Page 14 of Deceived by the Highlander (Daughters of the Isle #2)

F reyja gently took Afi’s hand and forced a smile on her face as she gazed into her grandfather’s pain-filled eyes.

She pushed Lamont’s scathing words to the back of her mind.

Now wasn’t the time to wallow in her wounded feelings, not when she still needed Afi’s permission to cease the physician’s treatment.

“Lamont needs yer consent to allow me to treat ye.” She kept her voice soothing, even though it was an effort to keep the tears from falling at his frailty. But Afi needed her strength now, and falling apart wouldn’t help him.

Alasdair stood silently by her side, but his presence was strangely comforting, and she cast him a quick glance. His expression was troubled as he gazed at her grandfather, and it caused a small pain to pierce her heart.

Aye, she was glad he was here. But she hated that he’d witnessed how dismissive Lamont—and all his ilk, to be truthful—was of her hard-earned skills.

“I’ve already given him my consent, lass.” Afi’s voice was hoarse but there was no hint of confusion in his words. Thank Eir his mind, at least, was unaffected by this cruel malady. “Miles will back ye, if needed.”

She nodded and steeled herself to once again face Lamont. It wasn’t that the man unnerved her but there was no denying his disparaging attitude rattled her.

The physician stood behind her, and it was obvious he’d heard Afi. “If that is yer wish.” His voice conveyed his affront. “But I cannot accept any responsibility for the outcome.”

Afi exhaled a pained breath. “We know the outcome well enough. Thank ye, Lamont.”

She feared he was right, but if there was one thing she always tried to give her patients, it was hope.

“I’ll have no more of that talk.” She smiled at him and despite his pain, he offered her a small grimace in return. Since removing the leeches was beneath Lamont, she took the jar the physician gave her and put her satchel at the end of the bed so she could find what she needed.

“Let me help.” Alasdair took the jar from her, and she flashed him a grateful glance before finding the pouch of salt in her satchel. Carefully, she sprinkled a little under the head of the first leech, so it released its grip on her grandfather’s flesh.

As she systematically removed them all and dropped them into the jar, she pressed her lips together at the sight of the wounds they left behind.

It wasn’t that she was against their use.

Eir knew, she used them often enough herself when her patients needed bloodletting.

But there was a time and place, and no one would convince her it was a wise course of treatment when the patient was already so weak.

As she tended to the small punctures, Alasdair sealed the jar and offered it to Lamont, who took it with barely disguised disdain.

“Lady Helga,” he said. “Ye are my witness to these events, are ye not?”

“I am.” She inclined her head. “Ye have discharged yer duty, and we are grateful.”

He sniffed before swinging on his heel and leaving the chamber. Freyja released a long breath before giving Afi another encouraging smile.

“I’ll soon have ye feeling more comfortable,” she promised. But if only she could cure what ailed him. But when the heart grew weary, what was there to do?

She picked up her satchel and took it to the nearby table. There were many uses for the poppy, but all she could offer Afi today was the chance to take away his pain. As she prepared the tincture, her grandfather motioned for Alasdair to come closer to him.

“Ye see how brightly my Freyja shines?”

Freyja bit her lip. It wasn’t uncommon for those hovering between this life and the next for their mind to wander and speak in riddles. But how she wished Alasdair didn’t have to witness it. She wanted him to remember her Afi as he used to be.

Or at least, as he had been last week.

“Aye.” Alasdair sounded somber as though her grandfather’s words made sense to him.

“Her light must never be dimmed. Ye must promise me that.”

She cast Afi an anxious glance, but his gaze was fixed on Alasdair who, to his credit, didn’t look alarmed by the strange conversation.

“Ye have my word,” he said.

Freyja measured a precise dose of the tincture into a cup, and the scent of the spices she’d added to disguise its bitter taste filled the air.

She went over to the bed and with trembling hands her grandfather took the cup from her.

It was an effort, but she managed to keep her voice light as she said, “This will help.”

He drank the medicine, and she took the cup from him as his head lolled back onto his pillows. Within moments, the deeply carved furrows of pain on his face faded as the powerful poppy took effect.

“’Tis better.” He opened his eyes, and his gaze caught hers. “Ye could teach those physicians in that fancy college down in London a thing or two, and that’s a fact.”

“Why would I want to live surrounded by arrogant sassenachs? I’m happy here, helping the people of the isles.”

It wasn’t a lie. She had no desire to move to England, of all places. But there was no denying that the college founded by physicians for the furtherance of medical knowledge fascinated her.

“I know ye are, lass.” A shadow passed over his face as though his thoughts pained him. “I need to speak with Lady Helga.”

“Then I shall leave ye for now. Try not to tire yerself out.”

He smiled, but it was a faint shadow of his normal smile, and a dull ache gripped her heart. “Ask Miles to join us.”

“I will.”

She went back to the table to collect her satchel, and Alasdair grasped the strap.

“Let me help.” His voice was quiet, and as she gazed into his dark brown eyes her instant rebuttal faded.

She never let anyone else carry her medical satchel. Its contents were too precious, too potentially dangerous to entrust with just anyone.

But Alasdair wasn’t just anyone. He was . . .

Well, whatever he was, she could trust him to carry her satchel for her.

“Thank ye.”

She tried not to stare as he slung the strap over his broad shoulder, and it was only when she heard her sister call for her dog that she managed to sever her besotted gaze before he noticed.

“Come, Dubh.” She followed Roisin into the antechamber, and Alasdair shut the door behind them.

Miles strode over. “How is he?”

“More comfortable than he was.”

Miles gave a curt nod of understanding.

“He wants to see ye,” she added, and without a word, Miles entered the bedchamber.

“Do ye think there is any hope, Frey?” Roisin whispered.

Much as she wished there was, and no matter how she always ensured her patients had a thread of hope to cling onto, there was no point pretending to her sister.

Her throat ached, but she pushed out the words. “I fear not.”

“But he improved so much after ye administered yer elixir.” Alasdair sounded shocked by her prognosis and before she could think better of it, she took his hand. His fingers tightened around hers, and even though she knew it was foolish nonsense, his gesture seemed to infuse warmth into her.

“I relieved his pain, Alasdair. But I cannot mend what ails him.” And then the frustration that always seethed below the surface when her knowledge failed her bubbled to the surface. “’Tis hard to treat when ye cannot see what lies beneath the flesh.”

“Ye helped him as best ye could,” he said. “No one can see beneath the flesh, Freyja. Don’t disregard yer skills in such a manner.”

A spark of pleasure ignited deep inside at his compliment. It wasn’t often a man voiced admiration for her work.

“There’s always more to learn. My knowledge comes from my foremothers and of course working with my patients. But I’ve heard there is an astonishing book that truly can let us see beneath the flesh. Can ye imagine that, Alasdair? It would be like exploring a new world.”

“I confess, I can’t imagine anything of the kind.”

She sighed as they reached the door to the antechamber and stepped into the corridor.

“Although I’d never wish to leave the Isles, I cannot help but wonder about that grand royal college in London.

As I’ve said to my sisters many times, I’d love to install a spy there who could pass all the new learning onto me. ”

“I’ve the impression yer grandfather believes there’s nothing they could teach ye, and if Lamont is the type of physician they produce, I’m of the same mind.”

“Lamont is stuck in the past and is suspicious of all new ideas—even if those ideas aren’t new at all.

” One only had to see his reaction to her understanding of the poppy’s applications.

Just because he had never been taught of its wonders, he refused to see its benefits even when he witnessed them with his own eyes.

If she was a man, he wouldn’t be so dismissive of her knowledge.

Deflated by that unassailable truth, even though it wasn’t a new revelation by any means, she descended the stairs in silence. As they entered the hall, she forced a light note into her voice as she turned to Roisin.

“Let’s blow away these cobwebs and walk along the beach. Miles will find us if he needs to.”

Roisin glanced at Alasdair before answering her. “I’m fine. Ye go with Alasdair. I shall find Grear.”

Concern for her sister tightened her chest even if the prospect of spending some time alone with Alasdair was more than tempting. “It was just a suggestion. I can stay here with ye, Roisin.”

“No. Ye need to clear yer head. Don’t worry about me, Frey.” With that, her sister headed in the direction of the kitchens, where doubtless Grear would be found.

When she looked back at Alasdair, who was regarding her with a brooding expression on his face, it occurred to her she hadn’t even asked him if he wanted to walk on the beach with her.

She’d just assumed. As though there was an unspoken understanding between them.

But there wasn’t. Just because she couldn’t forget the kiss they’d shared a few days ago didn’t mean it had affected Alasdair in the same way.

She wasn’t so foolish as to imagine it had been his first kiss, too.

The man had likely kissed a dozen or more women.

Aye, and enjoyed doing a lot more than simply kissing them as well.

She refused to dwell on it. Even if she couldn’t quite help herself.

“Do ye want to accompany me to the beach?” Thankfully, she sounded serene, and not as though she’d just spent countless moments dissecting something that was of no earthly consequence one way or the other.

“I should enjoy that.” As they entered the courtyard, he offered her his arm. “Tell me if I’m being too familiar.”

“Don’t worry. I will.” She linked her arm through his and had to forcibly stop herself from tracing her fingertips over his wrist. If anyone had told her a week ago how she’d find a man as utterly irresistible as Alasdair, she would’ve laughed in their face.

Well, maybe it was for the best. Until now, she’d never quite been able to understand why women would do baffling things for the man they loved.

And while she certainly didn’t love Alasdair, because that notion was simply absurd, at least now she had an inkling of how easily one’s wit could vanish when a man’s charms dazzled one.

A healer should be able to empathize with her patients, and now she could add unfathomable attraction leading to diminished good sense to her store of knowledge.

“I wish there was something I could do to ease yer worry.”

His kindly words snapped her from her reverie, and remorse streaked through her. It was unforgiveable that she’d been daydreaming about Alasdair when Afi was so ill.

“Ye are helping simply by being here.” She smiled up at him, and even though in a tiny corner of her mind she remained incredulous at how easily Alasdair had addled her brains, it was a trifling concern.

It didn’t matter how it had happened. Only that it had. And she wouldn’t change it for anything, even though she was destined for heartache when he finally left the Small Isles for his home in the Highlands.