“I am goin’ to write a letter to yer sister, by the way,” Callum continued, his gaze resting on her and staying there. “To let her ken that ye are here.”
Some of Melody’s newfound confidence ebbed away. There hadn’t been much to begin with.
“Oh?” she questioned, doing her best to keep her voice steady. “You’ll tell her that I’m here as a guest?”
His eyes darkened. He took another step closer, until Melody could feel the warmth from his skin.
“A guest? Nay, lass. As me betrothed. Or did ye forget?”
Melody’s nerve broke. She wasn’t Victoria. The real Victoria was not too far away, probably enjoying her life as a married woman, waiting excitedly for her baby to be born, and not thinking about her troublesome younger sister at all. Once Callum’s letter reached her, Victoria would probably come here and undo this whole mess with one sharp conversation.
And then this will all be over. I shall go back to England and marry bald Lord Sinclair, and never again think about Laird MacDean.
It shall be a relief, I think. Yes, a relief.
“I see,” Melody squeaked, backing away. “I shall go, then. To fetch the healer. Thank you for your directions, my Laird.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned tail and fled. About halfway up the hallway, she risked a glance backward. To her horror, Callum still stood there, arms folded, watching her.
7
Melody’s heart hammered against her chest. That felt rather cowardly, really.Victoriawould never be so shaken after a simple conversation, that was for sure.
Well, at least I didn’t disgrace myself too much there.
Painful memories prickled at her. There was the time she’d been reduced to tears at Lady Bournemouth’s garden party, all but paralyzed with anxiety about slipping on the muddy ground.
The many times she’d said something hasty, or trite, or shared an opinion that a lady wasn’t meant to have. There were, of course, countless occasions where Papa had given her a sharp reprimand in front of others, who politely pretended not to notice.
Yes, she was rather good at embarrassing herself in public. Strangely, though, without Papa to glower at her and withoutVictoria to rush in to help, some of that prickling fear had abated. It had notgone, of course, but perhaps now that she was out from under their watchful–and in Victoria’s case, loving—eyes, she could act with a little less terror.
Or something like that. She reached the large, circular chamber that Callum had described. A large, arched doorway was labeledHealer’s Chambers, but even without the signpost, she would have known the place. Sharp, savory scents, all mingling together, came drifting out of the open doorway.
There was lavender, sage, feverfew, roseElsie, and more. She caught a glimpse of narrow pallet beds lined up against a stone wall, half-hidden by a discreet privacy shield across the doorway. Quiet murmurs of conversation rose here and there. There was an air of calm about the place, tangible even when one stood outside, as Melody did.
Should I knock? Just walk in?
Swallowing hard, she stepped through the archway, putting her within touching distance of the privacy shield.
“Excuse me? Miss Kat?” she called.
All conversation ceased. Tapping footsteps approached, and then a young woman emerged from behind the privacy shield, drying her hands on a rag.
“Who are ye?” the woman asked at once, her gaze drifting over Melody from head to foot. There was no anger or sense of demand in her voice, only cool curiosity.
“My name is Lady Melody. I’m sent to fetch somebody to attend to Lady Sophie. I’m supposed to ask for Katherine. Or, um, Kat.”
The woman took another step forward, tilting her head. “I am she. What’s an English lass doing in our Keep, then?”
Melody blinked, looking at her afresh. Kat seemed to be about four-and-twenty years old. She was tall and strong-looking, and in London Society would be described ashandsomerather thanpretty. Her hair, long and red, hung down her back in a fat braid, tendrils escaping around her face. The narrowness in her features reminded her of Angus, since, of course, she was his niece. Her eyes, however, were large and brown, almost too dark for her coloring.
“It’s a long story,” Melody managed at last. Well, that was the truth, wasn’t it?
“I heard a rumor,” Kat ventured, taking another step forward. “That our laird is betrothed.”
“Already?” Melody responded, before she could stop herself. “We only told a councilman about it a few hours ago.”
Kat’s full lips twitched into a smile. “Aye, well, Uncle Angus told me first. He said I might be waitin’ on ye. For now, he said. He was most specific about that.”
