Page 5 of The Cruel Highlander’s Healer (Highlanders’ Feisty Brides #1)

CHAPTER FIVE

E liza stared at the castle that loomed over them, her mouth agape despite herself. She’d heard plenty about the wealth of the MacKinnon clan, but she never imagined the castle would look quite like this.

Massive stone turrets jutted into the night sky, blotting out the shimmering stars behind them. Warm lights filled many of the windows, and dark forms darted to and fro inside as the servants went about their evening tasks.

Since she was just a lass, Eliza had only known the cabin in the woods. Her profession often had her venturing outside the boundary of the forest, but only ever to the small villages that surrounded her. The most opulent thing she had ever seen had been the manor house of a councilman while she tended to his sick wife.

So the castle before her defied all comprehension.

The Laird shifted behind her, and once again, she felt his hardness poking into the back of her. It stilled her spinning thoughts, bringing them back to the present as she straightened her spine. Heat rose quickly into her cheeks as that stiffness pressed into her even more.

Eliza fought to ignore it.

How can ye ignore the size of it?

The thought flickered through her mind, and she immediately snuffed it out. She didn’t have time to let her mind wander in that direction, not if she wanted to tend to the bairns and then demand that he return her to her home.

Marissa is probably beside herself with worry.

The thought flickered into her mind, bringing with it images of the older woman returning to the cottage and finding Eliza gone. Her chest grew tight and she swallowed hard.

Breathe, lass. Ye cannot lose yerself. Ye got work to do.

Thankfully, at that moment, they arrived at the castle gates, distracting her. Guards upon the parapet called out to them, demanding that they identify themselves.

“It’s yer Laird, ye wallops!” Eliot yelled, and at the sound of his voice, there was a flurry of activity.

A loud creaking filled the air as the gate before them began to ascend. When it was high enough, the horse trotted forward into the courtyard surrounding the castle.

Eliza tried not to let her mouth drop open again as she got her first unobstructed view of the massive building. All around them, guards shouted to one another, calling out that their Laird had returned.

The Laird steered the horse to the massive door at the front of the castle, tugging on the reins just as the door was pulled open. Light spilled out of it, casting a warm glow onto the ground before them.

A steward hustled up to them, reaching out to take hold of the horse’s reins. He held the beast steady, patiently waiting for Eliza and the Laird to dismount.

“Are ye goin’ to fight me off again?”

The unexpected words caught Eliza off guard, and she gave a small gasp of surprise. She felt the rumble of his deep voice where her back was pressed to his chest, and his breath stirred the hair beside her ear. Goosebumps flickered over Eliza’s skin, and she had to fight off the urge to lean into him.

Get yerself together, woman.

Eliza admonished herself, trying to push every last one of the unholy thoughts out of her mind.

“Nay,” she answered with a quick shake of her head, happy that the small movement also served to clear it a bit.

Eliza didn’t feel like explaining that even if she wanted to fight him off, she didn’t have the energy. Not after spending the entire ride to MacKinnon Castle trying to keep her body as far away from his as possible.

Even if ye had been intrigued by the stiffness below his kilt.

Shame filled her as the words flickered in her mind. She was not a woman of lose morals. It was only curiosity over something she had never experienced before, she assured herself.

She was spared any further thought or shame as Laird MacKinnon finally slid off the saddle behind her. Relief filled Eliza as the cool night air rushed in to fill the space where he had just been.

Eliza swung her legs over the saddle, finding the Laird standing off to the side, extending a hand in an offer of help. She stared at it for a moment, considered taking it, and then decided against it.

“Ye’d like to help me now?” She snorted, lifting her nose in the air as she slid out of the saddle.

“I tried to help ye before!” the Laird argued under his breath.

She blinked. up at him. “Aye, a lot of help ye’ve been by stealin’ me from me home.”

“It’s about the bairns,” he growled through gritted teeth.

Eliza turned away from him, facing the castle. She heard an exasperated sigh before the scuffling of boots as he turned his attention toward the steward.

“Take the horses to the stable,” the Laird’s deep voice rumbled through the night as he spoke to the steward. “Eliot and I will take the lass inside and get her settled.”

“Aye.” The steward bowed to him, Eliza watching from the corner of her eye as the man grabbed the reins of both horses and disappeared into the night.

“Follow me,” the Laird commanded, walking past her and toward the house.

Eliza glanced over her shoulder, finding Eliot still standing there and waiting expectantly. He motioned for her to go first.

“I’ll be comin’ after ye,” he said, and Eliza nodded.

She turned forward again, finding the Laird silhouetted in the light of the door. He hadn’t turned to look at her as he strode into the castle, and Eliza got the impression that he was a man who was used to people doing his bidding without question. Something inside of her bristled, and immediately, she wanted to dig her heels into the dirt and refuse to move.

The bairns.

Eliza reminded herself of why she was there, reminded herself of the reason the Beast of the MacKinnons had kidnapped her in the first place.

She’d believed him when he’d told her of how sick they were. Because she knew only sick bairns could make someone desperate enough to kidnap another person. And Eliza didn’t think she had it in her to not care for the sick wee ones.

Besides, Eliot was right behind her. And she was certain that if she dawdled for too long, with one word from the man-at-arms the Laird would march back and throw her over his shoulder once again.

A thrill ran through her at the thought. She banished it with a sigh before following along after the Laird. . The sound of her boots clicking across the stone filled the air as she climbed the steps, Eliot’s echoing after hers a moment later.

The moment she stepped through the door, another woman appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She was short and stout, with a round, kind face. She smiled at them as she approached, and Eliza found herself warming to the woman almost immediately.

“Morna,” the Laird introduced as the woman approached. “This is Eliza, she’s a healer who’ll be stayin’ with us to tend to the bairns. Set her up near me rooms.”

Morna nodded before turning her matronly smile in Eliza’s direction.

“Greetings, lass. Happy to have ye, especially if ye’re lookin’ after the wee ones.”

Eliza returned her friendly smile before Morna turned and rushed away. The space around her became colder with each passing second, marked by the retreat of the matronly woman.

Might as well get started on the reason I’m here.

She turned to face the Laird and Eliot. Standing with her spine straight, she met Laird MacKinnon’s eyes.

“I’d like to see the sick bairns,” Eliza said, still holding her chin high as she met their eyes.

The Beast’s dark eyes flickered with something she couldn’t place as he nodded his head. He turned to Eliot.

“I’ll take her. Go with Morna to make sure she has everythin’ she needs.”

Eliot nodded, grunting his agreement before turning and striding down the hall. Now that they were alone, the Laird’s presence in the corridor seemed to grow. He didn’t move at first, but that didn’t stop him from seeming to tower over her.

“Are we goin’ to see the bairns or nae?” she asked, arching her eyebrow at him pointedly.

The Laird just grunted, saying nothing as he turned and strode farther into the castle. Once again, he didn’t turn to see if she followed and a spark of defiance flared within her.

The sooner ye’re able to heal them, the sooner ye can head home.

Eliza used the thought as fuel as she started following Laird MacKinnon.

She filled her mind with reassurances as they walked through the castle. She tried not to get distracted by the opulence surrounding her, but she couldn’t help it.

I’ll never understand why oneLaird needs all this space.

Eliza compared everything she saw with her life in the cottage. She had always thought that finery was wasteful, but this level was something that she simply couldn’t fathom.

The number of people that could be helped with the wealth contained within the halls that surrounded her was astounding. A bitter taste filled her mouth at the thought.

All this waste.

Rich tapestries, paintings so delicate they seemed to jump off the canvas, mounted heads of beasts – all of that and more decorated the walls. Eliza was so disgusted by all the adornment that she didn’t notice when Laird MacKinnon had stopped walking.

Eliza was in the process of staring at a beautiful painting of the countryside as she walked past it when she ran directly into a hulking, massive form. The air left her with a huff, and her steps stuttered to a stop as she glanced up into the face of the Laird.

He smirked down at her, one side of his beard ticked up in a smile.

“If ye wanted to touch me, lass, all ye had to do was ask.” His voice was laced with amusement, and Eliza began to stammer.

“Nae even in yer dreams, ye brute.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “Then why havenae ye stepped away yet? Is this one of me dreams?”

It was only then that Eliza realized she was still firmly pressed against him, her hands raised and pressed against his hulking, impressive chest.

She stared at them for the briefest of moments, lost in the way his rippling muscles felt beneath her palms. Then, she shook her head, banishing the thought from her mind.

She took several rapid steps away from him, not stopping until her back touched the corridor wall behind her. The Laird watched her with amusement for a few more moments but thankfully said nothing more before turning his back to her and facing the doors.

Eliza expected him to open them, but he stood there for several seconds. Peeling herself away from the wall, she took a few tentative steps to bring herself beside him.

Peering at him sidelong, she found his brow furrowed as he stared at the doors. His expression was inscrutable, and no matter how hard she searched his face, Eliza found it impossible to read Laird’s expression.

“I had the great hall filled with cots,” he explained, his voice sounding haunted. “I thought that if I brought them here, all together, maybe it would make it easier to help. One of me maids, Kate, has been takin’ care of them. But she’s done all she could. I told her I’d find her a healer…”

Laird MacKinnon turned to glance at her, his face still painted in that expression Eliza couldn’t quite understand.

“When will I meet her?” Eliza asked, thinking it would be nice to have an extra set of hands if she was going to be tending to sick children.

“In just a few seconds, is me guess. Kennin’ her, she’s on the other side of these doors.”

He didn’t elaborate further as he reached forward, grabbing hold of the massive handle on the door and giving it a tug. It opened with a creak, and Eliza peered around his massive form into the hall beyond.

Immediately, her mouth popped open in surprise. She had envisioned many things when Laird MacKinnon had told her of the sick children as she’d tried to wrap her mind around the reality of it. But now that she was standing there, staring at cot after cot topped with a small, slumbering body, a wave of sadness rushed over her.

There are so many of them.

The thought rushed through her, flaring her need to help and causing her to take an involuntary step forward.

The stench of sickness filled the air, floating through the hall to greet them in the corridor beyond. Just as the Laird predicted, a woman flitted through the aisles of ill children.

Eliza studied her. Marissa had taught her to have impossibly high standards when it came to healing. Over the years, it had served her and her patients well. And she would hold this woman to those same standards.

She watched as the other woman dipped over a sick child, washing their brow with a wet rag. The woman murmured something to the child, and they nodded, seemingly soothed by her words.

Impressed, Eliza turned her attention back to the Laird.

“I’m guessin’ that’s Kate?” she asked, and he grunted the affirmative.

The woman, Kate, must have heard them because she stood up straight, her eyes immediately landing on where Eliza and the Laird lingered near the doorway. Then, when the woman regarded Eliza, she could have sworn that she saw something like relief coloring the other woman’s features.

Kate threw one more worried glance down at the bairn she’d just been helping before tearing her attention away and marching toward Eliza and Laird MacKinnon.

“Kate,” the Laird greeted the maid as she approached, keeping his voice low. “How are they?”

“It’s nae lookin’ good,” Kate’s eyes landed back on Eliza. “Ye’re the healer, then?”

Eliza nodded. “I’m Eliza, and I’d like to examine some of them if I can.”

Kate stepped aside, waiving her arm forward. “Please. And let me ken if I can help ye.”

As she walked in, Eliza heard light footsteps following not too far behind. She walked to the closest bed, eyes flickering down to the small form atop the mattress.

The child was a girl, bright red ringlets plastered to her forehead with a sheen of sweat. Her eyes were closed; the only sign of life was the slight rise and fall of her chest.

She didn’t stir as Eliza bent down closer to her body, eyes raking over the child as she did. Something cloyed at her senses, causing her nose to wrinkle the closer she got.

There was the smell of vomit in the air, yes. The smell of excrement, too. But there was something else accompanying it that didn’t seem to belong.

Sniffing delicately at the air, Eliza got even closer to the girl. Her nose hovered just inches from the child’s face as her mind worked to sort out the scent. She reached forward, rubbing at the side of the child’s throat, looking for any sign of knots or swelling before checking beneath the bairns arms.

There’s nay swelling.

Eliza noted, feeling the smoothness on the sides of the child’s neck.

That’s good, at least.

She ran over the list of symptoms in her mind – no swelling, a pungent smell on the breath. Eliza bent forward and sniffed again, and suddenly everything clicked.

She reached down, flipping over the child’s hands. Finding exactly what she was looking for, Eliza nodded as a suspicion began forming in her mind.

Walking to the next bed, Eliza repeated the same process. Bend to sniff the breath and check the hands. And again, to another child, and then another.

Each one was the same as the last, and after checking her fourth bairn, she finally felt satisfied that she knew exactly what was going on.

Turning back toward the doors, she found Kate standing not too far behind her.

The maid’s brow knit together.

“Ye ken what it is,” she said, and Eliza nodded.

She didn’t want to talk about it amongst the cots, on the off chance that one of the more lucid children might overhear them. Eliza indicated toward the doors where the Laird still stood, watching both women with that inscrutable look of his.

Eliza hustled back through the cots with Kate at her side, until finally they reached the boundary of the Great Hall. Laird MacKinnon stepped backwards, allowing them to pass.

The moment Eliza and Kate stepped into the corridor; the Laird shut the door with a soft thud. He whirled on Eliza, eyes flaring.

“Can ye help them? Can ye stop what’s makin’ them sick? Can ye do it in a fortnight?”

For a split second, the Laird’s expression seemed to shift, something like hope lingering in the depths of his gaze. But, as quickly as the expression was there, it was gone. Laird MacKinnon’s features fell back into its well-controlled scowl so quickly, Eliza had to wonder if she had imagined it entirely.

“Aye,” she said, seeing Kate sag with relief out of the corner of her eye. “I can help them. But it isnae a plague or an epidemic ye have on yer hands. Those bairns have been poisoned.”