“I do understand,” Hazel whispered, cutting her gaze to the glowing hearth then. “And Ididpoint all of that out to him.”
“And yet, ye are allowing this to happen.”
Hazel’s heart started to kick against her breastbone, queasiness rising.
“Ye know how the world works,” Liza went on. “What people will say … what they arealreadysaying.”
She nodded, her gut churning now.
Liza sighed then, and Hazel forced herself to meet the older woman’s gaze. Just twenty years separated them, but suddenly, she felt like a young lass being chastised by her grandmother. “Things have … gotten out of hand,” she admitted.
Liza leaned forward. “Then yeknowthis is a mistake.”
Heat flushed through Hazel. “That’s not what I said. I—”
“Let’s not bandy words,” Liza shot back. “Craeg has let his feelings cloud his judgement … and ye have allowed him.”
“I don’t have control over what he feels,” she replied, her voice hollow now.
It was too much. She’d weathered whispers and sneers all day, and now her future mother-by-marriage was getting out her claws too. She’d never felt so unwelcome, or so disappointed in herself. For most of her life, her business had been private, yet now her life—her choices—would be discussed publicly.
“Think carefully about what ye are doing. Not just to Craeg, but to yerself.” A nerve flickered in Liza’s cheek. “What if Loch refuses his blessing … and he may … what then? Will ye be content to be Craeg’s mistress … to watch him sacrifice everything for ye?”
Hazel couldn’t answer. Suddenly, it felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the solar. She couldn’t breathe. No, that was the last thing she wanted.
“I’m sorry, lass.” The glint in Liza’s eyes hit her like a mallet to the chest. “This isn’t my life … or my choice, but I can’t stay silent. Before things go further, I must make sure ye understand what’s at stake.”
The eastern sky was just beginning to lighten when Hazel slipped from the tower house. She’d slung a woolen cloak about her shoulders but left the hood down. There were few folk about at this hour, and even if someone spotted her, they wouldn’t stop her from leaving. She wasn’t a prisoner here.
But she had to go.
She’d made the decision the night before, as she stood at her chamber window watching the light fade. Lady Liza’s words still rang in her ears, still stung like a slap across the face, but the woman was right.
Hazel was allowing Craeg to do something reckless and foolish.
Something that could ruin them both.
She’d left doing the right thing too late—but she couldn’t remain here. Not now.
She carried her healer’s basket hooked over one arm, a satchel slung across her front. She was traveling light, and that meant leaving Duncan behind too. He’d be happier here anyway. The stable lads loved him, and being a sociable creature, he adored the attention they lavished on him.
Her gaze cut across to the shadowed stables.
Her beloved donkey was in there, warm and safe with a manger of barley straw.
Tears stung her eyes. She ached to go to him, to say goodbye. But there was no time. She needed to leave before the rest of the castle stirred.
The last thing she wanted was more stares. More whispers.
A few yards away, the iron merchant was strapping the two garrons to his cart. The wind of the day before hadn’t abated. It swirled through the barmkin, scattering straw and ruffling the ponies’ manes.
Drawing her cloak close, Hazel hurried across to Beth.
“Can I travel with ye?” she asked, wishing her voice wasn’t so breathless and brittle.
The older woman eyed her, surprised.
“I have coin,” she added. “I can pay.”
