Page 14 of Stealing a Kilted Heart

At what age, he wondered, had his family taken Fia in? If they had been young children, then perhaps they had truly grown up like siblings and saw each other as such. But if she had been older, in their teenage years, then he doubted it was so simple.

“I see,” he said. “Well, I simply wanted tae ken that ye were properly welcomed tae our castle. I’m sure ye must be very tired these days, so I willnae hold ye fer any longer.”

Bane stood, giving Knox a bow and heading to the door, but Fia lingered by the desk, glancing at him coyly.

“Me laird, could I have a word with ye?” she asked, and when Knox gestured to her to sit, she did so as Bane took his leave.

“O’ course,” he said. “Is there anythin’ I can dae fer ye, Miss MacKenzie?”

Perching herself on the edge of her seat, Fia leaned closer over the desk with a small, intimate smile. “I only wished tae thank ye fer this opportunity. It means so much tae me that ye have trusted me with such an important position an’ I can assure ye I willnae fail ye or betray that trust.”

For a moment, Knox looked at Fia curiously, eyes narrowing ever so slightly, before he relaxed in his seat and returned her smile. He had thought perhaps she would try to ask for a favor, maybe a larger cottage or more privileges, but receiving her gratitude instead was a pleasant surprise.

“I’m glad tae hear that,” he said. “But ye dinnae have tae thank me. Everyone has vouched fer ye an’ yer skills. We need ye here in the castle.”

“Still,” said Fia with a small shrug. “This is the first time anyone has ever shown me this much confidence an’ trust. I can only thank ye fer that.”

“An’ I can only thank ye fer agreein’ tae take over the position,” he told Fia as he stood from his chair and walked over to a small side table which held several silver pitchers and cups. “May I offer ye some ale tae express me gratitude?”

“Actually, I would prefer whisky, if that is nay trouble” she said.

Whisky! Who could have thought?

Knox had always been partial to whisky, though he had learnt from a young age to offer women wine or ale. He had yet to meet a woman who shared his taste for whisky, and he was now even more impressed by this lass who had suddenly stormed into his life and shaken the very foundations of his everyday life.

“Certainly,” he said, putting the pitcher with the ale back down to get the tumbler with the whisky and pour them both a drink. “I am partial tae whisky as well, but it isnae often that a lass shares me preference in this.”

Fia watched him as he poured it in two cups, and he could have sworn there was a shadow of doubt passing over her face, but he simply assumed she was still a little apprehensive in her unfamiliar surroundings. It was no simple task, leaving one’s home, and castle life was much different from village life.

“Here,” Knox said, handing her the cup. Fia looked at its contents dubiously. Knox held his cup up in a toast in an attempt to reassure her it was a fine drink and Fia mirrored him, holding up hers. “Tae a good an’ long stay in our castle.”

Hesitantly, Fia brought her cup to her lips as Knox took the first sip, savoring it. The moment the drink touched her tongue, it seemed to him that she turned a sickly shade of green.

An uncontrollable coughing fit gripped her, so loud and violent that Knox was certain almost everyone in the keep could hear her. Her cough echoed off the walls of the study and her cheeks turned a bright red, much to Knox’s concern, who once again stood from his seat without knowing what to do. Should he offer her some wine instead? Should he beat her back until she could catch her breath?

It wasn’t until she managed to get her cough under control that he relaxed, sinking back into his seat. For a moment, he only watched her, red-faced and frazzled as she was, and then he couldn’t help it; he laughed.

“Forgive me,” said Knox as a hand came up to clutch at his chest. “I didnae mean tae laugh. Are ye alright?”

Fia joined him, laughing softly, much to his surprise. He had to admit that he enjoyed that. Most of the women he knew, the noble girls who had grown up prim and proper, would have paled at this situation, apologizing profusely for causing a scene, but Fia could see the humor in it.

“I’m alright,” she confirmed. “It’s been… a while. I dae like it, a lot, but I dinnae drink whisky often,” she laughed nervously. “Maybe, I’m out of shape.”

“Perhaps ye should drink ale, then,” said Knox as he reached over and plucked the cup from her hands, soon replacing it with a cup of ale. She took a careful sip, chasing the foul taste of whisky down with it, and after that first sip, she seemed to return to her normal color. “So, how did a young lass like ye learn tae be a healer?”

For a moment, Fia hesitated and Knox could tell there was a story behind it. He gave her the time she needed to speak, busying himself with his cup, until she finally explained.

“Me parents were healers,” she said. “I learned much from them as I was growin’ up. But I was merely a midwife a long time afore I was ever a healer and learned details about the healing arts.”

As she spoke, Knox realized she was embarrassed about this. Her cheeks pinked once more and her voice was low, timid, as though she didn’t want to talk about this at all. He didn’t like the deprecating way in which she described her profession, though. Who could possibly be more valuable to society than someone who healed people and who brought new life to this world?

“Merely?” Knox asked with a frown. “Ye say it as though bein’ a midwife isnae one o’ the most important jobs there are.”

“I mean, most lasses ken how tae dae that,” she said with a small, timid shrug. “Every lass helps with births willingly or unwillingly.”

“Aye, perhaps it is so, but nae everyone is a midwife,” Knox pointed out. “Yer skills are valuable, Fia, an’ I am glad that we have someone like ye in the castle. ”

Knox meant it and he made sure Fia knew that. He valued the people who worked at Castle Stuart.