Page 8 of Bride of the Wicked Laird (Sparks and Tartans: The MacKinnon Clan’s Romance #11)

CHAPTER EIGHT

D avina peeped out the door of the infirmary. It was raining again . The gray clouds hung heavily, and it seemed there would be no break in the steady rain this afternoon. While she had nothing against working in the tiny space she now shared with Broderick – who had proved to be a cheerful companion – she would much prefer to be in the outdoors, in the herb garden.

Compared to what she was used to, the garden was small, but Broderick was correct when he’d said he did not have a green thumb. There were more weeds than useful plants in the herb garden, and a shamefully poor selection of herbs. No wonder Broderick needed to head over the bay to the village so frequently to purchase herbs from the midwife there.

One day, Davina told herself, she would find the courage to sail with him. She’d find seeds and new herbs and wander carefree through the village, exploring her new surroundings.

Aileen had promised she would come and sail her across the bay and take her to the new house she was building with Maxwell. Together they would visit the machair which she had told Davina would be brimming with glorious wildflowers.

If only she didn’t go cold inside and her hands start to tremble when she so much as ventured as far as the beginning of the slipway.

But this was something she was determined to overcome. Besides, she wanted to make the infirmary much more self-sufficient. There were so many things it lacked, even though Broderick was a wonder with the creams and salves he mixed.

“Well,” he said, putting down the mortar and pestle he’d been using to make a fragrant past of honey, rosemary and parsley. He untied his apron and brushed his fair curls back from his forehead. “I am fair famished, Mistress Davina. Will ye join me in the kitchen to take some nourishment?”

Davina chuckled. “Of course.” She finished with the herbs she’d been hanging up for drying and walked outside, sheltering from the rain as best she could. After scrubbing her hands in the cistern, she waited for Broderick to join her for the walk to the kitchen.

Everard had departed two days prior for the Isle of Canna, a day after Aileen and Maxwell had set off on their journey to that same island. Davina had overheard enough to understand this concerned the discussions he had held with the Laird Alexander MacDougall regarding attacks by the privateers on ships bearing MacDougall’s goods.

He’d been busy with preparations for his departure, but he’d found time to speak with her before he left.

“Mistress Davina, I’ll be away fer several days. I’ve instructed Mildred tae keep ye under her wing, and fer Ranald Dunbar tae keep watch over ye and make sure ye’re safe from any harm. If ye need aught, or if ye’re afeared, please speak with Mildred or Ranald.”

She thanked him, but couldn’t shake the heartsore feeling his absence created.

Ever since Everard and Hugo had sailed south, Davina had been dining in the kitchen with Broderick and Mildred. The food was good and hearty but without the special treats she’d enjoyed when she’d dined at the laird’s table.

She hated admitting it to herself, but she missed Everard’s larger than life presence at the castle. She’d become used to seeing his tall form striding across the courtyard, and the surge of delight she experienced when he stopped to wish her good morrow or good day. She did not doubt she’d be pleased to see him return.

Mildred, Broderick, and Davina were seated at the big timber refectory table in the kitchen under the nose of Ailis the cook. She was a large woman with pepper-and-salt hair, who mayhap enjoyed a little too much the tasty morsels she produced. Every day she complained the three of them were taking up too much of her precious space, and every day she cleared room for them to sit and dine.

Today she served them first a hearty soup with vegetables and a smattering of chicken. They mopped up the last of the flavorful broth with oat bread fresh from the oven. Then they partook of sausages, boiled eggs, cheese, bannocks and raspberry jam. Ailis poured them each a tankard of ale to finish off.

Unlike the laird, who made his supper the main meal of the day, the servants ate their biggest meal at noon. All the better for them to take to their beds early so they could be up, ready for another day’s work, before the first grey streaks of dawn crossed the sky.

As they did every day, Davina and Broderick made an effort to stack their empty plates, offering to rinse them clean. But Ailis flapped a floury hand bidding them to begone and leave her to get on with making loaves of barley and oatbread.

They left Mildred at the door as she headed inside to continue her many duties as housekeeper-seneschal, while Broderick and Davina made their way back to the infirmary, ducking their heads against the cold spatters of rain.

For the rest of the afternoon, they continued with their tasks, speaking little.

Finally, there were a few words from Broderick who, she sensed, had been observing her as she worked with the herbs for drying.

“I see ye’ve learned a great deal of the healing arts, Mistress Davina. I wish I had yer skill and knowledge of growing herbs.”

“I have much tae learn from ye also, Master Broderick.” She nodded to him with a smile.

“Did ye learn from a village healer? Ye seem more adept than the village healers I ken?”

“Nay. I was sent tae the convent as a child. As I hated being locked inside in the gloomy walls of the nunnery, I was allowed tae work outside. I chose tae work with herbs. In that way I learned what time of the moon was best for planting and when tae harvest. I learned tae take seeds fer poultices and tae plant again.”

“There is much I would like tae learn from ye, if ye can allow me tae work wi’ ye in the garden.”

“And there is much ye can teach me Master Broderick.”

“Are ye able tae sew a wound and bind broken bones?”

“Och. Aye. I wasnae in the garden always. I served me time at the bedside of the sick and aided the wounded.”

At hearing this, he nodded. “I am pleased tae have ye by me side. Between us we will make far more of the infirmary than would be possible fer one of us on their own.”

When she went to her bed at the end of the day, she was well pleased. Not only with what she had been able to achieve, but with the promise of learning more from Broderick and being able to teach him as well.

It was strange that she was beginning to think of her little cottage and Kiessimul Castle, as her home. She felt more content here after only a matter of days than she’d ever felt in all her years at Iona.

However, if she was to contemplate a life there, she knew she would have to overcome the dread she had of water and, of course, the sea.

Next morning Davina looked out the window of her cottage, wishing for sunshine. The day was similar to the previous day, with grey clouds and the kind of misty rain that hardly seemed wet, yet left her damp and chilled.

Still, she had no intention of complaining, having slept all night in a warm and comfortable bed without a bell ringing loudly to awaken her for prayers. There were moments when she wondered if she was wicked for preferring her earthy, worldly, life to the hushed world of the convent with its contemplative prayer.

Then she remembered Dame Maria’s cruelty and any pang of guilt which might have tried to creep in was swept out the window.

She donned her clothes, a fresh blue kirtle that Mistress Jonnet had only completed the day before, her apron embroidered with flowers and herbs that she’d been working on quietly by candlelight every night, a clean tunic and her warm woolen cloak, and headed for the kitchen to break her fast.

Broderick had already sailed his little boat across the bay to collect more supplies from the list she’d provided, but Mildred was there, sipping a cup of warm mead.

After greeting Mildred and a sour-faced Ailis, she helped herself to a bowl of porridge from the giant pot on the stove and laced it with cream and honey

As she picked up her spoon, Mildred leaned over and whispered conspiratorially. “’Tis very well ye look in yer pretty new gown.”

Davina felt her cheeks burn. She was unused to compliments and Mildred’s words warmed her heart.

“And, just as well, child. Fer our laird is returning tae Kiessimul today, so I’m told by our good Gockman, Ranald Dunbar. Seems he had the news from one of our fishermen recently returned from Canna.”

Davina’s breath hitched and her heart started hammering so hard she thought it might jump right out of her chest. She drew in a breath, exhaled slowly and spooned in a mouthful of porridge.

“Och. That is good news, Mistress Mildred.”

Mildred was looking at her curiously, making Davina wonder if the strange thrill she was experiencing showed on her face. If it was, it might look like a candle had started glowing in each of her eyes.

She lowered her gaze to the porridge and gulped in another spoonful.

Whatever has come over me that me heart should start such wild-pounding at the mention of his name?

All of a sudden, she became aware of her new blue kirtle, hoping the color suited her well, determining that she would braid her hair and wind the braids around her head like fashionable ladies did.

She could hardly wait to finish breaking fast and return to the infirmary, where she could get on with her tasks and distract her willful mind from thoughts – and more thoughts – of Laird Everard.

What a foolish young creature I am, she scolded. As if such a man would ever have eyes tae notice the likes of me.

Once there had been a nobleman’s daughter sent to the convent because she had eyes for an unsuitable lad from her village. She had pined for him, and when out of earshot of Dame Maria and the other, older nuns, she’d described the lad’s great beauty to the breathless novices hanging on her every word. She told them of the thrills she experienced every time she glimpsed him walking in the keep. The lass had not remained cloistered for long. She was sent for by her father, who had arranged a satisfactory marriage for her.

Davina still recalled the sound of the lass’s sobbing, night after night. Although she’d sympathized with her distress, she had had no comprehension of the feelings she described.

Today, she began to understand.

By mid-morning the rain had cleared and although occasional beams of sunlight danced between the grey clouds, Davina did not venture into the garden but remained in the infirmary.

One-by-one the folk seeking her help shuffled into the infirmary. The morning passed quickly.

There was an oarsman whose hands had endured too much and were now ragged and bleeding. After bathing the hands with warm water, she applied one of Broderick’s salves of marshmallow and calendula and bandaged it. “Dinnae set yer hand tae the oars again until I tell ye,” she ordered.

Next was a spotty lad, his face swollen with a boil. She mixed a drawing poultice of clay, charcoal and castor oil. “Ye’ll need tae apply this often until the boil has drawn. Come back then and let us make sure it is cleaned properly.”

A lass heavy with child appeared, fearful and anxious about the approaching birth of her wean. Davina was quite lost when it came to childbearing. Even though there had been rare occasions when pregnant lasses had approached the convent, it was not about the process of giving birth, but treatment for some other problem.

She felt the woman’s belly to establish the wean’s position and reassured the mother-to-be that all was well.

“Are ye a midwife?”

Davina shook her head. “Mayhap ye can stay in the village until yer wean comes. The midwife there will tend tae ye.””

When the lass had gone, Davina was set to wondering about what might be required to between a man and a woman for them to make a wean together. This was not something that was ever spoken of in the nunnery. All she knew was that a virgin had very special meaning. She resolved to question Aileen about this whenever she had a chance.

She had only just finished washing her hands and was drying them on a scrap of linen, when she heard a tiny squark. She looked up, thinking it was the chirruping of a bird. Then she heard it again and traced the sound to a nearby sprouting of long grass. A tiny tabby kitten was calling for help.

After collecting the tiny soul, and stroking its damp little head to try and soothe its cries she admitted defeat. First off, the kitten needed nourishment. Placing it in the pocket of her apron where it seemed content enough for the moment, she threw on her cloak took her courage in both hands and headed for the kitchen, dreading the response she’d receive from Ailis.

Ailis looked up in surprise as she entered. “Ye’re early, lass. Yer dinner isnae ready yet. Come back in a while.”

“It’s nae me meal I’ve come fer, Mistress Ailis.”

Just then the kitten, most likely picking up the delicious smells of food, let out a very loud meow. Davina reached into her pocked and took out the mite, cradling it in her hands.

Ailis’s sour expression crumbled. “Oh, the poor wee kitty,” she exclaimed, reaching at once for a jug of milk that stood on the table. She poured a drop into a saucer and placed it on the floor. When Davina lowered the kitten, it drank eagerly and when it looked up its little face was dripping with milk.

“D’ye like cats?” Ailis asked. “We’ve nay had a cat here fer a long while. Only yesterday I swear I saw a mouse darting out of the pantry. Mayhap yon puss will grow tae dispatch the pests.”

Davina laughed. “That may be a while yet, Ailis. This one’s only just left its mother.”

“I heard there was a boat came in a few days ago with a cat that had kittens. Somehow this wee one must have ventured ashore and been left behind.” She took the kitten and briefly inspected what was under its tail. “’Tis a wee girl.”

Davina picked up the little scrap of fur and held it close. “And a bold one at that.” She heard a faint purr and smiled up at Ailis. “I shall look after her.”

Before she left the kitchen Ailis filled a jar with some milk and handed it to her. “She’ll be all right with milk fer now, but in a few days, she’ll be hungry fer some meat.” The sour-face had been replaced with a beaming smile. “I’ll make sure tae keep some scraps fer her.”

As Davina wandered back to the infirmary, she couldn’t help feeling a kindred spirit with the small bundle she cuddled. “Why, little one, ye’re like me, somehow ye’ve found yer place.”