“When he finds us. Which will be sometime today.”
“Why not take the fight to him? Why not go now—”
“Because he will be on the defensive then. I want him to feel confident.”
She snorted. “He is always that.”
“No, my dear,” he said as his lips neared hers. “I think he’s always been afraid of you, and rightly so.” He paused as he looked at her. “You said he had many women. Did any give him a child? If so, I need to know—”
“No.” She shrugged. “He is unable to father children.”
“That’s a lucky break,” he said. “How do you know that’s true?”
Did she dare confess her mother’s crimes? Most men would surely consider it such. She shrugged. “Some secrets are passed down among healers. Such as where to cut a man such that he canna father children.”
He jolted. “What?”
She smiled. “A man—if he were very drunk—might not even feel it. And if the right woman were to help him to bed, undress him because of his stink, then she might accidentally slip with a knife. Indeed, he might never even know, especially if he were already unconscious.”
“The devil you say!”
She shrugged. “It is something witches know. At least so my mother told me.”
He pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “I begin to admire her more and more.”
“I think she would have liked you.”
“Because I will not fault her for being ruthless?”
“Because you are a canny one and you fight for me.”
He grinned. “Always,” he said. And then she lost herself in his kiss, his arms, and the sweet tangle that…
Was interrupted by Lizzy, who wasn’t at all as quiet as she thought.
Reuben pulled back and winked at the girl. “You’re up early,” he said.
She shrugged, her attention fixed on Iseabail. “I thought Hamish married you. Or he married yer necklace. It seemed verra strange.”
“That it is,” Iseabail agreed. “And not done right.”
The girl nodded, her gaze going to Reuben. She didn’t ask, but her gaze was very direct. So Iseabail did the introductions and was pleased to see the girl take it in stride. She curtsied, as was appropriate, then turned back to Iseabail.
“Mama says to come now.”
“Aye. Thank ye.”
The girl nodded, then with one last look at the pair of them, she dashed away. “That girl is always running everywhere,” she murmured. And she set her hand on her belly, wondering if her own child would be like that.
He must have seen her gesture. He must have been thinking along the same lines as her because he caught her hand and kissed it. And then he bent down and pressed another to her belly.
She set her hand on his head and let her fingers slide through his curls. Whatever the day brought, this moment now was good. Pure and full of love, and so she gathered that feeling inside herself and used it to strengthen her determination to find a solution. Even if it meant murder.
There was time for one last kiss, one final caress, and then she turned to face the day. She thought she would be lost in a mass of anxiety. She had feared her uncle for so long that the idea of confronting him today seemed immense. Instead, she had no time to think. Talia’s kitchen was filled with the old and the sick, and she spent a great deal of time tending to them. Reuben, on the other hand, stayed with Fergus near the sheep, speaking in low voices to all who came by.
And by the looks of things, every soul in the clan stopped by to speak. Some came out of curiosity and with nothing good to say about a Sassenach. But more came to seek her skills and for the first time in her life, she drew a line.
Any who spoke ill of her husband could find another place for their healing balms and possets. To her shock, she heard no more ill talk about the English. She was sure they whispered it, but in front of her, they remained respectful. And when they still needed to curse at something, they cursed her uncle’s woman Orlaith for destroying her stillroom and all the medicines contained there.
