The Healer (13 page)

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 door. 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.

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 her 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.

Oh yes, many reasons
, Lynelle thought, but she held her tongue. She hated deceiving these people, mostly because of their warm welcome and innate kindness. She was only here for a short while and so desperately wanted to be treated as a normal person.

‘Kindness is a gift one can easily bestow on another,’ Mary said. ‘Everyone deserves to know such a gift. Even you, Lynelle,’ she finished softly.

Something clattered to the floor nearby, saving Lynelle from responding. She might have given herself away if the girl named Keita hadn’t dropped the broom she’d been carrying. She seemed to be struggling to keep hold of the pail of water and rags she still held.

Mary introduced them, informing Lynelle that Keita had volunteered to assist her in the room below. The young red-haired woman kept her gaze averted. Lynelle had guessed right. Keita wanted something. Why else would the woman be inclined to spend time in her company, cleaning?

After sharing out Keita’s load, they descended the stairs and passed along the dark passage to the healing room. Musty smells and cobwebs greeted them, and once again all the chamber’s secrets were slowly revealed as Mary lit the three torches mounted in iron-brackets high on the walls. With a smile, Mary left Lynelle and Keita to clean.

They worked in silence for a little while, clearing half the workbench and shelves, wiping them clean and replacing each item. Pent-up curiosity floated in the air alongside the dust moats, but Lynelle wasn’t certain how to initiate conversation.

Her mind buzzed with thoughts of William and the probing questions she feared him asking. She’d have to ensure she asked no further favours of him. His handsome face appeared in her mind’s eye. The memory of his hand reaching for her sent a frightening tingle up her spine. She could still feel the imprint of his fingers on her waist, when he’d lunged forward to steady her.

She scrubbed harder with her cloth, trying desperately to erase his image from her mind. But her imagination took flight and she could almost feel his fingers brushing against her cheek. She wanted him to touch her again, but not because she’d lost her footing.

The realization terrified her.

‘You’re a healer.’

Lynelle stilled, staring at her hands clutching a dirty cloth. Her breaths came shallow and fast and her heart pounded in her chest.

‘Are you a healer?’

Releasing the rag, Lynelle turned to face Keita. The young woman stared back, a look of uncertainty on her pretty face. Lynelle welcomed the intrusion and Keita’s pale, soft features soon overshadowed the image of the harsh, tanned face constantly stealing into her mind. She slowed her breaths and licked her dry lips. ‘Yes. I am a healer.’

Keita’s shoulders appeared to relax and her furrowed brow smoothed.

‘Do you live here, in the castle?’ Lynelle asked, keen to further their acquaintance.

‘Nae. I have a cottage in Closeburn village.’

Lynelle threw questions at Keita, knowing it was safer to talk to the pretty young woman than allow her thoughts to wander on their own. Keita answered swiftly and willingly as they continued their labours, and Lynelle discovered a certain joy in speaking with a woman close to her own age.