Page 31 of The Highlander's Virgin Widow
“Is he still in the apothecary?”
“Nay, I dinnae think so,” she answered. “Come help me with this dress.”
As her friend rose from the bed and walked toward her, Keira couldn’t help but wonder if she was handling her new situation the way she should. It wasn’t like she had any model or lessons about this growing up.
As her friend loosened her corset, she prayed desperately that when she returned, this would all be an old story and she would be able to properly put it behind her.
Hopefully, Evander would be able to do the same.
11
Several thoughts raced through Evander’s mind as he made his way back to his quarters, a maelstrom of emotions he couldn’t exactly put into words warring inside him. His hand tightened around the vial she had handed him, the tumultuous battle in his head causing him to trip over a stone.
“Ach!” He let out a curse, feeling a bolt of pain shoot up his foot.
He looked down at the stone, utter disdain written all over his face, before continuing on to his quarters.
He needed to do something, and he needed to do itnow. Something to dispel the thoughts in his head, the unanswered questions she had left him with.
He should not be feeling this way about her, not in the slightest. She was a widow. She belonged to the former Laird, and eventhough the man was dead, Evander planned to make sure it remained that way.
When he pushed open the door to his room, the maid he had called to take care of the baby goat jerked her head up and turned to him. His eyes darted from her nervous face to the baby goat, which was cradled in her arms.
“M’Laird,” she greeted in a meek voice.
“I thought I told ye to leave already.”
“Dinnae be angry, M’Laird. I changed me mind instead and decided to take the goat and?—”
“And what? Return it to the stables so it gets trampled by the horses? Is that it? Or do ye want to return it to its maither?”
“I dinnae?—”
“Where is its maither? Do ye ken?”
“I—”
“So far, I cannae hear anything except mumblings. I told ye I’ll take care of it, and I plan to.”
The maid swallowed and bobbed a quick curtsy. “I apologize, M’Laird. I shall leave ye be.”
“Please,” he grunted.
The maid nodded and walked past him, the nervousness in her voice seeping into her gait, her feet skittering across the floor as she made her way to the door.
“Are ye nae forgetting something?”
The maid swallowed and turned to him. “Nay, M’Laird.”
Evander stared at her, wondering how long it was going to take before she realized it.
It took longer than he had hoped, and from the look of utter fear on her face, he knew it was going to take even longer if he let this go on any further.
“The goat.”
The maid’s eyes flicked to her arms, the baby goat still cradled in them. A low gasp escaped her lips, and she gently lowered the goat to the floor. It scurried across the room and dove right under the bed.
A mild smirk curved Evander’s lips. “Fetch me man-at-arms. Tell him to get me an axe. There is something I need to take care of.”
