Read Online To Bewitch a Highlander (Isle of Mull series) by Lily Baldwin - Free Book Online

“You do not feel feverish.”
    “I am hungry and tired. Please, I really must rest.”
    “Let me roll out your pallet, and you can lie down while I prepare the meat and ale.”
    Shoney appeared to rest while Ronan retrieved their nourishment, but in truth her mind was racing. Often her visions were symbolic, requiring interpretation, but tonight’s vision conveyed a clear message. The man with the blue eyes needed a healer, but trapped in the belly of a stone beast above the rising ocean tides, her skills were useless. Ronan was not going to let her leave without explanation. She simply had no choice but to try to push the man from her thoughts.
    “Here, let me help you sit up”, he said as he slid his broad hand underneath her back and lifted her upward to a seated position.
    His hand covered a large expanse of her back, demonstrating once again his size and strength. He gave her the food and drink, which she gratefully accepted and gulped down.
    “Thank you,” she said. “This is a welcomed surprise.”
    “I have never brought anyone up here before. You are a welcomed surprise,” he smiled.
    Shoney felt herself blush. As she reached for more meat, she brushed against his plaid. “Ronan, you are still wet. You ought to change as well.”
    Shoney turned her head toward the cave wall. She waited for him to make a quip about having already seen him naked, but he refrained, which she was glad for—she had blushed enough for one night.
    “I am decent”, he said.
    She looked up at him and admired his tall form. His plaid slashed across his broad chest and over one of his powerful shoulders. The brawn of his torso slimmed out at his waist where his skirt began. The material fell in folds just at his knees, revealing muscular calves. The light provided by the fire revealed numerous scars that twisted his skin. They were reminders of battles fought alongside and on behalf of his kinsmen, men and women who wore the same plaid that she wore now.
    The plaid .
    The man with blue eyes wore the muted green and orange of the MacKinnon plaid. The man in her vision belonged to Ronan’s clan. Perhaps he was even a close friend or relation. Guilt swept through her, twisting her stomach into tight knots. She now regretted having eaten so quickly. She could not tell Ronan that his clansmen lie beaten and likely dying on the moors. He would ask how she came by the information, and what explanation could she give? I can see beyond what my eyes allow, but I am not a witch . His prejudice would blind him, and he would hate her. The idea of Ronan hating her unsettled her stomach even further. She had to act fast or lose her supper.
    She had only one option—to lie. But she was barely staying afloat in the sea of fabrications she spewed earlier. This new deception demanded simplicity, or else it would lead to questions that might pull her under.
    A harmless lie came to her, and although weak, it seemed uncontrived. Shoney’s hand flew to her neck.
    “My pendant is gone.” She scurried off her pallet and lifted it to look beneath.
    “Please, Ronan, ‘tis dear to me. Help me look,” she implored as she sifted through their wet clothes, shaking them as if hoping to uncover her treasure.
    “Bridget, I do not remember ever seeing a token around your neck.”
    Damn him.
    “I believe ‘tis something I would have noticed,” he said.
    Mother of all, rot the black-haired man, but there was no turning back now.
    “My father and mother fashioned a pendant for me from small white shells. ‘Tis all I have by which to remember them. I cannot go on without it.” She pinched herself to produce a few tears for good measure.
    He grasped her shoulders. “Hush, Bridget. You must calm down. Your necklace is not here, of this I am certain. Nor did you have it at the pool when you ran from me. Together we will search for it in the morning.”
    “No, it cannot wait until morning”, she cried. “Someone might find it first. The moon will be at