The Healer Page 10

  Forcing her legs to move, she began searching for the feverfew. Half a year had gone by and none of the herbs would be fresh. She wasn’t discouraged. Dried feverfew was just as effective as the newly picked plant.

  A portion of her mind was filled with anticipation of studying every corner of the room and its contents. Her remaining thoughts were of sadness for Jinny, and the determination to prove that healers were good and caring people.

  William must have been the one to cast Jinny aside. He needed his trust in healers to be restored and Lynelle was the one to do it.

  Had no one at Closeburn been sick for the last half year? Were the Kirkpatricks a healthy lot or were they suffering in silence? Once she’d gained William’s trust, she could then gain the trust of his people.

  Removing a stopper from another jar, she sniffed the wrinkled leaves within. The scent was less pungent now, but still unmistakably feverfew. She replaced the stopper and carried the earthen jar to the entry. Leaning against the doorframe to wait for Mary, she looked back into the chamber, absorbing the air of the past, someone else’s past, now enhanced by grime and cobwebs. She would ask to return here, to clean and to explore and perhaps make use of such abundance.

  A footfall from the passageway drew her attention and she turned, expecting to see Mary. As she peered into the shadows, she caught a glimpse of red hair, then nothing. Had the young woman who’d watched her in the great hall come looking for her? Lynelle sensed the woman wanted something from her, but what? She’d do her best to find out.

  Moments later, Mary came and escorted her back to her room, where she found a tray with steaming pheasant and an assortment of greens smothered in garlic. Lynelle’s mouth watered at the sight and smell of such lavish food and she almost forgot to ask about the red-haired woman.

  ‘Her name is Keita,’ Mary said as Lynelle sat down before her evening meal. ‘Why do you ask?’

  Lynelle shrugged. ‘I am curious.’ She took great care in rearranging the food on her trencher, fully aware of Mary’s intense regard.

  ‘I will see all is ready in Edan’s chamber,’ Mary finally said before leaving.

  Once alone, Lynelle savoured the delicious food, all the while planning a way to restore William’s faith in healers. She could simply tell him how good healers were, recounting several of Ada’s experiences to justify her claims. But would William fully understand? She didn’t think so. It would take something stronger than old tales to convince him. William needed to be included, to play a hands-on role in aiding the sick.

  If she pretended to be indisposed, she could ask for his assistance. Would he help? There was only one way to find out. Could she play him false? Yes, she believed she could if it meant renewing his trust in healers. What if he discovered her ruse? Lynelle shivered. She’d just have to make certain he didn’t.

  After a drink of water to wash down the most glorious meal she’d ever eaten, Lynelle wrapped her left hand in a bandage. To hide her supposed injury from Mary, she draped it with the clean bandages she’d use on Edan. She picked up her sack with her right hand and waited. Her belly churned with a mixture of fear at being caught out and excitement at the thought of sharing her world with William.

  Mary came and delivered her to Edan’s chamber. William opened the door and Lynelle’s stomach clenched at the sight of his serious expression. Her bound hand began to throb. She hastened into the room and halted at Edan’s side, as William bid Mary farewell and closed the door.

  ‘Good evening, Edan.’ She focused on the young man sitting upright against the pillows.

  ‘Good eve, Lynelle,’ Edan said. ‘You’ve come to change my bandages.’

  ‘Yes, and to make certain you haven’t lost your appetite.’

  ‘Not likely.’ His accompanying smile told her he’d enjoyed the meal as much as she had.

  ‘Mary tells me you found what you needed in the room below.’

  The sound of William’s deep voice shivered through her as she placed her sack on the end of the bed and withdrew its contents. ‘Yes.’ She paused after setting the mortar and pestle on the small table and finally looked at William. ‘I would like to return there, if permitted to do so.’

  His dark-lashed eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’

  She’d expected the question, but her courage dwindled a fraction beneath the intensity of his gaze. She resumed her unpacking and said, ‘I could make great use of the chamber’s contents. There is an abundance of herbs going to waste.’

  ‘Also a fair amount of dust, if I’m correct.’

  Lynelle looked up at William, wondering why he’d made such a comment. ‘Nothing that cannot be fixed with some care and cleaning.’

  She turned, busying herself with preparations.

  ‘You may visit the healing room, as long as someone is free to escort you.’

  Her eyes met his and her heart fluttered with excitement. ‘Thank you.’ She couldn’t believe he’d granted her wish without her having to beg.

  This time, William looked away first.

  She smiled down at Edan, with hope filling her chest. He smiled back.

  ‘What have you done?’

  William’s voice, almost a growl, made her flinch. His drawn eyebrows and dark flashing eyes caused her smile to slip. She followed his line of sight and realized he was staring at her bound left hand. In her budding excitement, she’d forgotten her plan.

  ‘‘Tis nothing.’

  ‘Are you injured?’

  ‘‘Tis nothing. Truly.’

  A bubble of guilt blossomed inside her. To play him false after he’d been so unexpectedly kind to her made her feel ill. But she remembered the reason for her deception, and the sharp reminder burst the tiny bubble and renewed her strength of purpose.

  ‘It will not hinder me while tending to Edan. But...I may need your assistance.’

  Lynelle imagined herself melting under his burning gaze.

  ‘My assistance? How?’

  She swallowed and pushed forward with her ruse. ‘If you could perhaps grind the herbs using the pestle...it would be a great help.’

  He stared.

  She felt herself wilting.

  ‘Show me.’

  She did.

  The pestle looked tiny when grasped in his large, powerful hand and the herb gave way beneath his ministrations with ease. She made the brew and sipped, then passed it on to William and then Edan to drink.

  When she began unravelling the bandages from Edan’s thigh and chest, her efforts made awkward by her bound hand, William helped her with the task. After she bathed the wound, testing the salve on her own flesh and then William’s, before finally smearing it on the intended injury, the laird aided her in redressing Edan’s leg.

  They worked in silence, heads bent close as they checked Edan’s other injuries. Heat radiated from William and she had to mask her altered breathing with every accidental brush of their fingers. An air of shared purpose permeated the room and she wondered if William felt it too. When all was done, Lynelle stood peering down at Edan, a flush of satisfaction warming her cheeks.

  ‘I bid you a good night, Edan.’

  ‘And I you, Lynelle. Thank you,’ Edan said.

  ‘It is not only I who has given you ease this night.’ She flicked a glance to the other side of the bed where William stood studying their handiwork.

  ‘Thank you, too, Will.’

  The laird appeared mildly distracted, but managed a slight nod.

  Lynelle gathered her things, bundled them into the sack and walked to the door. William appeared at her side and opened the door.

  Peering up into his handsome face she said, ‘Thank you for your help.’

  ‘For Edan’s sake.’

  A tiny jab of disappointment pricked her heart. Had she really thought he’d done it for her? ‘I will return in the morning, once you’ve broken your fast.’

  ‘I’ll be expecting you.’

  She turned and quickly crossed the hall into her room and closed the do
or. Leaning back against the thick oak panel, she tried to think of the good that had just happened and not dwell on her disappointment.

  She’d asked for William’s help and he’d given it. It was a start in her quest to renew his faith in healers.

  What more had she expected? That William had also felt the connection she had as they’d worked together. That he too had experienced the quiet sense of achievement with each passing moment. That he had the feeling of being an important part, a vital part of something special. With her.

  Not since Ada had she shared anything with another. But this was different.

  For Edan’s sake.

  He’d done what was necessary for his brother, that was all. She should be content.

  Then why did it feel as if a shadow blanketed her heart?

  ***

  William closed the door and wandered to one of the windows in the north-facing wall of the chamber. He stared out into the night, desperately trying to rid his mind of the Englishwoman’s face.

  ‘Lynelle is rather pretty, despite having dirt on her nose and cheek.’ It seemed his brother’s thoughts matched his.

  Aye. The smudge on the tip of her nose and the streak of dust high on her cheek, the cheek without the gash, gave her pretty face a new quality. With her wide, anxious eyes, she’d looked...sweet.

  ‘I thought of telling her,’ Edan went on, ‘but I didn’t want to upset her.’

  William had held his tongue for the very same reason. When he’d granted her leave to explore the room below stairs, the gratitude sparkling in her sapphire eyes had caused something warm to unfurl in his chest. He hadn’t liked the feeling.

  Then he’d spied her bandaged hand and a chill had dispelled the unwanted warmth. Her attempt to reassure him she was still able to care for Edan and then her request for him to help her had left him numb.

  What if he’d done something wrong?

  But he hadn’t. They hadn’t, and for the first time in his life he’d wondered if self-doubt ever travelled through a healer’s mind as they cared for the ill and injured.

  ‘Your leg is healing well,’ William said as he turned from the window. Soft snoring sounds greeted him. He walked to the bed and stared down at his brother. He looked so much younger while asleep. Clenching his fists against the tide of protective emotions surging through him, he praised God for Edan’s continued good health and silently thanked the healer for her skills.

  Mary had discovered little about the Englishwoman and the life she’d led before coming to Closeburn. He now knew the healer had lost someone dear to her, but didn’t know who the person was or how they’d died. The need to know everything about her grew stronger with each passing day, and although he fought against it and tried to pretend he wasn’t interested, he knew he was only fooling himself.

  Who or what had marked her cheek?

  Perhaps if he found out all about her, he’d be satisfied and could concentrate on other, more important things.

  He wandered back to the window, preparing for another long sleepless night, and peered out at the darkening sky. He’d granted her wish to explore the room below stairs. In return, he’d ask her a question about herself.

  A boon for a boon, and to his mind a fair exchange.

  Chapter 12

  AFTER breaking her fast the following morning, Lynelle almost forgot to bandage her hand and hide it from Mary before she returned to take her to Edan. She didn’t like the deception, but she must now follow it through. It was the only way she could see to continue William’s involvement in his brother’s recovery, and hopefully open his eyes to the greater good of healing.

  Edan’s spirits were high, a sign of much improvement. Once again, William ground the herb for her and they went through the ritual of testing the prepared potion. Edan’s dressings wouldn’t need changing again until nightfall.

  Gathering her belongings, fully aware the laird watched her with a heightened intensity that she tried to ignore, she walked to the door. But he barred her way, resting an open palm against the wood.

  Her heart jumped about in her chest at his nearness, but mostly because of his silent regard. Her fingers tightened about the sack in her unbound hand. She fixed her eyes on the lacings of his leather vest, doing her utmost to appear calm.

  ‘What happened to your face?’

  The low-voiced enquiry surprised her. A large hand lifted toward her, and as she closed her eyes she silently begged him not to touch her. A warm tingling erupted inside her every time she relived the accidental brushing of their fingers the night before.

  How would she react if he were to touch her cheek?

  But he didn’t.

  Tamping down the shadow of disappointment, she opened her eyes to find him watching her, his hand hanging in a fist at his side.

  ‘I have permitted you to explore the chamber below,’ he said quietly. ‘For this favour, I would ask a simple question in return. What happened to your face?’

  Dear God. Would he recant his permission if she refused to answer? How to respond and not give anything away?

  ‘I am ungainly at times. I fell,’ she said, not quite meeting his eyes. She had fallen, if only after her stepmother had slapped her, slicing open her cheek with bejewelled fingers. She lifted her bound hand and covered the healing wound.

  ‘You seem far from ungainly to me.’

  A whisper of warmth flittered through her chest at his remark. ‘Your words are kind.’ She held up her bandaged hand. ‘But see, I am awkward.’

  He held her with the power of his gaze, causing heat to fire her cheeks. She struggled to find enough air to draw a full breath. He wanted to say more, she could tell, but instead he looked past her and opened the door.

  She wanted to run but fought hard and held her pace to a walk from Edan’s chamber to hers. She gently shut the door instead of slamming it closed, as was her urge.

  Shivers rippled through her. Pressing her forehead against the cool wood, she waited for her body to stop shaking.

  There’d been wariness in his silver eyes, a mistrust not only of her as a healer, but of who she was as a person. If these people should discover who she was...

  Lynelle closed her eyes. It didn’t bear thinking about. Revealing her past frightened her more than anything.

  Though she was a prisoner of sorts here, she’d experienced freedoms she’d never known before. Simply talking with people, asking questions, giving voice to her beliefs, her thoughts, made her feel – dare she think it? – as if she belonged.

  But if William and his clansmen were to learn who she was and how her own people shunned her, she feared their natural curiosity and wariness would disappear. She could imagine their expressions altering to mirror the disdain upon the faces of those at Fenwick – those who deigned to look at her at all.

  William wanted to know all her secrets and truth to tell, she yearned to discover his.

  A knock shuddered through the door. Lynelle flinched and stepped back, trying to pull her thoughts into order.

  It must be Mary coming to take her to the healing chamber.

  She set the sack down and reached for the latch, her eyes widening when she noted the bandage still wrapped about her hand. With haste she unravelled it, stuffing the linen into the sack’s opening. Flexing her fingers, she again reached for the door.

  Mary’s kind face beamed at her. ‘Ach, I started to think you were still caring for the lad.’

  ‘No. I have already seen to Edan.’ She tried to smile, but her lips trembled as she struggled to banish the unnerving allure William cast over her even now.

  ‘Are you well, lass? You look flushed.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ Flushed was good, as she’d thought all her colour had rushed from her face to her toes. ‘Just eager to explore the room down the stairs.’

  Mary nodded. ‘Ah, well. Let’s be on our way, then.’

  Lynelle glanced at the door opposite as she passed, half expecting it to swing open and the laird to pounce on h
er with more questions. Thankfully, the door remained closed.

  She must be careful what she asked for in the future, if the consequences were William delving into her life.

  A flutter of anticipation built inside her as they descended the stairs to the hall. Mary stopped, seemingly to search the large room. Malcolm waved to his wife from across the vast chamber and Mary returned the gesture.

  ‘Ah, my dear husband.’ Mary turned to face her, a smile lighting her face. ‘Are you wed, Lynelle?’

  Lynelle’s heart skipped a beat. The warmth filling her heart at Mary and Malcolm’s obvious affection disappeared. It may only be a friendly enquiry, but it came so soon after William’s question that wariness seeped in.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Nae?’ Mary’s white brows shot up, almost reaching her hairline. ‘Well, I am surprised.’

  Mary’s response puzzled her. ‘Why?’

  ‘You’re a pretty lass, Lynelle. I imagined you had numerous men fighting to claim you as a wife.’

  Stunned, Lynelle stared at Mary. The woman had called her pretty. She’d never really thought about her appearance before, for she looked as she did and there was nothing she could do to change it.

  ‘Now it is you who acts surprised,’ Mary said, studying her.

  Lynelle’s discomfort grew beneath Mary’s steady regard.

  Mary’s thick white brows lowered over soft grey eyes. ‘Has nae one ever called you pretty?’

  Lynelle had been told she was many things, but pretty was never one of them. ‘No.’

  A fleeting sadness clouded Mary’s eyes, before the usual sparkle returned. ‘Then I am blessed to be the first.’ Her hand stretched forward and gently patted Lynelle’s arm.

  A sense of wonder flooded Lynelle. ‘Why have you been so good to me, Mary?’

  ‘Are there reasons I should not be?’ She said it with a smile, but more than simple curiosity glistened in the older woman’s gaze.