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Lachlan didn’t like the sound of that. It was better if she was making noises. Now, the woman was motionless, and her breaths appeared shallow. He could only hope the groomsman fetched the doctor with haste.

“I shall give your man directions to the doctors, then fetch some water and cloths.”

The woman nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

“Lachlan Sinclair,” he corrected. “At your service.”

She gave a small smile. “Thank you, Mr. Sinclair. I am most indebted to you.”

He dashed downstairs and found the groomsmen helping disengage the horses from the carriage. “Mr. Young, is it?”

The young man nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Your mistress says you are capable of riding to fetch the doctor. ‘Tis an easy journey but lengthy.” He jerked a thumb toward the stables. “You can ride Shadow there. She’s swift of foot and has not been out today. You will need to head back in the direction you have come then head toward Cairnleck. I presume you came from the inn at Drumagar.”

Mr. Young nodded.

“If you ask there, they shall be able to direct you properly.”

“Please tell lady Minerva that I shall be as swift as I can.”

Lady Minerva. So not only did he have a wealthy, attractive woman at the farmhouse, she was a lady too. He had to presume she was not married as he saw no ring, and what sort of man in his right mind would let her gallivant across Scotland alone? He supposed she could be widowed, but she was too young for that, surely? He suspected she was at least ten years his junior.

He headed back into the farmhouse and grabbed a jug of water then rummaged through the cupboards for some cloths. He had only been here for two days and still did not know where much was, but he had to assume the farmer’s wife kept some in the kitchen—a kitchen that was every inch a farmer’s kitchen.

The furniture was worn but solid and practical. It reminded him a little of the farm on which he’d grown up. It was rarely without muddy footprints, and everything was designed to be used, unlike the house in which he now lived, where the furnishings were decorative and every side was adorned with objects that would never be put to use—expensive vases, priceless ornaments, things he could hardly bring himself to care about. But they came with the house, and who was he to change the way things were done?

Lady Minerva knelt beside the bed, her brow furrowed with concern. He set the jug of water on the side and handed her the cloth. “She is likely wearing too many layers.”

She must have caught the meaning and nodded. “I shall do my best to keep her cool.”

“I must finish seeing to the pigs,” Lachlan said, “but I shall check on you both as soon as I am done.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sinclair. Your help means more than you can know.”

Lachlan dipped his head and ducked out of the room, unable to fathom a suitable response. He might have been surprised tofind her on his doorstep, but he had little intention of turning her away. He could not imagine what sort of a man would.

Even without a sick maid in tow, he did not think he would have been able to deny her anything.

Horribly aware of the woman pattering around upstairs, Lachlan escaped outside to finish tending to the animals and returned as the sun began to set over the mountains, burnishing their tips with gold. He drank in the sight before stopping by the stables and checking in with the driver.

“You can sleep in the house if you’d prefer,” he offered.

Mr. Johnson shook his head vigorously. “I’d prefer to sleep in the stablehand’s accommodation if you don’t mind, sir. I’m no’ so used to a bed these days.”

“As you will. I’ll be cooking supper shortly.”

Mr. Johnson patted his rotund stomach and grinned. “I look forward to it. It’s been a long day.”

“For all of you, I imagine.”

“For Lady Minerva, especially. I have to warn you, she’s not so good with strangers. I hope you’ll make allowances for her. She’s a sweet child, even if she is too into her books.”

Lachlan made a non-committal noise. He had noticed her slightly shaking hands but had put that down to her worry for the maid. If his presence scared her at all, he was sorry for that, but he was not sure what other choice he had. He could hardly leave her all alone in the house.

Perhaps once he fed her, she would warm to him. And he could make up for his rather abrupt greeting.

He could well understand not enjoying the company of strangers. It had taken him some getting used to. He’d had little idea wealth meant spending time in the company of people he did not know with frustrating regularity.