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“Nay lass, few would risk themselves. I dinnae care if ye’re determined tae hide yerself wi’ yer gloves. There’s nay sense in it.” She lay back and he saw a glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes. He spoke more gently still. “I dinnae give two figs fer what scars or deformities ye may be hiding. Ye need care.”

“Ask Finn tae come.”

“I’ll nae disturb those two on the one night they can be together. I dinnae think ye’d dae that tae them.”

She sighed loudly and sniffed. “Ye’re right. I’m sorry, it was pure selfishness of me tae think of asking Finn fer help.”

Still keeping hold of her arm, he undid the rough bandage he’d made with his shirt and began to peel the long glove from her arm. She groaned and closed her eyes.

His eyes widened at what he saw. Her entire arm was scarred from her elbow to her wrist with what must have been deep, crisscrossing gashes. At once he understood what she meant when she said she could attend her own wound. Whoever had sliced her arm would have left her to tend herself. And that someone had inflicted a cruel and dire punishment that could have cost her life.

After removing the last of the glove, he gently washed the blood from her arm and, once the bleeding had ceased, gently smoothed Jennie’s healing balm over the wound. Then he bound her wrist with a long strip of clean linen.

When he looked up, he saw that her eyes were still closed and her cheeks were awash with silent tears. He felt her sadness in his bones, wanting only to soothe, to comfort.

There was a knock at the door and he got up and walked over, opening the door no more than a few inches. Tam was there with two hot whisky toddies on a tray. “The missus thought this might help the captain tae feel a little more like herself. And she sent one fer ye as well.”

Maxwell took the tray, thanking Tam for his kindness.

“If ye give me the captain’s kirtle, Jennie will sponge them clean and dry them by the fire overnight.”

“I thank ye, Tam, fer yer kindness. If ye can return in a short while, I’ll give them over.”

“Aye. I’ll come back soon.”

Maxwell placed the drinks on the table. “All right, Aileen. D’ye wish me tae help ye wi’ yer skirt?”

He assisted her to her feet and she raised her arms for him to slip off her kirtle, leaving her in her shirt and helped her step out of her skirt. He took the bloodstained garments to the door and placed them outside. Then he helped cover her with her warm cloak while she snuggled under the bedding.

He chuckled as he passed her the hot drink. “That was never the way I thought I’d be helping ye out of yer clothes.”

She had dried her tears and was able to give him a hint of a smile. “I’d nay thought of it at all, MacNeil.”

He pshawed in disbelief. “May I sit?” He gestured to the bed beside her and she nodded briefly.

He sipped the concoction of whisky, honey and lemon, savoring the warm, sweet-sour and smoky-mellow taste. The whisky was excellent. No doubt Tam had access to the finest drop the smugglers could provide.

As Aileen sipped, he said nothing. He was not going to press her for information. She knew he’d seen her scars and now it was her decision as to whether she would say more, or tell him how she’d acquired the awful gashes that could have produced such terrible scarring.

They sat in silence until they’d finished their drinks. He took their two sturdy mugs to the table and returned to her side.

She sniffed again, meeting his penetrating gaze. Her green cat’s eyes were clouded with more tears. He reached up with one of the linen strips and dabbed away the moisture.

“It was Sutherland. Ye would have guessed it by now.” She ground out the words.

She was right. He’d guessed as much but hearing it from her mouth filled him with a murderous rage. A fierce, red, killing, fury. “Ye dinnae have to tell me.”

She turned away, her expression bleak. “I want tae tell ye. I said that only when I could trust ye would I reveal my secrets. I trust ye now.”

He took a long, hard, breath, soothing his deep anger, allowing his gentle side to take hold. He would bide his time before he gave his rage full sway. But that time would come.

“Tomorrow night, if the weather is with us, we’ll be at Dunrobin Castle. Ye will meet the Laird Andrew Sutherland and I will be with ye.”

“I will meet the devil who did this tae ye and I will kill him.” His voice was cold with resolve.

She scoffed, shaking her head. “He’ll be guarded by his coterie of warriors. Ye’ll have nay chance tae get near him.”

“I’ll kill the cowardly knave. If nae tomorrow, then another day. I care nae fer when it comes, but I swear tae ye, the man who crushed your heart and soul and tore your spirit, will die at me hand. That was me plan anyway, given he wants tae murder me braither.”