“Fortune has smiled upon you indeed,” Darra agreed, and let out a shudder. “I heard that the Broken Men are shunned by society, and ‘tis for good reason. ‘Tis certain that they run loose with the devil that you mentioned.”
Adrina nodded, uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed. She started to walk toward the horses when she glanced back, and noticed that the other woman hadn’t followed her.
She turned back. “Are we nae done yet, milady?”
“Nay, we still need to obtain the angelica roots,” she said, craning her neck as she surveyed the land. “And I think I see some.”
She then moved to another area where a cluster of blooming tiny flowers grew. The white blossoms contrasted vividly with the purple and gray heather that grew beside them. Crouching once more, she dug into the ground, loosening the roots. She grabbed ahold of the stems and pulled the roots free.
Adrina had trailed after her, and bent down to her once again, but Darra shook her head. “’Tis enough,” she said, brushing the back of her hand against her forehead. She leaned back on her heels, and looked at Adrina, the expression on her face serious. “We will go back to the castle now. But when we return, I shall speak to Rory.”
“There’s nay need —”
“Aye, there is a need,” she interrupted. “When I traveled from my home, I ran into an unscrupulous knight that would have ravished me had I been alone and defenseless,” she let out a shudder before she gathered her precious rootstocks, and placed them in her small basket. “A woman traveling alone is not wise, and I cannot allow you to travel without a proper escort. While you were fortunate to be unharmed when you traveled here, ‘tis my experience that luck cannot be relied upon.”
Darra stood up, and lifting her hand, she beckoned for the guard to come forward.
Their guide pushed himself away from the tree, the expression on his face giving way to relief. He helped them get on their mounts, and led them back to the castle.
As they entered the courtyard, they stopped by the well to rinse the dirt off of the roots. The courtyard was busier than ever, with various lairds, ladies and their offspring wandering around the protected area.
When they arrived at Venora’s workspace near the kitchen, they found the healer humming to herself. She looked up when Darra set the small basket on the table next to her.
“Oh,” she said, a startled expression on her countenance. “I did not think you would return so soon.”
“’Twas Adrina who brought us good luck. We found the roots without any trouble.”
Venora eagerly dug her hands into the basket, and pulled out a rootstock. She held them up to the light and sighed. “Good,” she said. “I was a little afraid that I would have to resort to the dry roots that I had. However using fresh ones are better, and will make the concoction much stronger.” She turned to Adrina and nodded. “The potion will finish brewing by tomorrow.”
“Lady Darra has told me this.” She clasped her hands in front of her chest. “I thank ye for doing this, milady.” Then remembering that she needed to pay Venora, she reached into the purse that hung at her belt.
“Here, take these coins for payment,” she said.
Venora covered Adrina’s hand and gently folded it into a fist. “Keep your money, lass.”
Adrina opened her mouth to protest.
“Nay, you are in need.” The older woman shook her head.
“Thank ye,” she whispered. Even though she didn’t say it out loud, she knew that Venora sympathized with her plight. At least someone believed the seriousness of her dilemma, and didn’t think that she was mad.
Venora tilted her head to the side, and gazed at Adrina as if she was searching her soul. “There is something about you…” she said, her voice trailing off while her expression turned thoughtful.
“I must speak with Rory in the great hall,” Darra said, interrupting. “Will you be joining us, Mother?”
“Nay, you go ahead. There is much work to be done, and I must finish preparing this potion.”
***
By the time they walked toward the great hall, Adrina was exhausted and longed to return to her bedchamber and rest. By now everyone knew that she had arrived in her father’s place, and if she was to live up to her lie, she needed to represent her clan.
As soon as they stepped into the great hall, her eyes scanned the room, noting that there were more people converging into the large space. This was to be expected since she recognized that the gathering of warriors was a serious affair. These men would go to war, but how many would live to see their loved ones? Very few. A ripple of dread coursed through her, and she tried in vain to shake away the awful feeling. There was nothing she could do to prevent the coming battle, since it was unlikely that they would heed a woman’s warning about the perils of warfare. Fighting had never helped their people or their country. It left too many widows and orphans, but she also knew that many believed that there was no other choice but to enter into conflict with the English. Not doing anything would allow them to fall easily into the hands of tyranny and even more bloodshed.
Adrina immediately saw Rory MacGregon conversing with two other men, who bore a striking resemblance to him. Her gaze was just about to slide past the three large highlanders, but for some reason her eyes swung back to the slender dark-haired figure that stood to the right of Rory. At the moment, the man’s back was turned to her, so she allowed her eyes to trace the outline of his fine physique. Like Rory, he was over six feet tall and shared a similar massive build. His shoulders were broad, and even through his shirt, she could tell that his back was a wall of muscle. He wore a great kilt, the muted colors unique to his clan. She had seen men in kilts all her life, but it was the lithe and powerful body beneath this plaid that made him impressive to behold. In fact, it left no question about his virility or his magnificent masculinity. The very way he held himself belied a languid, almost predatory grace that was asleep yet would no doubt be lethal when unleashed.
She felt a shiver run through her. The man was a relation to MacGregon; she was sure of it. The brothers were known to be braw, fierce, and charming. It was no wonder that women young and old swooned over them. And it was also obvious that they took after their sire.
As they walked, Darra continued with her descriptions of various herbs and plants, but Adrina could scarcely concentrate on her words. When she drew closer still, she had a nagging suspicion that she had met this brawny stranger before. While she couldn’t exactly place it, the air of danger, intrigue and dominance that clung to him seemed familiar somehow. But how could she have known him? She had little interaction with men outside of her clan.
