Page 4 of Highlander’s Captive Bride (Troubles of Highland Lasses #4)

4

“G ood evening, Elodie. Me name is Daisy. I’m very pleased to meet ye,” Daisy greeted kindly, her heart going out to the delicate child. She held out her hand. After a moment’s hesitation, a tiny white hand emerged from beneath the covers like a shy mouse and took it.

Feeling its delicate frailty, Daisy gently shook the girl’s hand and smiled before letting go. Elodie’s face lit up, showing for a split second the lively child within.

“How d’ye do, Daisy? Thank ye for coming to see me,” Elodie said.

“Och, we’re both so glad ye’ve come, Daisy. We’ve heard marvelous things about yer skills. Pray to God ye can help this precious wee one,” Poppy burst out earnestly, yet her apparent guilelessness bothered Daisy.

Despite Poppy’s friendly demeanor, Daisy figured that she was likely a spy for the Laird, there to keep tabs on everything Daisy said and did. The servant had not yet proved herself trustworthy, however kindly she cared for the child.

“Hmm,” Daisy murmured, “we’ll have to see.” She looked back at Elodie, who was still smiling at her. “Yer faither wants me to examine ye, to see if I can find out what’s making ye so sick. Will that be all right with ye?”

“Yes, I want ye to, thank ye,” Elodie replied in her tiny voice.

Daisy turned and looked at the Laird, who was standing behind her, leaning against the wall, his arms and legs crossed. His handsome features wore a worried, brooding look.

“Will ye wait outside?” Daisy asked him, jerking her head to the door.

“Eh? Och, aye,” he said as if snapping out from a trance. He pushed away from the wall. “I have some business to attend to, anyway.”

The next thing she knew, he was close behind her, whispering in her ear.

“Do what I brought ye here to do. I’ll return for ye later,” he said.

Daisy shivered as he came around her and leaned over the bed, planting a kiss on Elodie’s head.

“I’ll be back in a while,” he told her in a reassuring tone before stroking her head.

Elodie grasped his hand and kissed it, gazing up at him lovingly. He straightened up, his face tense as he made for the door, sending a meaningful glance to Daisy over his shoulder as he went out and shut it behind him. They all listened as his footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Now,” Daisy said, unbuttoning the cuffs of her dress and rolling up her sleeves. “Is there somewhere where I can wash?”

“Of course. There’s a pitcher of fresh water and a bowl over there,” Poppy told her, pointing across the room to a console table with a small looking glass hanging above it.

“Thank ye,” Daisy said, going to wash up.

It was a pleasure to scrub away the worst of the road’s filth from her face and hands. Once she had dried her hands on a clean rag, she went to examine her patient.

For the next half an hour, she examined Elodie. She felt her forehead, her pulse. She listened to her heartbeat, timing its regularity in her head. She pressed her ear to her chest, front and back, to listen to her breathing. She peered into her eyes and caused laughter when she got the child to stick out her tongue.

“Now,” she finally said to Elodie, “I want ye to tell me exactly how it all started when ye first got sick.”

“It was when—” Poppy began.

Daisy held up a hand to stop her. “I want to hear it from Elodie,” she said, and the servant fell silent.

The child thought for a while, then she said, “It started about a week ago. I felt all right. I drank all me tea. But afterwards, I got a tummy ache, a really bad one. I was sick, too, lots of times, and I just felt horrible. And I’ve been poorly ever since, have I nae, Poppy?”

“Aye, ye have, me pet,” said the servant, leaning over to pat her charge’s head. “She’s been suffering something terrible, Daisy. Sick as a dog, she’s been, and filling chamber pot after chamber pot. And nae a morsel can she get down. The pain is something awful when she gets these attacks. She’s as thin as a rake, and she burns up with fever on and off too. ’Tis nae fair for a wee bairn. It tears at me heart.”

Daisy stared at her, in no doubt that Poppy was telling the truth and was genuinely moved by Elodie’s plight. She softened towards her, for it was clear that neither of them knew the circumstances in which she had been brought there.

“D’ye ken what ails her yet?” Poppy asked, her pretty face beseeching as she looked at Daisy.

“Judging by the symptoms, it could be any number of things. I need time to investigate further before I can say for sure,” Daisy replied. “But I’ll do me very best to help ye, Elodie, ye can be sure of that.” She squeezed the child’s hand and smiled as reassuringly as she could, despite the circumstances. “Now, tell me what ye had for yer tea on the day ye started getting sick,” she said. “Was it the same as everybody else?”

Elodie nodded her head weakly. “Aye, I think so, but I had me tea up here so I could play with me dolls.”

“And d’ye recall if anybody else was sick after drinking the same tea?”

The child shook her head. “I dinnae think so. Was there, Poppy?”

“Nay, nae to me knowledge,” Poppy replied decisively.

“Was it something new ye ate, something ye’d never had before?”

“Nay, just venison stew and bread and butter. And some milk to drink.”

“And ye’ve never had this sickness before?”

“She hasnae!” Poppy exclaimed. “She’s usually got guts of iron, this one, especially when it comes to eating sweeties, eh?” She grinned at Elodie, clearly eager to take her mind off the examination. Daisy warmed further to her.

“Well, Elodie, thank ye for being such a good patient,” Daisy told the child gently. “I have a lot to think about. We may have to try a few things first to track down what’s making ye so sick, but I’m sure we’ll get there.”

As the three of them continued to talk and she found out more about Elodie, she wished she felt as confident as she sounded.

“I’m so happy Da brought ye here, Daisy. He’s always so busy, it must have been hard for him to take the time to do it for me,” Elodie said at one point, sending a pang of pity through Daisy’s heart.

“Aye, but the Laird has a clan to run, me pet. Ye cannae expect him to be here all day, but just be grateful when he does come, eh?” Poppy said in a soothing voice.

“I can tell ye think the world of yer faither,” Daisy told the child.

“I do. He’s the best Da in the whole of Scotland!” Elodie declared with a delighted giggle. Then, her face fell. “But I just wish he would come and play with me more, sometimes.”

“Why, I remember thinking just the same thing about me own Da when I was about yer age,” Daisy said, also wishing to soothe away the child’s evident sadness.

“I wish I could say the same about mine,” Poppy put in. “The drunken sot. We could never get rid of the troublemaker.”

This made Elodie laugh again, but then, she was seized by a violent fit of coughing, clutching her stomach. Poppy immediately cradled her, patting her back until she finally stopped coughing.

“Me tummy’s so sore,” Elodie gasped weakly, lying back on the pillow. “The coughing makes it hurt. Dinnae make me laugh anymore, Poppy.”

Daisy was very concerned. Remembering that the Laird had ordered the stable lad to bring up her things to Elodie’s chambers, she cast about for her medicine box. She spotted it on a chair near the door and went to fetch it. Taking out a small vial of white liquid, she asked Poppy to pass her a glass of water from the nightstand. After emptying the contents of the vial into the water, she swirled it and then offered it to Elodie.

“Drink this, darling, it may help to settle yer stomach and soothe the pain,” Daisy told her. She cradled her, helping her to sit up and drink the concoction.

“Ugh, it tastes just like chalk,” Elodie said when she had finished it.

“That’s very clever of ye, Elodie, because one of the ingredients is, indeed, chalk, along with some herbs and other things,” Daisy explained kindly. “The chalk has a soothing effect on yer tummy. Now, I want ye to tell me if this medicine makes ye feel any better. It might give me a clue as to what’s wrong.”

“All right,” Elodie agreed as Daisy gently lowered her to the pillow again.

The trio continued to talk quietly, with Daisy getting answers to the questions that were piling up in her mind concerning the girl’s condition. But it was not long before Elodie fell silent, and Daisy noticed her eyelids fluttering shut. Soon, the child drifted off to sleep, apparently calmer than before.

“I dinnae ken what ye gave her, Daisy, but she seems a wee bit better. She usually has trouble sleeping because of the pain in her tummy,” Poppy confided, looking down at the child fondly.

“Is she in pain all the time, or does it come and go?” Daisy asked, her trust in Poppy growing as she continually proved herself a loving carer.

Poppy’s pretty features creased into a frown. “’Tis strange ye should ask. I’ve noticed it comes and goes. It gets bad, especially after eating or drinking, however small and light the morsel. ’Tis as if something disnae agree with her. But it didnae happen before, and it wrecks me nerves when she’s like that, for she screams with the pain, and I can do naething to help her.”

“Aye, that’s hard, I ken. To see a child suffering, well…” Daisy agreed with a nod.

“But I must tell ye, I feel more hopeful, now that ye’ve come. The other healers, even the one here at the castle, cannae seem to do anything for her. But with yer arts and powers, ye may be able to cure her. ’Tis what we all want, for we all love the sweet bairn. And I’m sure ye ken it’s what the Laird wants, most of all. I dread to think what he might do if… anything happens to her.” Poppy’s face was still etched with worry as she spoke.

Wanting to hear more of the Laird, Daisy proceeded carefully. “Aye, ’tis clear he thinks the world of her.”

“Och, he does. He’s a hard man, to be sure, but when it comes to the wee lassie, why, ye wouldnae think it, but he can be as soft as butter.”

“Hmm. And where’s the lassie’s maither?”

“Och, she died when Elodie was but a baby. A woman from one of the villages, they say.” Poppy lowered her voice and whispered, “She was born out of wedlock, ye see.”

Daisy’s brows shot up. “Is that so?”

“Aye, some folks make much of it on the quiet, ye understand. But the Laird disnae care about that—she’s his daughter. And woe betide ye if he hears ye saying anything to that effect. He’s half killed many a man over it. Anyway, when her maither died, he went and got the bairn himself and brought her back here. She’s been at the castle ever since.”

“I see,” Daisy replied, secretly fascinated by what Poppy’s penchant for incessant, indiscreet chatter was revealing to her about her captor.

Clearly, there were depths to the man she had not previously imagined could exist in the same body as the cruel devil who had kidnapped her and murdered her protectors. It half made her believe that she and the brutish Laird could have been friends, had they met in vastly different circumstances.

But Poppy had not quite finished. “The Laird had some dark times in the past, ye see. Lady Bridie, his sister, well, she died, not long before the child came to the castle. Nobody kens what really happened to her. The Laird never talks about it. But, och, Lady Bridie was a sweet lady, so kind and gentle and beautiful. Since she’s been gone, well, ’tis like his heart has turned to stone, and he cares for naught and no one but Elodie.”

“Hmm, so the poor wee lassie has nae maither. But what about any other family?” Daisy asked.

Poppy shook her head, looking mournful. “None. ’Tis just her and the Laird that’s left of the Murdochs, now that Lady Bridie’s gone. And the Laird disnae seem inclined to marry and have more bairns. Not yet, anyway, for he’s always so busy with clan business.

“But he’s young and braw, so we’re always hopeful he’ll find a wife in time.” She ended on a more optimistic note that told Daisy that the “young and braw” Laird Murdoch was both feared and respected by his subjects, as was right and proper.

“I see the child wishes the Laird would spend more time with her. Is he really so busy?” Daisy asked, puzzled, since the man seemed to dote on his daughter so much.

“That’s a hard one to answer. If I tell ye me thoughts, will ye swear not to repeat them to anyone?” the servant asked, suddenly gripped by anxiety.

“I swear it.”

“Well, he loves the bairn, anyone with eyes can see that. But I’ve noticed that as she’s grown older, it’s like he’s put a distance between them. He comes less and less to see her, and sometimes, when he does, I’ve seen him look away from her as if it hurts him to lay his eyes upon her face.” Poppy shook her head. “But I dinnae ken because it should be so. He hardly speaks to me, and I wouldnae ever have the guts to talk to him about it. Of course, she senses something’s amiss, and ye can see plainly that it pains her.”

“I see. That’s curious, indeed,” Daisy replied, the information irking her.

The child needed her father, whom she clearly adored, not knowing what a monster he really was. But perhaps that was part of it—his love only went so far.

Time passed slowly as the evening drew on. Elodie slept seemingly peacefully, to Daisy’s relief. It appeared her pain could be soothed or lessened with the right preparation. But it would not be until the morning, when Daisy could see how the medicine had affected Elodie’s general condition overnight, that clues might be offered up as to the cause of the illness.

As the lamps burned low, Poppy sat in her chair next to the bed, knitting. Daisy continued her anxious vigil over the poorly child, mentally weighing the endless stream of possibilities running through her mind as to the nature of her affliction. And wondering what would happen to her if she could not find a cure.