"Chamomile, Ivy and Willow Bark," I whisper to the clerk, eyes flickering through the assortments of healing remedies. Since Lachlan didn't have another residential healer hired after MacCallan, I've taken the pleasure of riding out to the village every couple of months to stock up on remedies.

I've always loved doing it. It's given me time to call upon Greer and her husband- keep in touch.

"Here ye are, milady," the man with a head full of red, curly hair exclaims exuberantly. I smile and nod.

"Thank you."

Turning, I step out into the street, rather empty today due to the scattered storms. I clutch my basket tight to my body and press on my hair, hoping to maintain the frizz.

To focused on making it around a large puddle, I bump into someone, falling straight into the water, ungracefully. Arms grasp mine tightly. I look up and my heart stops immediately.

"Oh, I'm... s-sorry," MacCallan breathes, looking up from the ground. Someone behind him collides with his back and he moves towards me once more.

"I'm sorry- laddie... Ma'am," the gentleman apologizes, slapping MacCallan's back warmly. I still haven't been able to tear my eyes from his. He swallows, mortified and looks away first, backing up immediately.

"I'm sorry," he utters, holding out his hand to help me out of the water. I take it, chuckling awkwardly.

"No... I'm sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going."

He holds up a book, nodding. His hair is pulled back into a dull blue ribbon. "Aye, as was I."

I smile, unable to help myself. "What-what are you doing here? I heard the men were out on a hunt?"

"Aye, I had some things to pick up from town before we set off."

"Oh..." I wish I were brave enough to ask him about the girl, but I know I'm not brave enough to hear the answer.

He nods, looking down. "I- should be gettin' on. It will be nightfall soon."

My heart beats a thump faster suddenly. "Well, I'm headed that way- I'll- we could catch u-"

He looks down, uncomfortably and I feel a pain sharp in my ribs. "Aye, well, it wouldn't be proper... Anyway, there's a man watching us rather closely behind the building a couple feet away."

I turn, finding one of Lachlan's closest friends watching us. Seeing me glare, he looks down. I gape at him, fuming.

"I'm sorry- I didn't know he'd have me... followed."

"It's fine," he murmurs, detachedly, looking anywhere but at my face. "I'll be leavin' ye now."

And he does, headed for the place I just exited. I drop my head, closing my eyes in regret. I'm not even able to convince myself that experience went anyway but south.

...

"You had me followed?!" I bellow, entering the study. Lachlan looks up from the papers scattered all over his desk, pressing his lips together.

"I don't like ye goin' out in storms on your own."

"Bullshit!" I snap, shutting the door. "You did it so I wouldn't speak with MacCallan!"

"Yet ye did."

"Not on purpose! Jesus! Nothing is enough for you!"

His brows curve into each other and he leans back in his seat. "What do ye mean by that?"

"Exactly what I said! Nothing is ever enough with you. You are never satisfied!"

"The man entertained your thoughts for years, Gillian! Of course I'm going to have someone watching you!"

"That's sick! You can't just trust me?"

"I don't even think ye trust yourself," he says, standing.

I grit my teeth together. "It better stop, Lachlan. I mean it! I will not be followed day and night in my own home!"

"Aye, ye will," he counters, standing up in my face. I tilt by head back to look into his eyes, unmoving.

"You will not touch me again if you do."

He reaches out, grasping my face tightly. "Is that so?"

I pull his hand off my skin, smiling daringly. "Yes."

He tilts his head down, taking my mouth viciously, despite my pounding into his chest. Pulling back, he shakes his head side to side.

"That's not up to ye, understand?"

The tears well up in my eyes, but my face remains unchanging. "You're the same fucking asshole I married. I can't even believe I thought you had changed!"

"I am not the same man I was. I'm set into my ways now... I have no confusion. I know what I want. I know what I have. Something that will never be his... I will see to that."

"I'll never be yours," I reply, staring into his eyes wildly. His brows deflate at the words but I continue. "I don't care if you hit me. Fuck me. I don't care what you do to try and change that. While I'm stuck in this goddamn life with you, I am his, heart and soul! There is nothing that will change that!"

At my last syllable, I gasp for breath, finally blinking. He stares at me, looking as if he hadn't released a breath in minutes, his face contorted and red. In a moment that seems to slow down time, I find myself cowering as his hand comes up close to my face.

"I should do it... for speaking to me like that."

"Do it then," I spit out with hatred. "It will not change a damn thing."

We stare, eye to eye, for what seems like an eternity.

"It seems we're back at square one," he growls, dropping his hand finally. I don't dare show him my relief.

"So it would seem."

"You're-" He doesn't even finish. Pushing me to the side, he pulls open the door to the room and leaves. I place my hand on his desk, balancing myself from collapsing from fear.

"NOW! I'll speak with ye now!" Lachlan shouts from afar and I gasp, shooting forward for the door. Lachlan is fuming in MacCallan's doorway, in his unmoving face.

"I said now!"

"And I said lead the way," MacCallan replies, sternly.

He's unafraid and it shows, only seeming to infuriate Lachlan more. Someone opens their door, probably from the shouts and Lachlan points at them. The door shuts immediately.

"Get in here," Lachlan snaps to me, storming into the study. MacCallan comes up after him, reaching out for my arm in a brave move. I look from his hand to his face, scared.

"Has he harmed ye?"

I shake my head, swallowing. "No."

"Get your hands off my wife, Mackenzie," Lachlan says, standing by the desk. MacCallan steps forward, entering before me.

"Well, I'd naturally ask, considering your past in harming his woman."

"Close the door, Gillian."

"We don't need to do this. Whatever this is," I whisper, glancing between them. "I'm married to you, Lachlan."

"Aye, ye are. So, do as I say."

I turn and shut the door, gently, closing my eyes.

"I have one thing to ask ye, MacCallan, and I'd like it to be the truth."

"Ye may ask. I may decline."

"I am laird here and ye are my guest."

"I've pledged no oath to ye, sir."

"You're under my roof!"

"Just ask what you want to ask, Lachlan," I say, crossing my arms over my body. He looks between us, for what seems like a lifetime, obviously enjoying the intimidating factor.

"Have you or have you not slept with my wife?"

My arms go weak and I let out a breath of shock. No... Oh God, no.

"Have ye really sent for me for that?"

"Aye, I have."

"Well, I dinnae need to answer ye, Lachlan."

"While you're under my roof, ye will. And you'll address me formally as ye are no friend of mine."

"I'll not leave her, with you like this."

I step forward, attempting to keep the peace. "Let's-"

Lachlan holds his hand up, silencing me. I glare at him and he smirks.

"That statement tells me what I needed to get."

He lungs at MacCallan, catching him off guard and slams him into the ground with a shout. I gasp in horror as Lachlan's fist pounds into his jaw, sending MacCallan's head back towards the ground.

"Stop!"

MacCallan growls, kneeing Lachlan in the gut and flips him over, shaking his head. "You've not gotten any better at fightin', that's for sure, Laird Macintosh."

"I'll kill ye!" Lachlan shouts, reaching for his knife.

"Stop!" I scream, gasping as he draws the blade from his boot. Shock crosses over MacCallan's features as he holds his arm up in time before the blade went through his chest.

This isn't fake. This isn't my imagination.

My husband is trying to kill- the love of my life.

Blood spills onto MacCallan's forearm, filling the sleeve and he releases a grunt, closing his eyes in pain. He's dressed in only his shirt and plaid. He has nothing to defend himself with.

"You'll never have her. I willnae let ye!" Lachlan growls, face to face with him. He's being held down still by MacCallan's unmoving arm. The veins in his throat widen as he tries to push Lachlan's knife further away from his chest with his wounded arm.

My feet fall forward and trembling, I reach for Lachlan's arm, clasping on tight.

"Stop it! Stop, please!"

"Let me go, Gillian!" Lachlan bellows, red and monstrous.

With a painful gasp, MacCallan utters, "Go, Gillian."

"I won't!"

With as much force as I can, I pull Lachlan's arm as hard as I can back from Callan's arm, not realizing that the force he was using for pressure would still be there. Not realizing that his blade would come back- in my direction.

The blade punctures deep, just above my rib cage, before his hand bounces back towards MacCallan, as if he hadn't hit me. There's no pain at first- just shock as my arms lose hold on his skin.

Everything goes silent for a few fleeting moments before chaos ensues.

"GILLIAN!" MacCallan cries, in horror. I press my hand to my stomach, grimacing as the blood flows over my fingers down my dress. I look back up in a daze, falling back a step as Lachlan, gasping for breath, stares at the blood on his blade and then to my body.

"Oh my G-God," he utters, slowly, falling back onto the floor. "Oh my God, Gillian."

MacCallan scrambles off the ground, catching my body before I collapse. "Gillian."

I blink rapidly, feeling as if all my air left in my body were leaving me like a needle unplugging from a balloon. I'm going to die. "C-Callan."

"I'm-I'm so sorry, Gillian," Lachlan says, moving to where I'm laying.

"Get her up and onto the desk, now!" MacCallan shouts, sternly. I let out a cry as I feel calloused hands leave me, and another's lift me off the ground. I can't see anymore. I can't open my eyes.

"Gillian, oh God. No," I hear Lachlan sob. "Open your eyes, open them."

There's the sound of papers flying and I'm set down onto the wood.

"Callan? Where's- where's-" I utter desperately.

The door shuts loudly and I hear the sound of metal clashing together. And suddenly, I hear MacCallan's voice ring again, breathless. "I'm here, Gillian. I'm here, mo ghràidh, stay awake... Keep your eyes open."

There's a loud sound next to my ear.

"Please, save her. Please," Lachlan begs, his voice thick with tears.

"I-I can't breathe," I get out, gasping for breath.

"Cut her bodice, now. I need to stop the blood and close the wound."

"Okay- okay."

"NOW!"

"I'm going!" There's a sound of tearing fabric and I feel cold breeze against my skin.

"Speak to her, make sure she remains conscious," MacCallan says, firmly but out of breath.

"Wait- you're going to do it with nothing? She's going to be in more pain!"

"I dinnae have time."

"But-"

I feel a puncture into my skin and groan, opening my eyes at the impact.

"There's nothing that's worse than what she's feeling now! Now, speak to her, damn ye!"

"Gilly, look at me. Look at me." There are hands on my face and I force my eyelids open, despite the pain. Lachlan's lips tremble as tears flow down his face. "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm- I love ye. I never- meant-"

"Speak to her of things she loves. Horses, nature... Something other than your damned apologies!"

I let out a sound, feeling my skin being pulled, stretching the two pieces closer together and close my eyes, feeling unspeakable pain. Pain that will take me under.

"Uh, um, I-I'm-"

"Gillian, open your eyes. Lachlan, do it!"

"I dinnae ken what she loves! I don't!" he shouts loudly, panicked. There's suddenly silence- only the sound of their breaths combined and mine, heavy and inconsistent.

He looks back at me, and I see the shame. Suddenly, the other man in the room speaks, his voice breathless and determined.

"... The smell of freshly-plowed dirt, she loves... The books in the library, especially the ones with the pictures inside- she said they calmed her. She loves- loves the glen, on the way to the village because she could collect stones among the edge and always find perfect circles."

MacCallan's words do what he says they do. I think of the things I've grown to love here and feel a rushing sense of calm, imagining my strolls. Or scaling the bookshelves for new books. But, I don't even believe it's just that.

It's the fact that in one week, MacCallan managed to study me enough to know me better than the man that sleeps beside me everyday.

"She-she loves the falling of the leaves, um, listening to Ann's daily gossiping ritually every morning. The seconds before midnight- she said she believed anything could happen in those minutes before... dancing." His voice is thick with unshed tears as he continues.

I feel my body lift, almost as if floating upwards towards the roof. I'm unable to open my eyes any longer. I don't feel the pain of the needle any longer.

I feel at home, listening his voice.

"Daffodil's and-and freshly-baked scones... Poetry. The- the chapel, just outside the castle..."