Page 19 of The Highlander's Virgin Widow
One of the conditions of surrender was that he was not to replace the staff, and he had agreed. Now that he was in the castle and was seeing everything as clear as day, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had been too hasty in agreeing to that condition.
The maid finished, dipped into a curtsy, and asked if he would need anything else for the night.
“That will be all,” he responded.
He watched her exit the room, leaving him to his thoughts once again.
He lay on the bed, and his mind drifted to what had happened mere minutes ago. Keira demanding that he leave the room, her hands pushing him away before she went to open the door and spoke to her friend.
She was, for all intents and purposes, a potential threat he needed to neutralize or, at the very least, monitor. So why couldn’t he think of her that way? Why did the mere thought of her face—he could picture her long brown curls and her bright hazel eyes—make him feel… unsettled?
The question lingered in the air and remained unanswered as he sank further into the mattress, feeling his muscles relax and finally drifting off to sleep, the moonlight settling precariously on his face.
The next morning, Keira did not come down for breakfast.
“She’s nae feeling well,” Stella, her maid, had explained as the other maids placed food on the table.
Evander narrowed his eyes at her. “She’s nae feeling well?”
“Aye, M’Laird,” Stella responded.
Evander didn’t need to think too hard to know that wasn’t true. Lady Blythe was hiding from him, but she couldn’t do that forever. One way or another, they were going to have to talk, and she would have to vacate the room for him. How she was going to do that would completely depend on her.
“We’re riding out this morning,” he said to Rory, watching him munch on a stick of cheese.
“Is there anyone we are going to see?”
“I dinnae want to get cooped up yet, but I suppose we can check in on Shona and Tommy.”
“I shall saddle the horses.”
“Ye are going with us too,” Evander added, shifting his gaze to Hudson.
Hudson, who had a piece of bread in his mouth, narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Me?”
“I suppose the lady of the castle will want to keep an eye on us, does she nae?”
Hudson nodded, chewing on the bread.
Evander then turned to Stella, who remained by the table throughout breakfast. “Tell Lady Blythe that I wish her a speedy recovery. And I am certain she will be feeling better by the time we return.”
Stella nodded, a hint of anxiety crossing her face for the briefest of seconds.
Evander stepped away from his table and marched out of the castle, straight toward the stables, where the horses were waiting. The ride out was quick and easy. The wind was favorable, and it blew ever so gently on his face.
One of his favorite things to do was ride. He did it whenever he needed to clear his head or just go on a joyride around the castle. It did make sense that he was one of the best—if not the best—riders in his clan. Rory and Hudson tried their best to catch upto him, but no matter how hard they tried, he kept overtaking them.
“Is he always like this?” he had heard Hudson ask Rory as they rode through the woods, and he slowed his horse to make sure they caught up to him.
“Ye havenae the faintest idea,” Rory had responded, a smile spreading across his face.
Once they were out on the moors, Evander urged his horse to gallop as fast as he could. He was certain that at some point, Rory and Hudson stopped trying to catch up to him and trailed behind him instead.
He did not mind that. He needed space anyway. He rode past the market and the village, following through on his promise to see Shona and her son. However, he was informed that his sister-in-law had gone to the fields to tend to some plants and had offered to return some other time.
He surveyed the market, letting more questions he still could not find the answers to filter into his mind. There were a lot of things at play. Things he was unable to quite figure out. Like the strange man he had killed in the woods and how the fire itself had started.
He had recognized the tartan, and he knew it belonged to Clan Blythe. The more he thought about it, the more confused he got. So he decided to voice his thoughts as they returned to the castle, letting their horses walk rather than gallop.
