The words still sent a crawling sensation down her spine, filling her with the urge to hunker down and hide.
The smile faded from Thomas’s face.
“Are ye all right? It was just a joke.”
Emma slammed the pestle and mortar down on the table far harder than was necessary. “Well, it wasnae funny.”
There was a tense silence between them.
What are ye doing?He’s the Laird. If ye arenae careful…
He leaned forward, making her jump again. “Look, Emma—”
The door opened, and he broke off abruptly.
Delphine stepped inside, looking older and greyer than before. Her expression lit up when she saw Thomas.
“Ah, Laird MacPherson! Good to see ye. What brings ye here?”
“Och, I’m just here for a headache potion.” Thomas laughed, getting to his feet. “Here, sit down. It’s good to see ye, too, Delphine.”
“I hope Emma wasnae talking back to ye too much,” Delphine remarked, eyeing Emma suspiciously. She lowered herself slowly and painfully onto the seat. At that moment, the kettle began to sing, allowing Emma to turn her back to the scene behind her.
“Ah, ye know me, Delphine. I give as good as I get.”
Emma turned mutely from the fireplace, bearing the heavy, well-used kettle. She poured out a mug full of hot water, watching the green powder swirl through the water. A scent of mint and the unmistakable scent of briar’s tears filled the air.
“That smells strong,” Thomas said. He was watching her, Emma could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to glance his way.
“Let it steep for five minutes,” she said. “Then strain out the pulp, if there is any.”
“Thank ye,” he replied, stepping forward to take the mug. His hand, large and calloused, appeared in Emma’s field of vision. The ring glinted on his index finger, and she could now see it was neither a wolf nor a dog, but a fox.
Well, that made sense.
“Good day to ye, Delphine,” Thomas said, inclining his head. “And ye, Emma.”
Then, he was gone, closing the door gently behind him, leaving only the smell of mint, briar’s tears, and fresh-cut grass in the air.
She wasn’t sure where the grass scent had come from.
“Out with it, lass,” Delphine said after the silence had stretched on for a few minutes.
“What do ye mean?” Emma asked, trying to sound as off-hand as she could. “What’s wrong?”
“Why don’t ye tell me? Ye are white as a sheet. Did he say something to ye?”
Emma bit her lip, closing her eyes. He probably hadn’t meant it. The simplest sentence sent her reeling back to that awful pub.
She could smell the scent of smoke, roasted meat, and unwashed bodies hanging in the air like a miasma. She heard the babble of chatter and laughter, glasses clinking together.
Emma remembered, as clearly as if it had happened yesterday, a dirty hand wrapping around her waist-length hair. The girls in McCade kept their hair loose and their hems high. The man had yanked with all his strength, sending her head snapping backward. She tumbled uncontrollably, unable to free herself or even control which way she was going.
The man pulled her to him, his breath stinking like a sewer.
She could never hear what he had said, even in her nightmares, but she knew he’d said something filthy.
Then, one of the barkeepers had yelled at him, telling him that she was the healer and should be left alone. The man had reluctantly let her go and seized another girl right away.
