The Healer (12 page)

Straightening, William thrust his fingers through his hair and stared up at the shadowed ceiling. His hands still burned from when he’d clutched her narrow waist. The scent of her skin was imbedded in his mind.
God’s teeth. She was a healer
.

Not a single complaint about her confinement had passed her rose-coloured lips. Every word she’d spoken had concerned Edan and his treatment. She’d even tried to reassure
him
about his brother, her large sapphire eyes staring at him with sympathy and understanding.

Then she’d mentioned Rhona.

Mentally burying the pain and guilt back into the pit of his soul, he turned and glanced in on Edan. Satisfied his brother would be safe for a moment or two, and glad to stretch his legs after spending the day in the chamber entertaining the lad, he slipped down the stairway in search of the woman who often became his eyes and ears. Mary could see to replenishing the healer’s simples.

The Englishwoman unsettled him and intrigued him in ways no other living soul ever had. He didn’t want her pity. He shouldn’t want to know everything about her. He wanted her to heal Edan.

Then, he wanted her gone.

DELICIOUS smells floated up to greet Lynelle as she followed Mary down the stairs. She had no idea where the older woman was taking her, but she was still shaken by her recent encounter with William, and had leapt at the chance to escape her chamber.

‘I’ve something to show you,’ was the only clue Mary had given.

Voices grew louder as they descended and finally stopped at the foot of the stairway at the edge of the great hall. The chamber was abuzz with activity. A group of male servants strained with effort as they lugged long trestle tables from along the walls to the centre of the room. Women’s laughter drowned out the grunts and groans. Was this what Fenwick’s great hall was like before a meal?

Lynelle stretched her neck to see what the women found so amusing. As she searched, a faint tingling crept up her spine. She was being watched.

She discovered the source hovering beside the wall further into the room. The woman with the cloud of red hair, the one who’d delivered her water this morning, was staring at her now.

Lynelle smiled at the familiar face. The woman continued to stare for a few moments, before disappearing through an archway to the chamber’s right. A twinge of disappointment caused Lynelle’s smile to slip.

‘Come, lass,’ Mary said. ‘You’re keeping them from their chores, the nosey lot they are.’

Mary was right. Many of the servants had stopped their preparations and were looking at her. Uncomfortable at the attention from so many, Lynelle searched for Mary and found the older woman had already made her way down another flight of stairs. With a tiny hitch of her breath, Lynelle quickly moved to catch up.

Slowing her step part way down the dimly lit stairwell, she listened to Mary’s footfalls echoing from below and shivered as the cooler air washed over her.

She reached a landing where a single torch burned and discovered another line of steps leading down into the deepest recesses of the fortress. Throwing a longing glance at the welcoming light above, she turned away, drew a cold breath and crept down the final flight of stairs.

A short, narrow passageway stood dark and uninviting, the cold stone walls seeming to close in about her. A flare of light winked from inside the tunnel. ‘This way, Lynelle. We haven’t got all day, lass.’ Mary’s musical voice echoed off the stonework, bringing with it a sense of brightness. With haste, she crossed the gloomy passageway and came to an abrupt halt as she burst out the other end.

A vaulted ceiling gave spacious depth to the area she now stood in. Shadows danced on the walls from the numerous torches, but did little to chase the chill from the air. Two closed doors appeared like mismatched eyes in the wall before her. The one on the left was iron-studded and centred to its half of the wall. A small barred grill, positioned high in the thick wood, allowed persons to see in or out.

The second door had no grilled opening, was smaller and sat far to the right of the stonework. Lynelle followed Mary to the second door.

‘What is this place?’ she said.

‘Come and see.’ The thin panel groaned as Mary pushed it open and entered.

Lynelle stood in the entrance as the older woman set about touching flame to unlit torches. Her jaw dropped wide as, with each flare of light, the slim chamber’s secrets were slowly revealed.

The high arched roof outside the room continued inside. She sniffed the air, savouring the rush of mingled scents of meadowsweet and lavender and the strong presence of cloves. But it was the rows of cluttered shelves and clusters of drying herbs dangling from above that held Lynelle in wonder.

Moving into the room, she ran a trembling finger along one of the dust-covered shelves crowded with earthen jars, clay pots and glass vials. She inhaled deeply, breathing in the aroma of countless herbs – and neglect.

‘The laird said you needed certain herbs to help with Edan’s recovery. I’m certain you’ll find what you’re looking for among this lot.’

‘Yes.’ She heard the awe in her own voice.

‘I’ll leave you to search and will return when the evening meal has been served.’

Caught up in the wonder of the room, it took a few moments for Mary’s words to register. ‘Who created such a wondrous room?’

Mary paused in the doorway and turned back to look at her. ‘This was Jinny’s place. She was Closeburn’s healer for nigh on forty years.’

Forty years!
How much knowledge must the woman have gathered over such a long period of time?

‘When did she die?’

‘Oh, Jinny isn’t dead. She moved to Thornhill village in the north half a year ago.’

‘Why did she leave?’

‘Jinny didn’t leave.’ Mary’s tone turned serious. ‘She was banished.’

Lynelle’s blood ran cold. She knew what it was like to be outcast. She’d suffered it her entire life and knew nothing different. Forty years of caring for Closeburn’s people hadn’t saved the healer from being cast out.

‘Why?’ She had to know.

Mary turned away, seeming to search for the answer among the herb-strewn shelves. ‘Her healing skills failed to save those she tended,’ she said quietly.

Jinny had most likely done all in her power to treat the people struck down by illness and she had forty years of practice. An unwelcome prickle of fear arose inside Lynelle at her own experience, which was near to none.

Dear God! Poor Jinny. Who would be callous enough to banish her for what must have been God’s wish? She had an idea, but needed to know for sure.

‘Was it your laird William who banished Jinny?’

Mary peered at her for a few silent moments. ‘Have you ever lost someone you loved, Lynelle?’

A stabbing pain pierced Lynelle’s chest.

Murderer!

She clutched the corner of the worn workbench and drew slow breaths past the agony of guilt and despair.

‘Ah, I see you have,’ Mary said softly. ‘Then you must understand the pain and anger suffered by those left behind.’

She understood the hurt of being to blame. Lynelle swallowed past the gorge rising in her throat.

‘Collect what you need and I’ll return for you soon.’ Leaving the door open, Mary disappeared.

Lynelle squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for heat to chase away the ice chilling her blood. The past was the past and she could do nothing to change it. She must concentrate on the present and keep the ugliness that had shaped her life buried deep inside her. She’d been brought to this room to find herbs to aid in Edan’s recovery. It was this task that gave her a purpose to cling to.

Forcing her legs to move, she began searching for the feverfew. Half a year had gone by and none of the herbs would be fresh. She wasn’t discouraged. Dried feverfew was just as effective as the newly picked plant.

A portion of her mind was filled with anticipation of studying every corner of the room and its contents. Her remaining thoughts were of sadness for Jinny, and the determination to prove that healers were good and caring people.

William must have been the one to cast Jinny aside. He needed his trust in healers to be restored and Lynelle was the one to do it.

Had no one at Closeburn been sick for the last half year? Were the Kirkpatricks a healthy lot or were they suffering in silence? Once she’d gained William’s trust, she could then gain the trust of his people.

Removing a stopper from another jar, she sniffed the wrinkled leaves within. The scent was less pungent now, but still unmistakably feverfew. She replaced the stopper and carried the earthen jar to the entry. Leaning against the doorframe to wait for Mary, she looked back into the chamber, absorbing the air of the past, someone else’s past, now enhanced by grime and cobwebs. She would ask to return here, to clean and to explore and perhaps make use of such abundance.

A footfall from the passageway drew her attention and she turned, expecting to see Mary. As she peered into the shadows, she caught a glimpse of red hair, then nothing. Had the young woman who’d watched her in the great hall come looking for her? Lynelle sensed the woman wanted something from her, but what? She’d do her best to find out.

Moments later, Mary came and escorted her back to her room, where she found a tray with steaming pheasant and an assortment of greens smothered in garlic. Lynelle’s mouth watered at the sight and smell of such lavish food and she almost forgot to ask about the red-haired woman.

‘Her name is Keita,’ Mary said as Lynelle sat down before her evening meal. ‘Why do you ask?’

Lynelle shrugged. ‘I am curious.’ She took great care in rearranging the food on her trencher, fully aware of Mary’s intense regard.

‘I will see all is ready in Edan’s chamber,’ Mary finally said before leaving.

Once alone, Lynelle savoured the delicious food, all the while planning a way to restore William’s faith in healers. She could simply tell him how good healers were, recounting several of Ada’s experiences to justify her claims. But would William fully understand? She didn’t think so. It would take something stronger than old tales to convince him. William needed to be included, to play a hands-on role in aiding the sick.

If she pretended to be indisposed, she could ask for his assistance. Would he help? There was only one way to find out. Could she play him false? Yes, she believed she could if it meant renewing his trust in healers. What if he discovered her ruse? Lynelle shivered. She’d just have to make certain he didn’t.

After a drink of water to wash down the most glorious meal she’d ever eaten, Lynelle wrapped her left hand in a bandage. To hide her supposed injury from Mary, she draped it with the clean bandages she’d use on Edan. She picked up her sack with her right hand and waited. Her belly churned with a mixture of fear at being caught out and excitement at the thought of sharing her world with William.

Mary came and delivered her to Edan’s chamber. William opened the door and Lynelle’s stomach clenched at the sight of his serious expression. Her bound hand began to throb. She hastened into the room and halted at Edan’s side, as William bid Mary farewell and closed the door.

‘Good evening, Edan.’ She focused on the young man sitting upright against the pillows.

‘Good eve, Lynelle,’ Edan said. ‘You’ve come to change my bandages.’

‘Yes, and to make certain you haven’t lost your appetite.’

‘Not likely.’ His accompanying smile told her he’d enjoyed the meal as much as she had.

‘Mary tells me you found what you needed in the room below.’

The sound of William’s deep voice shivered through her as she placed her sack on the end of the bed and withdrew its contents. ‘Yes.’ She paused after setting the mortar and pestle on the small table and finally looked at William. ‘I would like to return there, if permitted to do so.’

His dark-lashed eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’

She’d expected the question, but her courage dwindled a fraction beneath the intensity of his gaze. She resumed her unpacking and said, ‘I could make great use of the chamber’s contents. There is an abundance of herbs going to waste.’

‘Also a fair amount of dust, if I’m correct.’

Lynelle looked up at William, wondering why he’d made such a comment. ‘Nothing that cannot be fixed with some care and cleaning.’

She turned, busying herself with preparations.

‘You may visit the healing room, as long as someone is free to escort you.’

Her eyes met his and her heart fluttered with excitement. ‘Thank you.’ She couldn’t believe he’d granted her wish without her having to beg.

This time, William looked away first.

She smiled down at Edan, with hope filling her chest. He smiled back.

‘What have you done?’

William’s voice, almost a growl, made her flinch. His drawn eyebrows and dark flashing eyes caused her smile to slip. She followed his line of sight and realized he was staring at her bound left hand. In her budding excitement, she’d forgotten her plan.

‘‘Tis nothing.’

‘Are you injured?’

‘‘Tis nothing. Truly.’

A bubble of guilt blossomed inside her. To play him false after he’d been so unexpectedly kind to her made her feel ill. But she remembered the reason for her deception, and the sharp reminder burst the tiny bubble and renewed her strength of purpose.

‘It will not hinder me while tending to Edan. But...I may need your assistance.’

Lynelle imagined herself melting under his burning gaze.

‘My assistance? How?’

She swallowed and pushed forward with her ruse. ‘If you could perhaps grind the herbs using the pestle...it would be a great help.’

He stared.

She felt herself wilting.

‘Show me.’

She did.

The pestle looked tiny when grasped in his large, powerful hand and the herb gave way beneath his ministrations with ease. She made the brew and sipped, then passed it on to William and then Edan to drink.

When she began unravelling the bandages from Edan’s thigh and chest, her efforts made awkward by her bound hand, William helped her with the task. After she bathed the wound, testing the salve on her own flesh and then William’s, before finally smearing it on the intended injury, the laird aided her in redressing Edan’s leg.