A Very Highland Holiday - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,4

thought of the man being unceremoniously stripped of his possessions, his dignity…

Everything.

“I-I know,” he said, closing his eyes for a brief moment as if to ward off the mere thought. “M-My hope is that Johnathan was removed from the field of battle before the scavengers came. Perhaps there is a chance that the family heirloom is still on his body, though I know there is a good chance it is not.”

“What are you looking for?”

“A-A ring.”

Rafe lifted his eyebrows as if expecting more of an answer. “Just a ring?” he said. “A signet?”

But James shook his head. “N-Not any ring,” he said. “A-A family heirloom, passed down from earl to earl. A ring with the head of a lion that has been etched into the purest gold, with rubies set into the ocular cavities as if the blood spilled by the apex predator reflected in its very eyes. At least, that is how the ring is always described, even in old family documents. The lion’s head of the House of de Lohr is our mark of excellence. It is a privilege to wear it and, as the earl, it is my right. That is what I am looking for.”

Rafe nodded faintly. “Then I wish you well, my lord,” he said. “But what if you do not find it?”

James averted his gaze, agonizing over that very possibility. But something moved in the shadows and he looked over, realizing the serving wench with the pretty brown eyes had been in the chamber the entire time. She had cleaned up the meal, but she had never left.

She had heard everything.

Not that he cared. He’d never see her again after this night.

“Y-You, there,” he said, avoiding Rafe’s question. “I-I need a chamber. I will pay handsomely for the privilege.”

The woman came into the light, her big eyes looking at him rather fearfully. “I will speak with Carrie, m’laird,” she said. “I think that all the beds are taken, but I shall ask.”

James’ half-lidded gaze looked her over, the pretty brown-eyed woman who had caught his eye before. “I-I took you from the common room when there was fighting,” he said. “Y-You’ve been like a wraith, moving in and out of this chamber. What is your name?”

“Gaira, m’laird.”

“G-Gaira, if you will bring me some blankets, I can sleep right here on this floor.”

The woman dashed from the chamber and James turned to Rafe, reaching out to take the last of the man’s ale. In fact, Rafe hadn’t touched any of the food brought, so James shoved a piece of bread into his mouth.

“W-We shall sleep this night,” he said, chewing the bread. “Y-You have asked me of my purpose in this unpleasant little inn, but what is yours? All I have done is speak of myself to no good end.”

Rafe didn’t seem to mind that James had sucked down the last of his ale. “I am here only for the night, too,” he said, avoiding the question for the most part. “I am a healer, my lord. That is my gift and my vocation.”

James looked at him with interest. “H-Healer, eh?” he said. “A-A physician? A noble profession. But you are too late for all of those gallant lads at Culloden. They could have used you months ago. My brother could have used you months ago. A bayonet to the neck, I was told. Only there is no recovering from that.”

Gaira returned to the chamber with Carrie in tow, both of them carrying blankets and pillows. James’ drunken chatter ceased at that moment as the women arranged a pallet for him in the corner, next to the hearth. They didn’t bring anything for Rafe and when James started to say something about it, the man waved him off and James let the subject drop. If Rafe didn’t want a bed, so be it.

Truthfully, James didn’t mind sleeping on the floor. He’d slept on worse. He was grateful for the blankets and the fire, and for the company of a rather silent man named Rafe. He’d spoken more of his brother to Rafe than he had spoken to anyone in a very long time and there was something decidedly cathartic about it. But there was also something undeniably depressing, like a stench of tumultuous brotherhood he simply couldn’t shake.

A brother he’d not parted on the best of terms with.

He slept.

Part Three

GAIRA

There was something in her face that suggested… shock.

Surprise?

Astonishment?

Rafe saw it in Gaira’s face as she’d listened to James drunkenly spout his tale of woe with