Coira held her breath, waiting. Would Logen press her? She couldn’t bear for her misdeeds to become common knowledge among the clan. She’d never be free of her past if that happened. The Lathans knew that, and it must be the reason they had not told the true story of her banishment. The Healer would have insisted, and the laird would have done whatever his new wife wished as long as it didn’t further endanger his clan.
But what of her people here? Could her madness return? She had to hope it would not. If she could learn to guard herself against the onslaught of others’ emotions, she could survive.
“Verra well.”
Those two words were the sweetest Coira had heard in a long time. Relief made her giddy, but caution kept her still.
“I’ll leave ye be on this for now. But dinna give me cause to regret it, lass.”
“I hope never to do that.” It struck her that might be the truest thing she’d ever said…to anyone.
His gaze bored into her, assessing. As he if wished he, too, could read emotions and sense what she was feeling and thinking. It was unnerving, and made her realize how others would regard her if they knew what she could do.
“Ye canna tell anyone about me, Logen, please. They willna understand. They’ll think I pry into their innermost secrets, even though I canna. I willna be safe with anyone. This must remain between us.”
“It will. Ye have my word on it. But ye will do as ye suggested, and try to sense who threatens me. I fear no enemy I can see coming. But lately, I must fear the dirk at my back in the hand of a friend.”
“Ye have my word on it.” She deliberately used his phrasing to show him she was as serious about their pact as he.
“It seems both our lives may depend on the other.”
“I willna fail ye, Logen.”
He stood and assisted her to her feet. His calm was gone, replaced by slow-simmering anger that made her think of distant lightning. “It’s time for ye to go. Unless ye wish to be seen accompanying me to the hall for the evening meal?”
Coira shook her head. “Nay, ’tis best I make my own way.” She paused by the door, intent on her awareness. Was anyone outside? Nay. She opened the door and peeked down the hall. Empty. Without another word, she slipped away from Logen and returned to her chamber to prepare herself for whatever she might find among the people of her clan.
****
Though he knew he must keep his wits about him, even in his own hall and at table in front of his entire clan, his thoughts kept returning to the strange conversation he’d had with Coira. Could she sense his mood even now? From her place halfway across the hall? He had little trouble guessing hers. She could not be comfortable making this foray into such a crowd. If large groups were “noisy” for her, then this meal would be consumed in an unrelenting din.
He dared not allow anyone to notice him watching her, but as he ate, he glanced around, noting Coira as his gaze travelled past her. Another woman was sitting and speaking with her—ah, Elizabeth. Good, Coira had one friend at least.
As far as his limited senses could tell, with a good meal of roasted fish and plenty of ale before them, the clan’s mood was benign. Laughter echoed to the rafters and the fire in the large hearth seemed cheerful and welcoming. Was it all an illusion? A dream conjured up by his hopes? He let his gaze rove past Coira, yet again. She was pushing food around on her plate. Elizabeth was talking to a lad on her other side.
Back again, his gaze skimmed the room and lingered on Coira. Did she seem suddenly pale? He had no time to contemplate the question. She slumped in her seat, complexion ashen. Logen forced himself to stay where he was, hoping for Elizabeth to notice and tend to her. That hope held him in place for no more than three heartbeats, then he surged to his feet and moved through the rows of trestle tables to her side. At his approach, Elizabeth finally turned and saw Coira’s condition. Logen reached them just as Elizabeth tried to rouse her friend.
“What’s amiss?”
“I dinna ken, laird. She was fine just moments ago. But she willna rouse.” Elizabeth lightly slapped Coira’s cheeks, then patted her wrists. “We’d best get her away from here.”
“I’ll take her.” The words were out before Logen could control his tongue. He grimaced and nearly waved another man over, but Elizabeth heard him and stood to allow him access. Logen picked up Coira and moved away from the table, Elizabeth trailing closely behind. “Stay with me, lass,” he told her as they mounted the stairs to the upper hall. “I may need yer help.” Logen glanced over his shoulder in time to see her nod.
“Should I get the healer?” Elizabeth asked as they reached the upper landing.
Logen wanted to shout his frustration. What if Coira woke up talking about “feeling” something? But she might need the healer’s help. “Aye. That would be wise.”
Just then, Coira stirred in his arms. “Wait. She’s...ah, there ye are, lass. Just in time for me to have carried ye all the way up the stairs and to yer door.”
“What...?”
“Ye fainted,” Elizabeth told her as she opened the door to Coira’s small chamber. “Do ye ken why?”
Coira’s gaze cut to Logen’s as he set her down on her edge of her bed. “Are ye well?” he asked, to divert her from answering Elizabeth, then stepped back to a proper distance.
“I still feel a bit weak, but I’m sure I’ll be well in moments. I am...unused to being among so many people. I’d lost my appetite.”
“Ach, so ye need some food,” Elizabeth supplied. “I’ll fetch ye a tray and be back in a trice.”
