Hazel didn’t answer. Guilt twisted in her belly then, as she remembered the night before.
Craeg’s mouth devouring hers.
The way she’d kissed him back, even as she’d known she shouldn’t.
Thank Heavens, Liza had no idea what happened.
No one will know, she assured herself then. Their stolen kiss was a secret that definitely wouldn’t be shared.
Duncan pushed his nose against Hazel’s palm, searching for treats.
“I've nothing for ye, greedy beast,” she murmured, scratching between his long ears. The donkey snorted but leaned into her touch anyway, content to have her attention. They stood near the stables. The soft light of a long summer twilight gilded the barmkin. After spending most of the day tending to Lady Liza, it was a relief to see her steady improvement. Initially, she’d been worried about the congestion in her lungs. It had been worse than she’d anticipated. However, Liza breathed much easier now.
Now that the crisis was over, she’d eventually ventured outdoors to spend some time with her beloved donkey. True to his word, Craeg had sent one of his men to fetch Duncan.
Around her, servants crossed the yard, carrying water and firewood, their voices a low murmur. From the bakehouse wafted the rich, savory scent of grouse pie—supper approached.
Her stomach growled. She’d barely eaten all day, too focused on tending Lady Liza to think of much else.
“Mistress Hazel.”
She turned to find Nathair Black approaching, his curly black hair framing chiseled features. Tall and broad-shouldered, he moved with the easy confidence of a trained warrior. His green eyes were warm as they settled on her.
“Captain.” Hazel nodded in greeting; she’d met Black for the first time the day before and had immediately taken a liking to him.
“I hear Lady Liza is over the worst.” He stopped a respectful distance away, hands clasped behind his back.
“Aye … the fever broke last night, and her lungs are clearing.” Hazel stroked Duncan’s neck. “She’ll need rest, but I believe she’ll make a full recovery.”
Relief softened Black’s serious features. “The chieftain did well to fetch ye as quickly as he did.”
Hazel’s belly hardened at the mention of Craeg. He’d dropped by Liza’s chamber often to check on his mother. She’d avoided meeting his eye—and insisted on taking her noon meal at Liza’s bedside, so she didn’t accidentally find herself alone with him again.
Best not to put either of them in temptation’s way again.
Fortunately, Lady Liza would be well enough soon for Hazel to leave.
“Ye must be exhausted,” Black said, his gaze roving her face. Was that interest she glimpsed in his moss-green eyes?
“I’m managing.” She smiled then. “Duncan’s company always restores me.”
Black’s cheek dimpled as he smiled back. “Aye … horses and dogs are restful companions. Far less complicated than people. They certainly don’t talk back or question yer orders.”
Hazel snorted. “Ye clearly haven’t spent much time with Dunc.” Hazel gestured to where the donkey was now investigating the captain’s belt, searching for food. “He questions everything I say.”
Laughing, Black gently pushed the donkey’s nose away. “Foolish donkey. It’s clear ye are a woman who should be listened to.”
There was something in the captain’s tone that made Hazel glance at him more closely. Was he now flirting with her? Their exchange was lighthearted, yet she sensed an undercurrent.
The realization caught her off guard. Nathair Black was handsome, certainly. Strong, capable, and kind, if a little awkward sometimes. Any woman would be fortunate to have his attention.
But after the incident with Craeg the night before, she didn’t welcome any man’s interest.
“I can be bossy,” she admitted, sobering. It was best not to encourage him further. “And ask anyone in Lochbuie. They’ll tell ye I’m prickly as a thistle.”
“They are mistaken.” Black’s expression turned earnest. “Ye are—”
“Hazel.”
