Page 37 of The Highlander's Virgin Widow
“Ye’re nae alone there,” Keira sighed.
As the sky darkened, they made their way through the woods they had come from and the path they had walked earlier, and very soon, they were both back in the castle.
“I shall put this put in some water,” Lesley announced and made her way to the apothecary.
Keira nodded and waved her off. Then, she heard it.
Loud digging sounds, like someone was using a pickaxe to dig into the ground.
Her eyes narrowed as she followed the sound to the Great Hall and the other side. That was when she foundhim.
Not only was he standing in the middle of the biggest mess she had seen in quite a while, but he was also drenched in sweat.
“What in God’s name are ye doing? Do ye want to destroy the castle as well?” she gasped, her eyes flicking to the stones scattered across the passageway.
“Nay. Ye’re quite welcome, by the way,” he responded, and then and only then, as he moved closer to her, did she see what he had been doing.
He had dug out all the stones one could trip over out of the ground.
Later when she retired to her room, her head throbbed as several thoughts bombarded her. He wanted to host a cèilidh and hoped she would find a husband. What if she didn’t? Worse, what if shecouldn’t?
As the sky turned a navy blue and the stars came out, Keira was still deep in thought, wondering what this could all possibly lead to.
What if she couldn’t find a husband because there was already a man she wanted?
13
Evander returned to his room, his shirt still clinging to his chest. The cold evening breeze was just beginning to stream into the room, and a wave of mild relief swept over his body.
For some reason, a part of him wished that Keira had appreciated the work he’d done in the passageway more.
Dinnae be ridiculous. Ye werenae doing it for her, in the first place.
But as the thought lingered, he knew he was only deceiving himself and no one else. He had done it for her. At least part of him had.
Angry questions taunted him as he moved about his room, his eyes narrowed as he searched for fresh clothes.
He took off his shirt and let it drop to the floor. Then, he moved to the wardrobe in the corner, yanked out clean clothes, and placed them on his bed.
He needed to take a bath. No one needed to tell him that. But for now, he would relax and luxuriate in the cold water if that was all he could afford.
He cleared his throat and took off his trousers, the cold air biting his calves and thighs. Standing bare before the bed, he grabbed his trousers and reached into the left pocket. Soon, he pulled it out—the purple vial Keira had given him earlier.
“‘Tis a bathing oil. For ye.”
He could still remember how soft her voice had grown when she handed it to him.
Why would she give him some bathing oil in the first place? Did she also feel what he felt? Was she worth pursuing, the widow?
He tightened his grip on the vial and sighed again.
A bleat jerked him out of his thoughts, and the baby goat crawled out from underneath his bed. He looked down at it, feeling a pang of worry in his chest.
“Ye cannae be that comfortable here, can ye? Ye need grass and the fields.”
He swallowed and stared at the goat, who seemed to stare back at him for a minute. Evander would find a home for it tomorrow. He was too tired to do anything else today.
The thought alone made the back of his arms ache.
