Page 21 of Highlander's Battle of Hearts

Chapter Nine

Blair

Blair stared out the window, her hand on the curtain, holding it back while she watched the soldiers practice in the courtyard. The clouds hung low in the sky, and the rain was coming down hard. The men continued their sword practice, not minding the rain soaking their tartans nor the mud splashing against their skin as they clanged their swords against each other. Their shouts of attack echoed throughout the stone walls of Castle Lachlan. Their hair clung to their pallid faces. The air was frigid for a summer’s day, chilling Blair’s skin, yet her attention remained focused on one man fighting in the courtyard.

She sighed, leaning against the wall next to her, pressing her temple against the stone’s cold, smooth surface while she watched Aindreas lunge towards his opponent. His tartan hung around his waist while water dripped from his hair down to his bare shoulders. Her face heated, watching the droplets slip down over his flesh, and she couldn’t help but remember their night in the garden a week ago. She recalled his arms around her, the strength of his muscles under her fingertips, the soft caress of his lips against her forehead. Her lips parted at the memory. She pressed a hand against her nape, trying to calm the heat creeping up her neck.

She watched Aindreas smack his blade against his opponent’s sword, knocking it from his hand before pointing the tip at his opponent’s neck. The soldier kneeled before Aindreas, raising his hands in surrender. Blair watched Aindreas push his hair away from his face, looking around before his eyes settled on her.

Blair lifted a hand, twiddling her fingers while an awkward smile took hold of her lips. Aindreas did and said nothing, only turning away. He strode through the mud towards his next adversary, his back facing her as if he never saw her to begin with. Her smile dipped into a deep frown, and she scowled at the back of his head, wondering what in the heavens had she done to acquire his ire. Or perhaps, it wasn’t quite anger she felt from him, but more coldness, as if they had never shared a moment in the garden together like she was below him in every way imaginable.

Blair furrowed her brow, knowing it was the truth; she was below him in station. However, she thought they could move forward since that night. She sighed, recalling every time they were in the same room together, Aindreas would leave without uttering a single word of acknowledgment. She remembered just the other day when she had gone to the chapel in the morn to say her prayers. Blair had found Aindreas leaving the confessional. His eyes had widened in alarm upon seeing her on the benches, yet rather than saying ‘good morn’ as was polite, he had quickly looked the other way and stalked past her.

And that was not all.

The morning after their meeting in the garden, she saw him in the great hall, breaking his fast while discussing politics with the village speakers. Blair had thought it polite to wish him a good day, but as soon as his eyes met hers, he had quickly excused himself and left before she could open her mouth.

It was almost as if he loathed her very presence.

Blair’s hand gripped the curtain, tempted to draw them and return to her lessons, but she couldn’t tear her gaze off Aindreas as he moved into a fighting stance. Passion filled his eyes. His muscles were pulled taut. She wanted to rush down there and demand to know why he was avoiding her. She wanted to ask him what she had done wrong. Her nights were filled with wondering what she had said, and she couldn’t find anything impolite in her demeanor.

“Blair,” Tavis’s voice made her jump, and she quickly turned away from the window, feeling her face flush in embarrassment at being caught. Tavis had left her to read from his book on herbs in order to speak with Cook. Instead, she had dawdled her time away in front of the window.

Blair’s heart pounded in her chest, and she pressed a hand against it while a smile pulled at Tavis’s lips. “Did I frighten you, Child?” he asked while moving towards the table, setting down a platter of tea and biscuits.

She gave a slight nod, hoping he wouldn’t press her with any more questions.

“Were ye able to discover any other uses for Lemon Balm?”

Blair grimaced and lowered her gaze while she shook her head. “My apologies, Tavis, I did not. I’m afraid the—“ She bit her bottom lip, trying to think of some excuse to say that wouldn’t be quite a lie. “Scenery distracted me.” Blair cringed. It wasn’t quite a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth. She certainly couldn’t let Tavis know who exactly she had been distracted by.

“The scenery?” Tavis asked, and her gaze lifted as she heard footsteps coming her way.

Tavis grabbed the curtain, pushing it back and looking out the window at the rain pouring down. The grass appeared saturated in the distance while the clouds were hanging so low they might kiss the ground. Blair gripped her hands to keep herself from fidgeting, hoping Tavis would accept her excuse and continue on with her lessons.

The old man chuckled and pulled at his beard. “Ah, yes, the scenery is quite nice indeed.” He turned towards her, a knowing look gleaming in his eyes while he raised an eyebrow. “I suppose I should accept a bonnie lass like yerself is likely to get distracted by such handsome scenery.”

Blair’s shoulders tensed, and she didn’t think it possible for her face to heat anymore, but it felt like the fires of Hell were burning her from the inside out. “I should return to my studies at once,” she said while picking up her skirts and brushing past Tavis towards her seat at the table. She nearly stumbled into her chair, her hip banging against the edge, making the teacups rattle. Her gaze focused on the page before her, displaying a picture of white flowers with Lemon Balm written at the top. “My apologies, Tavis.” She quickly read his notes, silently wishing she hadn’t been so foolish. Why was she fussing over Aindreas MacBean when the laird needed her aid? The laird had provided her with so much.

What had Aindreas ever done for her?

She brushed her hair away from her face. “I’m not so often easily distracted, I assure ye,” she said harshly, her hands gripping the armrests. “I haven’t been sleeping well as of late.” Which was the truth, she told herself, since her nights were filled with wondering why Aindreas was avoiding her.

“Don’t fret, Child,” said Tavis while striding towards her. “I was young once.”

“I will ensure I get proper rest tonight.” Blair nodded vigorously while smiling brightly at the book. “Ye shouldn’t worry.”

Tavis chuckled. “I’m not.” Blair lifted her gaze, finding the old man pulling at his beard while watching her. “How ‘bout I have Ronda send up some lavender tea tonight? Eh? That should help ye get the rest ye need.”

Blair smiled brightly. “That would be wonderful. Thank ye, Tavis.” She pointed at the white flowers in the book. “Lemon Balm can also improve sleep.”

Tavis nodded. “Very good.”

“It’s also useful in healing toothaches, head pains, and wounds.”

Tavis chuckled. “It can be useful in matters of the heart, as well. Sometimes I give it as a tea to those suffering from loss.” He tilted his head to the side, his gaze focused on the book while he slumped forward. “I’ve given it to young Aindreas before.”

Blair straightened in her chair. She hated to admit it, but her interest was caught. “Why?” she found herself asking, instantly wishing she could take back that one word. Aindreas didn’t want anything to do with her. She shouldn’t be asking about him, but she was curious. Something within her cared about Aindreas.

---