Healing the Tormented Highlander: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Read online

  She was adding a pinch of the dried leaves and shaking the jar up and down.

  “What dae ye think ye are doin’ there, lass?” the voice of Lady Catriona said and Ceana jumped.

  “Oh … I … I am just preparin’ an ointment, for a girl in the village, Nairne is her name,” Ceana said, startled by the sudden appearance of the Laird’s mother.

  “I thought we had an agreement, Miss Morvell? ‘Tis I who mixes the ointments and cures, ye administer them under my direction,” Lady Catriona said, taking up the bottle which Ceana had just filled and raising it to her nose.

  “Aye, Lady Catriona, but I had seen the young lass today and I ken what she needed. I will take the ointment to her myself tomorrow and administer it,” Ceana replied.

  “I saw the lass, there is nothin’ else that can be done for her. She will either recover naturally or die,” Lady Catriona said, her words sounding harsh and unforgiving.

  “Well … if ye please, Lady Catriona I was only …” Ceana said back, but Lady Catriona brought the jar down hard onto the workbench so that it almost cracked in two.

  “Ye should leave such things to me, Miss Morvell. I ken these folks and I ken what they need and what they daenae,” she said.

  “I can at least try,” Ceana said, finding an inner confidence she had so far resisted to reveal.

  Lady Catriona looked at her angrily, but made no reply. She gave Ceana a withering look and stormed out of the infirmary.

  Well, I cannae be friends with everyone.

  Ceana finished making the ointment before stowing it safely in her tunic pocket.

  She would see to Nairne the next day, whether Lady Catriona liked it or not. Ceana could not help the fact that she possessed knowledge that the Laird’s mother did not, or that she had an empathy which Lady Catriona did not display. It was a strange trait for a healer, though Ceana had to admit she only had her grandmother for reference.

  When Ceana was a child, her grandmother had spoken of other healers. Wise women who lived much the same lives as they had done, out in the forest. But such people were rare and it seemed that Lady Catriona would never fully accept Ceana’s presence, not when she herself wished to be the sole healer at Mhaol Chaluim.

  Perhaps I am better off leavin’ as soon as possible.

  Ceana thought about it as she made her way down for dinner later that evening.

  The castle was quiet and it seemed that many of the clansmen had taken early to their beds. As she came to the doors of the Great Hall, the Laird came to greet her, smiling and ushering her inside.

  “I am glad ye came. Please, come and sit with me,” he said, pointing towards the high table.

  “But where is everyone else? The other clansmen?” she asked, looking around her in bemusement.

  “I … I asked that they dine in the kitchens tonight. I wanted to … to be alone with ye and to thank ye for what ye did today,” the Laird replied, blushing a little as he took his seat opposite her.

  “‘Tis what I dae. I am a healer and a healer is meant to heal,” she replied, as he laid a simple meal of bread and cheese before her.

  “Aye, but ye dae it freely and without complaint. I was worried for the villagers today and ye were kind enough to accompany me. For that I am grateful and I am grateful, too, that ye have remained here at Mhaol Chaluim. I was worried that ye would leave,” he said, pouring out a glass of claret for her and raising his own glass in a toast.

  “Where else would I go?” she said, smiling at him.

  “As I said to ye, lass, I hope that ye will stay. I should like that very much,” he replied.

  Ceana was touched by his gesture. He seemed different when they were alone. As though the cares and troubles of his rank were put aside for a while, as the two of them enjoyed one another’s company.

  “I have nay where else to go but here,” she replied, taking a sip of the wine.

  “But I would hope ye would wish to stay, even if ye did,” he said, laying aside his knife and smiling at her.

  She paused for a moment, thinking back to her grandmother’s cottage. She had never wanted anything more than the life she had there and this foray into the outside world had not been without its trials and tribulations. But if she could not have the safety of her grandmother’s cottage then she would be content with life at Mhaol Chaluim and life in the company of Raghnall MacCramhain.

  “Aye, I would,” she replied, “though Lady Catriona would rather I were nae here, I think.”

  The Laird nodded and sighed.

  “Aye, she came to me this afternoon. Apparently the two of ye had a disagreement about an ointment in the infirmary,” he replied.

  “There was nay disagreement. I merely told Lady Catriona that I was preparin’ an ointment to treat the lass in the village. She is sick and I ken what she needs to recover. Yer mother … yer mother had treated her well enough, but I ken an ointment which will work better,” Ceana replied, not wishing to suggest that Lady Catriona had been neglectful in her duties.

  “I see. Well, ye must dae what ye think best, Miss Morvell. I will nae stand in yer way. If ye are to help my people, then I am happy for ye to dae so. But tell me, for I am curious, how did one so young come by such learnin’ and was it really yer mother who taught ye all this?” the Laird asked.

  Ceana suddenly felt the weight of the key around her neck and she paused for a moment, composing herself to answer.

  “Age is nay barrier to learnin’ I daenae think. I may be young in years but I watched my … my mother from an early age and I was always at her side, so that I took in every scrap of knowledge which she gave me. I dae have learnin’ beyond my years, but if I am able to help others through it, then it gladdens me,” Ceana replied.

  What does he suspect of me?

  The Laird nodded, his face ponderous.

  “I am sorry, I did nae mean to question ye, but yer abilities are quite astoundin’ and ye seem to have grown in confidence in every way since ye arrived here,” he said.

  “‘Tis true, and that is because I feel safe and settled here,” Ceana replied and the Laird nodded.

  “Aye, and for that I am glad. I am sorry, I will nae question ye any further. Would ye care for a little more wine?” he asked, smiling at her.

  The dinner continued on pleasant terms. Ceana was astonished at the topics which the Laird could converse upon. As they sat long into the evening, he talked of the history of his clan and the great battles in which his ancestors had fought. He spoke of the politics of Scotland and of the journeys he had made into the far Highlands.

  “Wild places, filled with violent and unforgivin’ men, Miss Morvell. That is why I had nay wish for ye to travel north as ye intended,” the Laird said, as he poured the last of the bottle of wine into her glass.

  “The more I think of it the more foolish I feel for havin’ wanted to,” she replied, shaking her head.

  “But why the far north? Ye said ye would make for Edinburgh on the way. Why did ye wish to go so far away from yer home? Had ye nay friends there, nay one who would take ye in? And what of the local people? They are surely bereft of their healer now,” the Laird asked.

  “I … just did nae wish to be there any longer. The place reminded me of my parents. Everywhere I looked I saw them and the thought of remainin’ there any longer filled me with dread. It may seem strange to ye, when ye have lived yer whole life in this castle, ye cannae imagine anythin’ else, but I ken that I had to leave, I couldnae have stayed there,” Ceana said, choosing her words carefully for the wine had dulled her senses.

  But despite its effects she still knew she was lying to him. A pang of guilt ran through her, for of all the men she had encountered he was the one to whom she wished most to be truthful. But she could not betray her grandmother simply to appease her feelings and she refused another glass of wine, lest it loosen her tongue by accident.

  “I understand or perhaps I daenae. Ye are right, I couldnae imagine another home than this, or fleein’ from it as ye did from yers. But I am glad ye did, though I am sorry for the circumstances,” he said, sighing and rising from his place.

  “I … I am nae sorry that I found my way here though,” Ceana said, “ye have been very kind to me and I am grateful.”

  “‘Tis nothin’ really, I am pleased to have yer company. ‘Tis a lonely life here at times. I am surrounded by people, but none that I call my friends, nae true friends. The life of a Laird is one of duty. But yer arrival has brought much joy to my heart and I am glad that ye will stay,” he replied, as the two of them walked towards the doors of the Great Hall.

  “I … I will wish ye a goodnight, Laird,” Ceana replied, “tomorrow I shall rise early and ride to the village. ‘Tis an easy road and I will be quite safe.”

  “Aye, I am sure ye will, ye have faced dangers enough since leavin’ home and I am sure that with yer ministrations, young Nairne will soon be well,” he replied.

  They stood for a moment in silence and Ceana could feel her heart beating in her breast. He smiled at her again and blushed, nodding, as though unsure what to do next.

  “Well, goodnight …” she said, and he took hold of her hand.

  “Goodnight,” he said, and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

  His actions surprised her, she had not expected such a bold move, but he seemed sure of himself, sure of his actions. His lips lingered for a moment and she felt a shiver run down her spine, as he nodded to her and returned to the Great Hall. She blushed.

  I had nae expected that.

  Smiling, she climbed into bed.

  That same sensation was still running through her. The delight in his touch and the hope for more. She imagined what it would be like if his kiss had continued past her cheek, perhaps onto her lips. She immediately felt her skin burning with that thought, a flush of embarrassment upon her face.

  Guard yer thoughts, Ceana, he is the Laird.

  As she settled down to sleep, a part of her wondered just what it would be like to share another kiss, content at Mhaol Chaluim, content to have the affections of the Laird, affections she readily wished to return.

  Raghnall smiled to himself as he returned to the Great Hall and the dogs came to meet him by the fireside. He had not planned to kiss Miss Morvell, but the opportunity had seemed too good to miss.

  Would she have been happy had I kissed her lips? She is certainly a delightful lass.

  He allowed his mind to dwell on that enticing thought.

  For a while, he sat beside the fire, picturing Miss Morvell. Her hands had felt soft to the touch, her skin smooth and supple. How good it had felt to hold her in his arms, if only for a moment.

  I must kiss her again.

  He poured out a glass of whisky, as the night closed in around the castle.

  Chapter 12

  Ceana rose early the next morning with the dawn. She wanted to ride quickly to the village and see Nairne. With a fever such as she had, time was of the essence and Ceana hurried downstairs for breakfast, the bottle of ointment safely stored in her tunic pocket.

  The Laird was nowhere to be seen but she recalled his words of yesterday and his instruction that she should take Andrew with her for protection. He and several of the clansmen were at their breakfast and they looked up as she approached, having been deep in conversation.

  “Miss Morvell, ye are up with the lark this mornin’ but the Laird is still in his chambers I believe,” Andrew said, smiling, as the others laughed.

  “And what dae ye mean by that, Andrew Macready?” she asked, annoyed at the thought that she had been the subject of gossip.

  “Ye and the Laird seem to grow closer by the day,” Andrew said, and once more a murmur of laughter went around the table.

  “And what business is that of yers? Besides, it was nae the Laird I wished to see this mornin’ but ye, Andrew Macready. Though I am nae so sure now,” she replied.

  “Me? And what does our guest want with me? I am nae sick, nor injured,” he replied.

  “I am to ride to the village this mornin’ and see to a lass named Nairne. She is sick and I have an ointment for her. The Laird told me that ye would be kind enough to accompany me to her,” Ceana replied.

  “Very well, if ‘tis the Laird’s order then I shall accompany ye lass, but I daenae wish to be away from the castle all day, ye heard me?” Andrew replied.

  But Ceana intended to remain at Nairne’s side for as long as necessary and she did not need Andrew tapping his foot impatiently.

  “Nay …” she said, shaking her head, “I will go alone. I need to spend the day there and ye would only be bored. If the Laird asks, I will tell him that ye accompanied me.”

  “But …” Andrew replied, but Ceana shook her head and before he could make further protests she hurried from the Great Hall.

  She could hear them whispering about her as she left but she had no desire to engage further in their conversation. If they wished to spread idle gossip about her friendship with the Laird then so be it, it mattered not to her.

  Outside, the day was already warm, for it seemed that this summer was particularly long and hot and she took off her cloak, slinging it over her arm. The stable boy brought out Dewney for her and she was soon on her way, riding out alone across the moorlands. For a moment, she wondered what might happen if she took to the open road. It was a strange sensation for had she had such freedom before then she would have gladly set off into the unknown.

  But where would I go? And what good would it dae to leave? I have eveythin’ here and it seems that I am wanted.

  She pointed Dewney in the direction of the village, urging him on.

  She had no desire to leave Mhaol Chaluim and no desire to leave the Laird behind, either. Her feelings for him were growing deeper by the day and she felt an intensity she had not done before. The touch of his lips to her cheek the night before was a memory she would delight in forever. The thought of it sent a shiver down her spine and she wondered when next they might be alone.

  Ye have a job to dae now though.

  The roofs of the cottages and the tower of the kirk came in sight.

  Several of the villagers paused from their work as she arrived and a couple nodded to her, remembering her from the day before. She looked around cautiously, lest Lady Catriona be present, too. But it seemed that she had not been followed, nor was the Laird’s mother anywhere to be seen.

  “The girl is sick,” one of the men said, approaching Ceana and offering to take Dewney to his tether.

  “Is she worse than before?” Ceana asked, worried that she had left it too late to return.

  “Her mother says she passed a bad night, ye should go to her,” the man replied and Ceana nodded.

  She hurried through the village to the home of Nairne and her mother, knocking anxiously at the door. When Nairne’s mother opened it, she had tears running down her cheeks and she ushered Ceana inside, pointing towards the bed.

  Nairne was lying just as Ceana had left her, but her face was pale and her breathing now erratic. Her mother had stoked up the fire but despite the warmth, Nairne was shivering under the blankets. With her knees pulled up tightly to her, she began to cough violently, as Ceana came to kneel at her side.

  “Nairne, ‘tis I, Ceana. Can ye hear me?” Ceana said, gently laying her hand upon the girl’s shoulder.

  Nairne stirred, opening her eyes and smiling weakly at Ceana.

  “Aye …” she said.

  “I have the ointment for ye, come now, let me give ye some,” Ceana said and she turned to Nairne’s mother. “Make a tea out of these leaves, as hot as ye can make it,” and she passed a pouch of dried herbs to Nairne’s mother, who hurried to boil water over the fire.

  Gently, Ceana administered the ointment, gently rubbing it on her bruised side.

  “There is the tea,” Nairne’s mother said, a short while later, handing Ceana the cup of steaming liquid.

  “Here we are, Nairne. Ye must drink this, though it may nae taste very nice, it will dae ye all the good in the world,” Ceana said and Nairne smiled weakly at her once more. Holding Nairne’s head gently in her arms, she pressed the cup to her lips.

  They sat for some hours in relative silence, Ceana watching, as Nairne fell into a broken sleep. The fire crackled in the hearth and Ceana and Nairne’s mother kept vigil at her bedside. At length, she opened her eyes and turned onto her side, her movements slow and deliberate, as though it were painful to do so.

  “I … I feel a little better already. My stomach is easin’ and I feel warmer, the shiverin’ is goin’ now,” she whispered, as Ceana pressed the cup to her lips again.