Page 62 of Highland Ruse

A thought occurred to Delilah while she was speaking with the healer.

“What do you know of valerian root?” Delilah asked suddenly.

Rhona’s eyes narrowed and seemed to disappear beneath the crinkle of her eyelids. “Why do ye ask?”

“My aunt,” Delilah said quickly, realizing Rhona must have given Kaid the vial in the first place. “She took it often and seemed almost plagued by it.”

“The English never know how to handle the stuff,” she said in a honeyed tone. The brittle smile returned to her face. “I’m a healer. Of course I know a great deal about it.”

Delilah had to squelch the temptation to roll her eyes at the woman’s condescending patience. “Can it cause nightmares?”

Wind caught at Rhona’s long white hair and pulled it in front of her face. She shoved it aside and took a while to see it freed before finally answering. “At times.” Rhona’s reply came with such restraint, Delilah knew the answer was more likely a definitive yes.

She nodded pensively. “Why then would she have been so eager to take it all the time?”

“Some herbs are like that. They make one reliant upon them. Especially among people who do not know how to properly use them.”

The insult grated down Delilah’s spine. The trail they were on was a long one, and seemed to curl away from the denser part of the village toward somewhere more remote. Though she did not enjoy speaking with Rhona, the woman was giving her good information—by everything she was not saying.

Delilah suddenly wished Percy were there instead. Percy probably knew more about herbs than the seer and would certainly be kinder.

“Why would my aunt take valerian in the first place?” Delilah asked with tethered patience.

Rhona gave a sage nod as she answered, “For pain.”

Delilah thought of Kaid. He had no wounds she had seen. Or touched, since she’d touched more of him than she saw. Warmth flushed over her chest. “But she wasn’t injured.”

Rhona stopped suddenly and Delilah did too. The men carrying the almost empty kettle continued ahead, along with Lachlan.

“No’ all pain is of the body, lass.” Rhona gave her an appraising look. “Sometimes it comes from in here.” She pointed a fleshy finger at Delilah’s breast. Toward her heart. “It keeps the sufferer awake all night with hurt they canna endure. The valerian draws them toward sleep, toward forgetting and unfeeling.”

The old woman began walking once more, her great purple cape whipping and snapping in the wind, leaving Delilah no choice but to follow.

Was that truly why Kaid took valerian?

Delilah recalled the nightmares, the pictures he’d drawn, the suffering bright in his beautiful blue eyes. And her heart ached for him.

A large stone building came into view, nestled between a trio of swollen hills. Several children played in the soft grass, their voices light and carefree. In front of the door to the building was the brown-haired woman who had apologized for Claire only the day before. And Kaid.

Something stung inside her to see them together, and for the first time, she wondered if he had a lover. If this woman might be his lover.

Before she could wind a maddening story in her mind for the couple in front of her, Kaid looked up and watched their group progress toward him. No, not their group—her.

Her cheeks went hot at the realization.

She shouldn’t care. She shouldn’t want his notice. But she did.

The understanding hit her like one of Sylvi’s blows.

Caring for him was foolish.

And loving him was—

She shook the thought from her mind and strode toward him, toward the man whose heart was both tender and broken.

• • •

Kaid could not keep from watching Delilah as she approached.