“Lass,” he said. “A lie is a bitter dram that eats away a man’s gut. I avoid them at all cost.”
“I’ve known men to have strong guts, then.” Her arms dropped, and her fingers caught the deep grooves of the bark behind her. Evelyn inhaled the cold night air through her nose. She stared into his eyes, but they sat in shadow, impossible to read.
He did not look away. “I did not lie to ye last night.”
“How do I know if your answer is not just another lie?” she asked on a whisper, wishing she could see him speak in the light. Lies were easier said in darkness, as if someone could hide their heart in the shadows. Evelyn felt like they stood on both ends of a double-ended sword, her point aimed directly over her pounding heart.
“If ye don’t believe my words, believe this,” he said, and pulled her away from the tree, into his arms.
…
Grey’s blood pumped through him with the fervor of battle. But this battle was like nothing he’d ever fought before. He could not wield a sword or mace to cleave the pain he heard in Evelyn’s anger.
So stiff, her softness from the night before had frozen to brittleness. Feel me, he willed, his mouth slanting against her tight lips. His hands stroked down her back as he poured the heat he felt into his kiss. His hands came up to slide into her hair, gently parting her tresses with his fingers.
Like a mountain waterfall in spring, Evelyn’s mouth softened little by little, her lips opening under his kiss. The grip in his gut began to relax as she shed the stiffness in her shoulders, her body leaning slightly toward him, accepting his press against her. His hands moved to cup her cheeks, and he slowly pulled back to lean his forehead against hers. “Feel the truth in my touch, lass. Nothing last night was a lie.”
She remained there in his grasp, their heads gently against each other. “Do you want me to fail, Grey? My school?” She took a step back, and he let his hands slip from her face.
“Nay,” he said and felt in his very soul that it was the truth. “But for the sake of my clan and my pride, lass, I want Finlarig back.”
Grey watched her in the shadows, the glow from Rebecca’s window splashing across her smooth face as she weighed his words. Her hair lay over one shoulder, making her look like a simple Highland lass. Though nothing about Evelyn Worthington was simple, from her heritage and determination to keep his ancestral home to the hold she was beginning to have on him.
“I am sorry for that, Grey,” she said, and he could feel her pull away from him even if she didn’t take a step. “But these people need a school, and Finlarig is a perfect place for it. I would never bar your clan from Finlarig if it is needed for their protection, which is why I haven’t questioned your order to reinforce the defenses around the castle, including a toothy maw for a gate.”
The clever lass had noticed all his preparations for war. She paused as if waiting for his response, but what could he say? The crunch of pebbles along the path saved him, and he turned, drawing his sword. Izzy and her sister hurried out of the woods, breathless.
“I have come,” Cat said in Gaelic. “I was on the bank of Loch Tay seeing to a birth, but the babe is not ready to come.”
Cat frowned at Evelyn and turned to Rebecca’s door, which opened as if Rebecca had been standing there listening. Evelyn stepped out from around Grey and followed Cat and Izzy inside. Grey scratched a path through his hair, settling his large hand to rub at the ache that had started again at the back of his skull. Blast this bloody mess.
Rebecca started talking rapidly as she ushered Cat over to Aiden. “The Sassenach’s book says to use slime from snails on the burns,” Rebecca said, pointing to the medical book that lay open on a table near the bed.
“It speaks of snail slime in this?” Cat asked.
“Aye, somewhere on that page. There are pictures throughout, but I can’t cipher what the letters say,” Rebecca answered.
Evelyn came up beside them, pointing to the paragraph that held the information on healing burns. “It is right here. If you come up to attend school at the castle, I’ll teach you to read all of this.” Her voice sounded rough, and she cleared her throat.
Cat cursed softly in Gaelic, glaring at Evelyn. Evelyn’s hands went to her hips and she stared back. “Is the book wrong? I believe I’ve heard about using snails in healing.”
Grey cleared his throat. “I can go hunt for snails.” All three women and Izzy turned to stare at him as if suddenly remembering that he was there. Izzy moved first, rushing past him toward the door. She tugged on his arm. “I’ll come along soon,” he whispered, and she ran out.
After a silent pause, Evelyn nodded to Cat. “We met at the festival. I am Evelyn. You are Cat? Isabel’s sister?” Evelyn smiled, though it looked forced. “I heard that Queen Elizabeth, herself, had a best friend during her reign named Cat. Is it short for anything?”
“Catriona,” the woman said, though she looked wary. “Ye are the teacher who’s taken my little sister to the castle.”
Evelyn nodded. “I hope that once she is warm, clean, and fed, she will start to speak.”
Cat’s eyes squeezed to slits. “I wish ye luck. I’ve tried to keep her warm, clean, and fed for the last year, and she continues to sneak away from her only living family without a word.”
“So, she did speak at one time?”
“Aye, but not a word since our mother died of a broken heart. I’ve tried everything, so I don’t believe a Sassenach will be able to break her silence.”
“I meant no disrespect,” Evelyn said, the slight happiness leaking out of her tone.
“First,” Grey said, arms crossed over his chest. “Ye can work together to save Aiden. Then ye two can plot how to care for Izzy.” They turned once more to look at him like he didn’t belong. He backed slowly toward the door. “I’ll get snails,” he said.
“Where did ye get this book?” Rebecca asked.
“My brother,” Evelyn said. “He gave it to me for my birthday last.” The brother who’d bought Finlarig? Grey paused, his hand on the door latch.
“And it contains all types of healing ways?” Rebecca asked and shook her head. She glanced to her still unconscious brother. “Now that’s a gift, not a butter churn.”
“Ye needed a new butter churn, Rebecca,” Grey said. “And he’s hardly in a state to be scolded.”
Cat leaned over the book while Evelyn held it. “His fever has grown worse tonight,” Evelyn said, glancing at Aiden.
“Fevers are always worse at night,” Cat said without looking up. “We will get some more feverfew down his throat, and when Grey actually goes out to get the snails…” she said, glancing up at him with a pointed look, “we will set them to creep along his burns.”
Grey nodded, his gaze sliding to Evelyn. She met his, her beautiful face taut with determination. Determination to heal his friend, work with Cat, or take away the seat of his clan?
…
Evelyn watched the door shut behind Grey.
“Good,” Cat said. “Men are not meant for the sick room. They bring pain and death while women bring comfort and life.” Cat’s tone brooked no disobedience. She was definitely used to taking charge of medical situations. Evelyn handed the book to her, and she carried it to the table near the hearth. “Rebecca, brew some of my feverfew for us to get into Aiden.” Cat leaned forward over the open book, her brows lowered, then looked at Evelyn. “What is this?”
Evelyn drew closer. “It shows how a baby sits inside a woman’s womb halfway through her pregnancy.”
“How would the artist know this?” she asked.
Evelyn released a breath. “I am not certain. Perhaps from autopsies of a sadly dead mother-to-be or from imagination after feeling the shape of the babe inside.”
“They haven’t cut a woman open to see this?” Cat asked, her face wary as if they discussed dark magic.
&nbs
p; “An alive woman? Heavens no,” Evelyn said. Cat nodded as she continued to peruse the book.
“You are very welcome to attend our school up at the castle.” Evelyn glanced between the women. “Both of you. You can learn to read this book.”
“I likely know everything inside it,” Cat said.
“I have other medical books to read. And an atlas of the world, and books on plants and animals, as well as art and fashion.” Evelyn’s mind flew through possible topics that might interest the two women. Let Grey see just how successful she could be when her library filled with eager-to-learn women, their minds open and bright and full of possibility. He said he thought women were as intelligent as men, and…she believed he did. But she wanted him to see it, understand the need for it. That the need was more important than his pride.
“You could read about the history of our countries or how to…rig a ship or embroider a pillow.” She noticed a stack of pinned cloth in the corner and motioned to it. “I have a book on sewing and how to design a gown. Books have mountains of information, if you can read.”
“I cannot leave Aiden,” Rebecca said, crossing her arms. Cat didn’t reply but went to sit next to her patient, taking the book with her.
The weight of their distrust, and the lack of sleep the previous night, pushed at Evelyn’s shoulders. Exhaustion and the ebb of her anger worked together in the dimness of the room to make her want to curl up with a blanket. She sat in a chair by the hearth. There was such horrendous animosity between the people of Killin and anything remotely English. No matter how badly she wanted to impart knowledge, unless a person was willing, they would never learn. Hatred and bitter resentment closed a mind completely.
“Maybe I could come here to go over the letters,” Evelyn said softly and waited.
Rebecca placed another wet cloth on Aiden’s neck. Only the slight crackle of the flames in the hearth could be heard. “Come around tomorrow, then,” Rebecca said. “And bring the book on sewing.”
Her words strengthened Evelyn, and she inhaled. “And the offer to learn is always open.” Her gaze shifted to Cat, who poured some infused feverfew into a wooden cup. “To both of you and any others who wish it.”
Cat ignored her and continued to page through the book, stopping to lean closer to the pictures.
The door opened, and Grey walked in, Izzy behind him. They both held their hands palm up, filled with little black snails. “Here are some to start,” he said. Cat shot up, waving him over to Aiden.
“The book says to rinse them with clean water first,” Evelyn said. “So the dirt from the forest doesn’t taint his wounds.”
Cat grabbed a bowl, putting some of the cooled boiled water in the bottom. Evelyn helped her pluck each snail from Izzy and Grey, gently swishing them in the water, and then they placed them on the worst of the weeping burns. Once they were all set, they stared. Slowly, the snails emerged and began to move, a glistening trail began behind each one.
“We need more of them,” Cat said.
“I will take Evelyn back to Finlarig and have Kerrick and the night watch help me find more,” Grey said. Izzy was already running out the door, hopefully in search of more snails. “Let’s go.” He handed her the shawl she’d worn. “Ye are tired.”
Evelyn frowned. Why did he continue to single her out? She saw Rebecca’s face tighten, and she shared a glance with Cat. “We are all tired,” Evelyn said. “I will stay here to help.” There was no way she would allow him to drag her away from assisting these women. She stared hard at him, her arms crossed to mimic the warrior stance of which he seemed so fond.
Gray returned her frown but pivoted on his heel, and Evelyn exhaled. He shut the door snugly, and Evelyn turned back to the two women. Rebecca and Cat shared a glance, and then Rebecca looked directly at Evelyn. “Is he bedding ye?”
Chapter Twenty
Evelyn’s heart jumped up her throat, an instant flush prickling her cheeks. She blinked several times. “I…” Her mind went blank. She wasn’t about to discuss the intimate details of her life with two women who were not only strangers but also fairly hostile.
If she were her father, she’d start yelling at them for their insolence. If she were her mother, she’d weep and faint. If she were Scarlet, she’d smile and make light of the question without actually telling them anything. But what would Evelyn do? She’d never had anything to hide before, except for her radical ideas about women, which no one wanted to hear.
Evelyn took her sister’s smile, letting one side of her mouth curve upward like the idea was humorous, her brows rising high. She folded her hands in her skirt and met Rebecca’s questioning stare. “How about this? I will write about any and all of my exploits, with all the men I’ve encountered, in my journal, and when you come to my school and learn to read, I will hand it over for your pleasure.”
Cat made a sound like a chuckle in her throat, but she continued to reposition the snails on Aiden’s back. “Ye will likely find blank pages,” Cat said.
Evelyn shrugged, picking up her book from the side table and walking toward the hearth. Her gaze followed the lines of text, though she didn’t see any of the words. “You will need to learn to read to find out.”
“I could ask Kirstin,” Rebecca said with a frown. She turned to look at Cat. “I hear that she’s sleeping with Grey. Likely, she’d know if he was throwing up another’s skirts.”
Was Kirstin already Grey’s lover? Perhaps Evelyn was just another woman to lose her virginity to the fierce Highland warrior. But his kisses last night… The kiss just now under the tree… There seemed such passion and heat in it. And truth. But some men were known for being generous lovers while not tangling themselves in affairs of the heart, King Charles for one.
Evelyn stood, brushing her skirts. She hefted the book to her chest, wrapping her arms around it. “I believe the two of you have Aiden’s health well in hand. I will return to Finlarig unless you wish me to stay.”
Cat met her gaze. “No one wishes for ye to stay.”
The statement fell like an ax, and Evelyn’s strength toppled. She managed to nod and turned to step out into the night.
Numbness infused her as she walked through the silent woods, the book heavy in her arms. No one wanted her here. No one had wanted her at Hollings either or court, for that matter, not unless she kept quiet and married well. Even Nathaniel probably wanted her gone. Why else would he have agreed to her school idea so quickly? Exhaustion breeds self-pity. She’d seen it often in her mother as her tears would begin in the evenings when she was tired. But the hateful thoughts continued to pock Evelyn’s confidence until the pressure of tears in her eyes ached, pushing past the dam. Hot tears blurred her vision, a few rolling past her eyelids to course down her cheeks.
She ignored them. Let them fall in the dark where no one could witness her weakness. Perhaps they would bleed the self-pity out of her, and she could go on stronger. Evelyn trudged through the woods, breaking out onto the road behind Isabel’s hut. Was that why Cat disliked her so much? Because Isabel had actually been coaxed away from her family home? As she stared at the house, a large shape came from the shadows, making her heart beat fast. Grey.
He walked straight toward her, a lit lantern before him. “Lass?” he asked as he neared, flooding her face with light.
Good God, could he see her remaining tears? Evelyn turned to present her back, walking to cross to the other side of the dark road. He followed, of course. The man couldn’t let her sulk in peace.
He came even with her stride as they passed the smithy. “I thought ye were staying to assist.”
They are cruel, and I’m pathetically weak. The silent words made her eyes ache. She cleared her throat. “They have everything under control.”
He blew out the lantern, leaving it near one of the smithy hearths, and took the heavy book from her arms. He didn’t say anything as they walked side
by side, their feet crunching.
Thoughts flitted into and out of Evelyn’s mind. But with each thought of Grey’s plot against her, the memory of their recent kiss dissolved her anger. He was caught in this mess, just as she was caught. Maybe even more if he was committed to another woman.
She glanced at his regal profile, his hair resting around his strong chin. “Are you having sexual relations with Kirstin?”
He continued to look forward. “Is that why ye were weeping? Did Rebecca or Cat tell ye I was lying with Kirstin?”
“I was not weeping, and even if I was, it would not be over something like that,” she said, her tone clipped.
He turned his face toward hers, and she could see his serious expression in the light of the rising moon. “Nay, I am currently having sexual relations with only one woman.”
She pressed her tongue hard against the roof of her mouth. “In the past then?”
Grey stopped, his hand on her arm. They stood in the dark lane alone. “Ye wish to know about all the lasses I’ve tupped?”
“No,” she said and huffed. “But…just Kirstin. Is that why she wishes me ill?”
After a long moment, Grey looked up at the sky where stars were beginning to break up the darkness. Evelyn waited, but with each heartbeat, her stomach tightened. He lowered his gaze back to her. “Last Hogmanay I kissed her. We might have ended up in my bed, but she drank too much whisky and passed out. Alana took care of her. The next day, we received word of my father’s death with a package that held my mother’s wedding ring and sash within it.”
“They killed your mother too?” she whispered. “The English?” Why hadn’t she asked about all of this before coming?
He looked back at the stars. “It has not been confirmed. Only my father’s body was returned for burial.”
“I am sorry,” she said, her voice soft.
A Rose in the Highlands (Highland Roses School) Page 21
