed was his belt and the sword attached to it.
“Good Lord!” she cried, clutching at her chest. “Must ye frighten me like that? Why could ye nae announce yer presence normally?”
The grey in his eyes shone with amusement. “What are ye doing out here all alone,wife?”
Her shock turned into irritation.
She straightened her spine and narrowed her eyes at him. “What amIdoing? What areyedoing here?”
He pushed off the tree and came closer, his strides long and steady. “I saw ye from the tower. Ye slipped through the gates as quietly as a shadow, and I thought ye were escaping again. I couldnae let that happen, ye ken?”
She rolled her eyes so hard that her head nearly tilted. “Escaping? In the middle of the afternoon? I may be restless, Alasdair, but I am nae daft.”
He cocked his head. “I suppose I just assumed ye were crazy enough to try it.”
Lily pressed her lips together and chose not to answer.
He could think whatever he pleased; she had no time to correct him. Instead, she crouched again and pulled at the roots with firm hands.
“I am out here to pick herbs. That is all. Nothing more.”
