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Authors: Elaine Coffman

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BOOK: Lord of the Black Isle
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It was still early when she finished, so she blew out the candles and went outside. The sun was rising in a glory of orange, red, and yellow, a dawn worthy of greeting the goddess Aurora. It had been a chill night, but the day would bring warmth, for already the first rays of sun breathed a white mist over the ancient tombstones where the Lords of Kinloss slept in silence below.

She turned once to glance back at the hospital, the gray granite fortress that echoed the voices of the past and the chants of friars. She walked past the gurgling mouths of grimacing gargoyles, and then she continued down a narrow trail through the foliaged tracery of towering trees to walk down a well-worn cart road before she turned onto a footpath, narrow and winding. The sky was clear and the sun casting its warmth in brilliant, rosy light that shimmered through the ragged edges of trees that looked sharp and black against the crisp blue of sky overhead. She heard the gurgling of Markie Burn before she saw it rattling down from the higher elevations, and she knew she was drawing near the beautiful little pool that was clear and fair as a fairy's haunt.

She sat on a rock and removed her sturdy shoes and wondered what her mother did with all her wonderful high heels left in her closet, especially the Jimmy Choos she found on sale at Nordstrom and never got to wear. She thought about all the clothes she had and her mementos like her cheerleader uniform and her diploma from medical school.

She needed to get her mind off such. Lord above! She didn't know what was happening to her. She wasn't the whiney, sniveling type, and had no reason to be so now when she had nice home, a wonderful hospital, and a strong, loving man whose sister was her best friend.
So
what
ails
you, Elisabeth? Why can you not enjoy life's bounty that you have been given? Why do you fear the rap and knock of something evil trying to take it all away from you? You are stronger than that.

Giving her head a good shake, she thought that maybe a good foot-dunking in the icy water of Markie Burn would shock some sense into her. She removed her shoes and knew the water would be cold, but the chill was actually comforting. She wondered if she was becoming a Scot in nature, for the cold did not bother her as much as it did when she first arrived. Suddenly, she felt another wave of homesickness and the niggling feeling that something was about to happen. She shouldn't be here. She did not belong. “You are not a Scot and you will never be a Scot,” she said aloud. “You are a foreigner in a foreign land.”

A whirlwind blew down from the mountain's brow and rattled through a stand of trees, sending a flutter of leaves floating down. “Och, so it is time fer a bit o' wallowing in self-pity, is it? I overestimated ye, lass, fer I thought ye to be made of a stronger constitution.”

“Don't mess with me. I'm as cross as two sticks,” she said.

“I was thinking cross as two crabs, but I will go with yer sticks if it suits ye.” She turned her head and saw him, looking quite splendid and displaying a brilliant smile that made her want to shove him in the water. “So, which is it? Did you come here to gloat or gripe?”

Sir James smiled and walked over to a nearby rock and sat down, and her jaw dropped. “Why are you sitting down?”

He gave her a curious look and asked, “Why not? Ye are sitting doon.”

“I'm not dead.”

“Is sitting reserved only for the living?”

“Why would you need to sit? You're a ghost. Don't tell me your feet hurt?”

“Nae, they dinna… 'tis one of the benefits of ghosting, ye ken.”

“So, why are you here? Just for a friendly chat? I will warn you that I'm not the friendly, chatty type, especially right now.”

“Aye, I ha' been coming to the same conclusion over these past few days. What ails ye?”

“I don't know. Things are going very well for me, and I truly feel I have a home here. And David…”

His brows rose and she said, “Never mind about David. He is doing fine.”

“Aye, I ken he is happy as a mudlark.”

She gave him a serious stare, trying to decide if he had been present when she made love with David.

“Nae, I wasna,” he said, “but I was aware o' it.”

“Nothing escapes you, does it?”

“I wouldna be a good guardian if I didna keep up wi' ye.”

“Well, see that you don't overdo it.”

“So tell me what ails ye, in spite of everything being rosy wi' Kinloss?”

“It isn't anything that has happened. It's a feeling that I have, that something is
going
to
happen
.”

“Have ye no heard that ye shouldna give the deil so much notice?”

“That's just it! I think he is giving me too much notice.”

“‘Sweet are the uses of adversity, which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, wears yet a precious jewel in his head.'”

She raised her brows at that one and said, “That sounds far too poetic for you.”

He laughed. “Aye, flowery prose was never my calling. 'Tis Shakespeare, but I asked his permission to use it.”


You
what?
You asked Shakespeare? Truly?”

“Aye. 'Twould be plagiarism if I didna, would it not?”

She smiled. “I never thought of a ghost worrying about breaking the law.” She sighed. “What was the rest of that quote? I remember memorizing it once, in junior high, I think.”

“‘And this our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.'”

She sighed. “Sometimes I think I'm stuck in the toad ugly and venomous stage.”

“'Twill not be much longer, lass, and yer trial by fire will be over. Just because the road darkens is no reason to turn back.”

“What trial by fire?”

“Ye will ken when it arrives.”

She raised her brows to hover over the direct stare. “And just how much longer will that be?”

“Weel, I canna say much aboot that, ye see. I can only encourage ye to stay the course when it does, and not let every little gale blow ye oot to sea.”

She sighed and rested her chin in her hands and thought about their visit. “I'm glad you came. I needed to talk to someone.”

“Aye, I
was
summoned to haste here forthwith.”

“I worry about my future.”

“Worry will change naught. Follow the path and dinna stray. It only lengthens yer journey when ye do.”

“How will I know the path? Are you going to give me a hint?”

“Nay, ye should understand by now that ye will know it when the time comes, and if ye dinna, something will happen to get ye in the place ye were meant to be. Ye canna change yer destiny. Remember that. Change the things ye can change, and accept those which ye canna change. And keep a cheerful heart, no matter what.”

Up went her brows. She did not like the sound of that. “What do you mean,
no
matter
what
?”

He stood and his image began to shimmer and sparkle, and then it faded like a million raindrops falling to the ground.

Things
are
often
difficult
before
they
are
easy, lass…

His image was gone, so she leaned forward and started to pick up her shoes, then changed her mind. Instead, she removed her clothes and waded into the water. It was cold, but she would swim a bit and that would warm her.

She hadn't swum for very long when she felt something grab her leg and she screamed, just before she was pulled under and wrapped in David's arms. She shoved him away and broke the surface, gasping for air, her heart pounding faster than she thought possible. He surfaced and reached for her, and she splashed water in his face. “You frightened me to death! How did you know I was here?”

“A blind man crawling on all fours could follow yer trail, lass.”

“Don't be clever. You aren't my favorite person of the day right now.” She swam toward shallow water, but when she started to leave, his arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her against him.

“Yer slippery as a troot.”

His hands were roaming everywhere. “I'm a little peeved at you, so don't try to be amorous.”

“Peeved? Why?”

She pondered whether or not she should tell him what had been eating at her all day. But, she knew if she told him he would laugh and think she was being silly. “Besides, I'm freezing and I want to get out.”

He put his arms around her and held her close, and soon his body began to warm her. Kissing her hair, he rested his chin on her head and said, “What bothers ye?”

“Why didn't you wake me before you left this morning?”

He pulled back and looked down at her upturned face. “Ye are upset because I didna wake ye? Did ye wish to get up early? Ye had somewhere to go?”

She wanted to hit him. Was he a blockhead? Without thinking, she blurted out, “No, I wanted… oh, never mind.” She shoved at him and made a move to turn away, but he caught her and pulled her close, while he looked down at her. She swore to Zeus, if there had been the slightest hint of a smile on his face, she would have punched him then and there, but his expression was serious. Feeling ashamed, she lowered her head, preferring not to let him see her face, for fear he could read her thoughts.

He put his hand beneath her chin and tilted her face up, and for a moment he only searched it as if he would find answers written there. And then his look softened. “Ah, lass… my lass… ye wanted me to make love to ye again.”

It sounded so ridiculous and childish when he said it that she said, “We should go. Someone might see us.”

“Shhhh… everything comes to those who wait.”

She frowned, for that sounded very familiar.

He wrapped her in his arms. “Ye are a woman every man dreams of. How can I make ye understand that a lifetime of making love to ye twice a day would never be enough?” He wrapped her in his arms and pressed a kiss against the top of her head. “I canna promise to start each and every day off with lovemaking, lass, but I will promise to do my best.”

She had a good comeback for that one, but David, smart man, took over and kissed her before she could speak. By the time the kiss ended, he was standing in chest-high water with Elisabeth's legs wrapped around him, and by that time, she forgot all about pushing him away.

His hands were cupping her backside and guiding their movement until she shuddered and buried her face against his neck. When she caught her breath, she bit him.


Owww!
Why did ye bite me?”

“Because I wanted the last word.”

She decided there was no lovelier sound in the entire world than the sound of David Murray when he laughed.

Chapter 15

Do not be misled by the fact that you

are at liberty and relatively free;

that for the moment you are not under lock and key:

you have simply been granted a reprieve.

—“A Warsaw Diary” (1985)

Ryszard Kapuscinski (1932–2007)

Polish journalist

Everyone had left the hospital and the last patient had gone home. It had been a long week. Ailis and Elisabeth were both exhausted, but thankfully, toward the end of the day, things began to slow down somewhat.

Elisabeth said good night to Ailis and began to blow out the candles. She heard someone enter and turned around. David stood there watching her. “I was beginning to think ye were going to stay the night.”

She put her hands on her waist and kneaded her back. “Not tonight. I am beyond tired of this place. It's been a very long day. My back feels like an entire Roman legion has used it for a footbridge.”

“I know something that would be good for it,” he said, taking her in his arms and holding her close.

Her arms went around him, and she tilted her head back and smiled. “I do wonder why we have a need for medicine at all, with the male of the species being quite capable of the sexual healing of everything from ingrown toenails to brain surgery. How are you at performing miracles?”

He took her in his arms. “Come here and let me show ye.” His eyes were bright and teasing, and when he smiled, she was mesmerized by it. He was truly beautiful when he smiled, with his long, dark hair tied back, black lashes a woman would covet, and the barest suggestion of dimples that made her want to kiss him there.

“There are many who think yer work in the hospital is a miracle. Ye are a gifted healer, Elisabeth, but I canna say I am no' jealous of the time ye spend here, of the attention ye give to others, when I want all of yer attention all of the time.”

“Now, that would prove to be rather boring for both of us.”

“Never,” he said and held her close, trying to lighten the heaviness he felt in his heart. Of late, Elisabeth seemed preoccupied, and he feared she was drifting away from him. His thoughts were interrupted by a vision of himself as a young boy, the day his favorite deerhound died. His mother wrapped him in her arms and said, “Dinna grieve so, David, for ye canna ever keep that which was never yours.”

Had he been wrong about her, this beautiful gift of womanhood that had come into his life from another time and place? Had she never belonged to him because she was destined to belong to someone else? David knew she was loved by everyone at Aisling and considered a blessing from above, which she was. He was thinking about making love to her again tonight, as he watched her as she blew out the last candle and they left the abbey.

On the way back, she slipped her arm through his and leaned her head against his shoulder. She was suddenly overcome with the need to be close to him, for being with him gave her such peace, and she thanked God for putting this wonderful man in her life. She could not imagine what her life would be like without him.

An owl hooted and a breeze stirred the leathery leaves of the trees. The evening was cool, the castle dark, with only a few dim hints of light proving that any windows existed in the great fortress. When they stepped inside, all was quiet, with only the night guards and a torch bearer awake. David nodded at the torch bearer and they followed him wordlessly down the long gallery to the stairs. Once they reached the top, he opened the door and with a glance at the torch bearer said, “Light the candle by the bed.”

A golden glow suffused the room with golden magnificence, for the light illuminated the gold and silver threads in the embroidered wall hangings. They stood silently waiting until the torch bearer left, then Elisabeth turned to say good night.

David kissed her, and she turned and went into the room and closed the door behind her. A short while later, she was in her gown and about to get into bed when the door opened. She heard the noise and turned quickly and, seeing David, released a ragged breath. “You scared me! Why did you come back?”

He crossed the room quickly and took her in his arms. “I came back because I couldna leave ye.” He took her in his arms and pulled her close. “Although I have thought aboot what I am going to say many times, I never seemed to find the right time to say it. I canna wait any longer, Elisabeth. Marry me and do me the great honor of becoming my wife.”

She put her arms around him and held him tightly, as if by doing so she could keep him beside her forever, but her future, like theirs, was filled with uncertainty. “Oh, David, I love you, but I cannot marry you, at least not now,” she said, whispering the words against the warm strength of his neck.

He pulled back and placed his forefinger beneath her chin and lifted her face toward his, while he searched her eyes, as if he could find the reason for her words there. “'Tis because of him, isn't it? Ye fancied yersel' over yer heartbreak at losing Mackinnon, only now ye realize ye willna ever stop loving him.”

She shook her head, knowing this was painful for him, just as it was painful for her. She kissed the strong cords of his neck and tried to memorize the masculine fragrance of him. “No, you are wrong. I could never have made love with you if Ronan still claimed my heart. Of course he will always be a presence in my memory, for it is impossible to pretend he did not exist or that I did not love him, for I did and deeply. But it was never our fate to be together and I have left that heartache behind me. That does not mean it has been completely erased, any more than you can erase the memory of the family members you have lost.”

“Then why say ye nay to my proposal?”

“I say it because I must. Not by choice but demanded by the uncertainty of my fate. I don't know what the future holds for me.”

“Whatever it is, we will deal wi' it together. I will always be by yer side, lass. I willna leave ye,” he said, and swept her into his arms. He carried her to the bed and lowered her to stand beside it. The moon moved behind a cloud and the room grew darker.

“Take off yer clothes. I want to lie beside ye with naught between us.”

She knew that was his way of saying he did not want to talk about it right now, and truthfully, neither did she, for she liked his idea ever so much better. “You first,” she said, smiling.

If there was ever a time in history when men were modest, it wasn't in this century, for he stripped off his tunic and trews, and lay down to watch her.

Elisabeth blew out the candle, dropped her robe, and leaped into bed.

“St. Columba! I ha' never seen a woman who could snuff a candle and be in bed afore it got dark.”

“Oh, David, you haven't seen anything yet.”

“Truly?”

“Yes, truly,” she said, and she proceeded to show him.

***

David awakened her the next morning with lovemaking, and she was as touched by his gentleness now as she had been by his passion the night before. She knew she was madly, hopelessly, crazily in love with him, and she enjoyed the moment, knowing he felt the same about her.

When she left the bed later, she decided to wear her dark green dress with the fabric that resembled lightweight linen. It had large pockets, which she insisted upon for the hospital, and she wore it with only one petticoat, which made moving around the hospital much easier. Once she was there, she would put on her apron.

She picked up the petticoat and stepped into it, and then slipped on the dress. A few minutes later, she went downstairs for breakfast, but before she could take her first bite, Taran came rushing into the hall.

“Come quick!” he said. “They have brought a lass burning wi' the fever. She doesna look like she will live much longer.”

Elisabeth rushed toward the hospital with Taran. Once they arrived, he said, “I told the lassie's mother to remove her clothes, leaving just her chemise.”

“Excellent decision, Taran, for that is exactly what I would have said. You are going to make a fine doctor one day.”

“Aye, if ye teach me,” Taran said, as he held the oak door open.

“Of course I shall teach you,” Elisabeth said, rushing through the door at a fast pace. “There is enough work for a dozen doctors on the Black Isle,” she said, hearing the sound of Taran running to catch up with her.

Elisabeth washed her hands while she asked the mother questions regarding her daughter. The girl's name was Mary Morrison. She was sixteen and had been sick for four or five days and running a fever. She had a constant headache and complained of her neck hurting, especially when she tried to turn it.

Meningitis…
The dreaded word came immediately to Elisabeth's mind, for the symptoms were aligning in the right order… high temperature, the stiffness of her neck, the headache. True, the symptoms were all there, but to know for certain, she would need to run tests. Since that was not possible, her only other option was to make educated guesses on this one, because she had no access to the things she would need to draw spinal fluid or blood, or any way to test it even if she could.

There were two kinds of meningitis. The most common was viral and easier to treat. Unfortunately, she suspected the girl had the more dangerous type, bacterial meningitis, which could be life threatening without antibiotics, preferably given intravenously. However, there were no antibiotics and no IVs since they had yet to be discovered or developed. She would have to diagnose and treat this without any of the modern equipment she was trained with.

She paused, recalling one of her professors in a medical history course who wrote on the blackboard a quote from the ancient Greek physician Hippocrates: “Foolish the doctor who despises the knowledge acquired by the ancients.”

Well, she wouldn't be foolish, for knowledge acquired by the ancients was all she had, at least when it came to medicines. Elisabeth turned away, drying her hands as she did, and approached the table where the girl lay, still as a corpse and very pale, her breathing quite shallow.

Elisabeth placed her hand on Mary's head. She was burning up, but without a thermometer, Elisabeth couldn't be sure how high her temperature was. If she were to hazard a guess, she would say around 104 or 105, and that was dangerously high. The major threat facing her now was hyperpyrexia, and that meant there would be permanent brain damage if the fever rose above 106. The fever had to come down immediately or the girl could go into convulsions, and they had no ice to pack around her burning body.

Elisabeth paused, thinking what the ancients might have done, and it hit her that there may be no ice available, but there was a burn not far away and the water, she knew from her swim, was very cold. She turned to Taran. “We have to get the fever down and quickly.” She decided it would be best to give Mary the ancients' remedy for fever and decided to give her the maximum amount of willow bark now in order to get it into her system. She prayed that and the cold burn would work together to begin to bring down the fever. It was an ancient remedy that went back to the times of the ancient Greeks, for Hippocrates wrote of its medicinal properties. She glanced toward Taran. “Go to the apothecary and bring me the willow bark tablets we compounded.”

Taran was back quickly, and Elisabeth mashed some of the tablets and mixed them with water. “Hold her head up. I need to spoon this into her mouth and pray she swallows it.”

It wasn't easy, but when Elisabeth pushed the spoon of medicine toward the back of the girl's throat, her gag reflex caused her to swallow it.

When the mixture was all gone, Elisabeth turned around quickly and asked, “Can you carry her, Taran?”

“Aye, I am strong and she is a wee lass. Where are we taking her?”

“To the burn. We need to get her into the water.”

“Faith! 'Tis no a guid time fer a bath, with the lass as sick as she is. And the water is verra cold. 'Twill make her shiver.”

“Right now, cold is what I want. We must hurry. Pick her up and come with me. Make haste, Taran. We haven't time to waste.”

Elisabeth snagged a sheet and a couple of smaller cloths from the shelf as they walked out of the room. Several people followed, but she stopped long enough to say, “Her mother may accompany us. The rest of you will remain here.”

When they reached the burn, Elisabeth handed the sheet to the mother. “You wait here and hold the blanket. We will get it wet and wrap her in it before we take her back to the hospital.”

Elisabeth removed her shoes and waded out, then held out her arms and said to Taran, “Let me have her while you remove your boots.”

Taran handed the girl to her and Elisabeth lowered herself until the water was up to her neck. Mary began to shiver. Elisabeth looked at the mother. “I know it is cold, but it will help lower Mary's fever and help to bring down her body temperature.”

Taran joined her, and she handed the girl to him. “Try to lower her a little more to keep as much of the back of her head submerged as you can, while I bathe her face with a cloth.” She dipped the cloth in the water and began to bathe the front and sides of the girl's neck, for it was good to concentrate on the areas where major veins and arteries were, and also where the carotid artery and jugular vein were near the surface.

“How long do we keep the lass here?”

“Until I see her fever has dropped,” Elisabeth said, deciding she would explain to him later that they had to bring the girl's heated body down to its core temperature, or she could convulse and suffer from deafness, brain damage or, in case of such a high fever, even death.

When Mary's fever had dropped sufficiently, they wrapped her in the wet blanket and carried her back to the hospital. Elisabeth decided to go with her gut feeling and treat the girl for bacterial meningitis. If instead she happened to have viral meningitis, the treatment for bacterial meningitis wouldn't hurt her. But, if she had bacterial meningitis and they treated her for the viral form, Mary could die before they had time to change directions and start the bacterial treatment.

BOOK: Lord of the Black Isle
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