Page 33 of Highland Ruse

Kaid lay beside her, as pale and unmoving as death.

“Donnan says he’s alive,” Leasa said. There were smudges under her eyes, so deep in color, the skin looked bruised. Her lips were puckered with dryness, and she’d lost the high color in her cheeks. “Donnan’s gathering wood for the fire now. I guess they trust us finally.” She gave a weak smile.

Kaid’s head rolled to the side and he groaned. The sound, no matter how tortured, eased the clench of Delilah’s heart.

He was alive.

And she cared of his survival for all the wrong reasons.

She should be glad to see him living so that she might bring him to justice, not because he’d earned her admiration or because she thought of his well-being more than she ought to.

“We should care for him,” Leasa said in a quiet tone. “He’s helped us, even when he was sick.”

Memories floated back to Delilah—the ravenous, overwhelming thirst, crying out with need for water. And Kaid being there with soothing words and much-needed relief.

“You should try to eat, my lady.” Leasa pushed a chunk of bread into Delilah’s hands. “It will make you feel better.”

Delilah’s stomach wrenched at the very thought of food, but she knew what Leasa said was true.

An hour later, Delilah was glad she’d listened. The swirling of her stomach had finally settled and the floating feel in her head had dissipated. She and Leasa had even bathed in the loch. The icy water had been a special kind of sweet heaven as it threaded through her hair and swept away the sweat and grit of illness.

She’d even ensured Leasa left her corset slightly less tight in the dress she changed into, the simplest of all the gowns she’d been given. Tiny pink flowers were embroidered at the sleeves and hem, but those were the only adornments on the russet-colored linen.

Although she had rejoined the world of the living, Kaid had still not improved. If anything, he seemed to worsen. He’d been sick several times and had grown paler.

“Ye dinna have to care for him, Lady Elizabeth,” Donnan said. “Ye’ll ruin yer fine gown.”

Delilah shook her head. “He aided us when we were all unwell. I won’t leave him now.”

Donnan shook his head with a smirk. “We took ye to hold for ransom.”

The admission lanced through her, but she kept her face impassive. “I would like to believe you have good reason for what you’re doing.”

He opened his mouth, and she thought for a brief moment he would offer her the explanation she so desperately sought. But he gave her a smile instead. “Ye’re a kind lass.”

Heat crept into Delilah’s cheeks. She was not kind.

It was her fault Kaid was so ill. It was her fault they’d all been ill.

He lay beside her, his face slick with sweat. Why had he had such a violent reaction to the poison? If he’d been well enough to care for them all in the beginning, what had caused it to worsen?

It was then she noticed one of his hands was fisted and realized it had remained thus since she’d been at his side.

With great care, she unfurled his clenched fingers, noticing again that his thumb and forefinger were both smudged with black. Once she straightened his fingers, a small vial rolled free.

She lifted it from where it fell to the ground and pulled the stopper free. Kaid murmured something unintelligible.

Delilah lifted the empty vial to her nose and sniffed. The pungent odor assaulted her nostrils and she jerked her head back.

Valerian root.

She knew the scent well enough from Percy’s workshop. Though she’d smelled it only once, it was awful enough to have seared into her memory. She wished Percy were here now, with her knowledge of herbs and tinctures.

Kaid mumbled once more.

Delilah lifted the wineskin to his lips. “Do you need water?”

He turned his head away from it and said something she couldn’t understand. His lips moved again, and she leaned closer to hear.