Mhairi looked at him, confused. "Can what?"
"Learn. Properly." Alpin turned to face her fully. "We have a healer at the castle. Donnach. He's been askin' fer an apprentice fer some time now, but nay one's shown real interest. If ye want tae learn, I'll arrange it."
Her eyes went wide. "Ye'd... ye'd dae that?"
"Why wouldnae I?"
"Because I'm..." She gestured vaguely at herself. "I'm nae supposed tae. Ladies dinnae?—"
"Ladies dae whatever the hell they want in me castle," Alpin interrupted firmly. "If ye want tae learn healin', ye'll learn healin'. If ye want tae learn swordplay, ye'll learn that too. Whatever makes ye happy, whatever gives ye purpose, that's what matters."
Mhairi stared at him like he'd just offered her the world. Which, in a way, he supposed he had.
"I..." Her voice cracked. "Thank ye. I dinnae ken what tae say."
"Say ye'll dae it. Say ye'll let yerself have this one thing that's just fer ye."
"Aye." The word came out fierce, determined. "Aye, I will."
They stood there in the middle of the busy market, people flowin' around them like water around stones. And Alpin realized he'd dae anything, absolutely anything, to see that light in her eyes again.
"There's something else," Mhairi said quietly. "Somethin' I've been wantin' tae ask about."
"What?"
"Me sister. Isobel." Her hand tightened on his arm. "Ye said ye'd look into what Graham claimed. About her bein' sold too."
Alpin's jaw tightened. "I've already sent men tae investigate. Quietly. If she's in danger, we'll find her."
"And if she's already been..." Mhairi couldn’t finish.
"Then we'll get her back." Alpin covered her hand with his. "I promise ye, Mhairi. If yer sister needs help, she'll have it. Whatever it takes."
They finished their shopping and headed back toward where they'd left the horses. As they walked, Mhairi's hand still tucked into the crook of his arm, Alpin found himself thinking about the future.
About what it might look like with her in it.
It was dangerous thinking. Premature. She'd been there barely a day. She was still healing from trauma he couldn’t begin to fully understand.
But he couldn’t help it.
CHAPTER NINE
The castle was bathed in evening light when they returned, the sun painting everything gold and amber. Mhairi's new packages had been sent ahead on a cart, and she could already see servants carrying them inside as she and Alpin dismounted.
"Come on," Alpin said, handing his reins to a stable lad. "There's someone I want ye tae meet before supper."
Mhairi followed him through corridors she was starting to recognize—past the great hall, down a narrower passage that smelled faintly of herbs and something sharper. Medicinal.
They stopped at a heavy wooden door. Alpin knocked twice before pushing it open.
The chamber beyond was unlike anything Mhairi had seen in the castle. Every surface was covered with supplies—jars of dried herbs, bottles of tinctures, rolls of clean linen for bandages. A fire burned low in the hearth and suspended above it was a pot that bubbled gently, filling the room with a scent Mhairi recognized immediately.
Comfrey root. For wounds and broken bones.
An older man stood at a worktable near the window, his grey hair tied back from his face as he ground something in a mortar. He looked up when they entered, his weathered face breaking into a smile.
"Alpin. I heard ye were back." His eyes shifted to Mhairi, curious but kind. "And ye've brought a guest."
