Under the Highlander's Spell Read Online Free PDF Page B

Black, Artair,” she said with an offered hand.
    Had Zia informed her of his name? He didn’t recall hearing her say it, but then, enthralled with the woman’s presence, perhaps he hadn’t heard.
    He reached out and accepted her welcome. “Thank you for having me to your village.”
    â€œBethane,” she said, her smile growing. “My name is Bethane, and you are most welcome here. Come. You most be parched and hungry from your travels.”
    â€œStay, Nessie,” Artair ordered, but the dog ignored him and followed Bethane into the cottage. “Nessie!”
    Bethane turned. “She’s welcome in my home.”
    Artair entered the cottage behind his dog and Zia, thinking Nessie definitely needed a firmer hand. He was amazed at the size, the room being large with beautifully crafted furnishings and pottery that were certainly crafted with a skilled hand.
    He gave Nessie a reproachful glare, but the dog just parked herself beside Bethane and ignored him.
    â€œPlease sit,” Bethane said, extending her hand to a chair at the table in front of the hearth.
    Artair remained standing, wanting to see his brother. “Zia says my brother Ronan is here?”
    â€œHe has left the village,” Bethane answered gently, and once again offered him a seat. This time he did.
    Zia was busy filling a pitcher with a brew from thecaldron that hung over the flames when her grandmother said, with concern, “He was too ill to travel.”
    Artair looked to Bethane along with Zia. “Why did he leave?’
    â€œI do not know. He was gone when I woke one morning.”
    Artair felt the familiar punch of disappointment to his gut. He had hoped beyond reason that this time would be different, but in truth he wasn’t surprised that it hadn’t. It seemed too easy that he should enter a village and simply find his brother there.
    â€œI am sorry,” Zia said.
    Her apology was sincere. It was obvious she had expected to find Ronan there, which brought him some relief. She hadn’t lied to him.
    â€œWhen I left, he needed more time to recover,” Zia added.
    Artair could see worry written on her face as she occasionally gnawed at her plump lower lip. She obviously had reservations over Ronan’s departure.
    â€œI agree, but something continued to trouble him. I can only assume that was the reason for his departure,” Bethane said with her eyes on Artair.
    â€œHe must have been well enough to leave, if he walked out on his own accord,” Artair said and knew his brother well enough to know it was the truth.
    â€œHe was healing nicely,” Bethane said. “He was eating well, resting and growing stronger each day. He had improved greatly from when he first arrived.”
    Zia sighed. “I feel better knowing that.”
    Bethane placed a comforting hand on Artair’s arm. “I only wish I knew where he went. I can imagine how disappointing this is for you.”
    â€œI had hoped,” Artair said, and was suddenly struck by the resemblance between Bethane and Zia, elegant lines and angles with softness in every tender curve of their faces. It was as if the same craftsman carved them from the same stone, and Artair realized he was seeing for himself how beautifully Zia would age.
    Zia placed filled mugs and sweet bread with bramble jelly on the table. “I would have made him stay here until he was well enough to leave.”
    Bethane chuckled. “And for you, he probably would have stayed.”
    Artair bristled. “He found you appealing?”
    Zia looked affronted. “I was his healer.”
    Bethane smiled. “Most men find my granddaughter appealing. I believe it’s her passion for life that attracts them, though her exuberance could eventually wear a man down. It will take a special man to love her.”
    â€œIt is who I am,” Zia said without apology, and plopped in a chair opposite her grandmother, leaving