Elaina’s heart skipped at the chance. She did not hesitate.
“Aye,” she confirmed. “I am.”
The word settled easily on her tongue. She silently thanked her mother for the lessons, for the long evenings bent over herbs and poultices and for insisting knowledge was a woman’s sharpest weapon.
Duncan appeared intrigued. “Is that so?”
“It is.”
He tilted his head. “Then I suppose I should be grateful. Still,” he added, his gaze holding hers, “I believe I deserve tae ken at least the name of the woman I risked me life fer.”
She hesitated only a moment. “Elaina,” she said, offering the truth pared down to its safest shape.
“Only Elaina?”
“Aye.”
“And the men?” he inquired.
She kept her hands steady and her voice carefully light. “I didnae ken who they were and I am grateful I never found out.”
Duncan studied her, clearly unconvinced, but he did not press. Instead, his mouth curved into a faint, knowing smile.
“Mysterious and dangerous. And apparently capable of patching me up.”
Her fingers brushed his skin as she withdrew, sending a spark through them both.
“Dinnae mistake necessity fer mystery,” she replied with a pout she could not control.
His eyes lingered on her a moment longer than necessary. “I wouldnae dare, but I dae wonder if this is yer way of thanking me fer saving yer life.”
She glanced at him, with one brow lifting. “Daes it disappoint ye?”
“Immensely,” he replied. “I had imagined something far more memorable.”
Elaina’s lips curved despite herself. “What could be more memorable than this?” she asked lightly. “Ye ken, I’ve learned that moments tend tae linger when a healer is the reason a man walks away breathing.”
She was aware of the fact that she was pressing. She was pushing him harder than was wise, but this was no idle exchange. If she meant to reach Grant lands alive, she had to convince him to take her with him.
He stopped. The sudden halt brought her up short as well, and now, her breath caught at the abrupt closeness. The lantern light fell between them, darkening his eyes.
“Are ye any good?” he asked in a tone that was less teasing now and more intent.
“Aye,” she answered without hesitation.
He searched her face, as though testing the truth of it. “That is a bold claim.”
“I wouldnae make it if I couldnae support it,” she assured him. “Let me prove it by properly tending tae that wound of yers.”
For a moment he merely studied her, then huffed a quiet laugh. “Very well. Perhaps ye can be useful after all.”
He turned and gestured down the street. “Come with me. I am staying at an inn nae far from here, but me destination lies beyond it. Clan Grant is in need of a capable healer.”
Her heart skipped with sudden, dangerous hope.
Grant lands. Enemy lands.
The opportunity unfolded before her with startling clarity. She would have protection, distance and purpose; a life shaped byskill rather than obedience. It would be the life her mother had wanted for her.
