Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The following morning, Edith’s energy was through the roof.
She had not slept any better than she did most nights. She had dreamed of Aaron and even woken up with a slight headache. But it was finally time for her second lesson, and somehow the thought of learning made everything better.
For the first time in days, she found herself smiling for no reason.
Her steps were hurried as she walked down the corridor, almost skipping to the healer’s chamber.
“Me Lady,” Violet called out from a few paces behind her, panting. “Do ye realize the lesson willnae start until ye get there?”
“It doesnae matter,” Edith replied, unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips. “I simply wish to make the most of the day.”
Violet groaned slightly. She paused for a moment to catch her breath, and then resumed walking, quickening her steps to catch up with Edith.
Edith paused then. She turned to look at the maid, amusement flickering in her eyes as she took her in.
Violet’s lips were pursed, her face was slightly flushed, and her forehead was covered in beads of sweat. And yet there was no mistaking the smile she was trying very hard to hide.
Edith’s brows lifted. “Ye’re awfully eager to accompany me,” she observed, a hint of laughter creeping into her voice.
Violet froze, paling. “Nay,” she blurted.
Edith’s smile widened. “Aye.”
“Nay, me Lady,” Violet said quietly, looking everywhere but at Edith’s face. “I merely wished to carry yer things.”
Edith’s gaze flicked to the notebook in Violet’s hand—a thick, fresh notebook bound with lavender twine and thick covers made to withstand rigorous use. She had been surprised when a maid delivered it to her chamber the previous evening, refusing to say who it was from.
A smile tugged at her lips.
“’Tis only a notebook,” she said, reaching out her hand. “Daenae fash. I can take it meself.”
Violet stepped back, moving the notebook out of her reach. “Nay.” Her voice rose slightly. “’Tis me duty to carry it for ye.”
Edith’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Perhaps…” The realization slowly dawned on her. “Is this because of… Martin?”
Violet’s face turned crimson, and she made a strangled sound.
Edith gasped dramatically. “Och!”
“Me Lady…” Violet whispered.
“Ye want to see Martin.”
“Please stop.” She covered her face with the notebook. “I beg of ye.”
Edith burst out laughing. She held her stomach, leaning against the wall as she laughed properly for the first time in days.
Violet looked around frantically, as though a hidden passage might suddenly appear and swallow her whole. “Stop laughin’.”
“I cannae.”
“Me Lady,” Violet whined. “We should hurry. Yer lesson.”
“’Tis nae goin’ to start without me. Remember?”
Violet opened her mouth to say something, but then stopped, her face turning a deeper shade of red. She nodded in resignation.
I cannae believe this.
Edith straightened, smoothing her gown before continuing down the corridor.
Martin opened the door before they could knock. His eyes landed first on Edith, then on Violet and the notebook in her hand.
A faint frown creased his face. “Have I missed somethin’?”
“Good mornin’, Martin,” Edith greeted, trying her hardest to hide her amusement. “This is Violet, me companion.” She turned to Violet. “Violet—”
“Thank ye!” Violet blurted, shoving the notebook awkwardly into Edith’s hands as she curtsied. “Mornin’. Pardon me.” She spun around, hurrying down the corridor until she disappeared out of sight.
Edith slowly turned back to Martin, her bewildered expression mirroring the look on his face.
“Forgive me,” she managed. “I think she is a bit unwell this morning.”
It was ridiculous, but it was the best she could come up with given the situation.
“Unwell,” Martin repeated.
“Aye,” she said quickly. “A mild case.”
Martin nodded once, his confusion still evident on his face as he stepped aside to let her in. He did not say anything about what had happened. Instead, he walked straight to his work table, getting straight into the lesson of the day.
“I assume ye havenae had time to review our previous lesson,” he said, reaching for the book she was meant to read. “Ye left this behind.” He held the book out to her.
“Aye.” Edith straightened at once, taking the book from him. “But I reviewed me notes. Valerian is for sleep. Yarrow is for bleeding. Elderflower is for fever.” She paused. “And comfrey…”
“What does comfrey do?”
“Repairs,” she said. “Bones, tissue—anything broken.”
“Ye’re correct,” Martin said, a small smile touching his lips. “Sit.”
Today’s lesson was harder.
Martin did not ease her into things the way he had the first time. He named things quickly and expected her to keep up as he moved through different aspects of healing.
But Edith had no issues with it.
Perhaps her passion for healing and prior knowledge made it possible for her to ease into the flow of things. She found herself leaning over the table, her eyes tracking every step as he worked, her lips moving faintly as she repeated names under her breath.
“As a healer in the Highlands, ye’ll often be faced with battle wounds,” Martin said as he steeped calendula, yarrow, and rosemary in hot water. “Preventing a wound from becoming infected is vital, and it begins with a proper wash.”
Edith nodded, noting it down.
Next, he taught her how to make a simple poultice to treat cuts and other injuries. Like Aaron’s wound.
Her thoughts drifted for a brief moment, though her eyes remained on Martin’s work. Her mind was filled with the image of Aaron sitting shirtless on the same stool where she now sat, his muscles bulging despite the blood on his shoulder.
“Me Lady.”
Her cheeks reddened. “Edith.”
She looked up, biting the inside of her cheek as realization dawned on her. She had been distracted by thoughts of Aaron. Her irritation flared.
“Do ye have any questions?”
“Aye,” she answered too quickly, then she paused, thinking of what to ask when she’d barely been paying attention.
Her eyes landed on the poultice.
“Does it sting?” she asked, almost rolling her eyes once she realized that she had asked the question thinking about him.
“Hardly,” Martin replied, and the knot in her chest loosened slightly despite herself.
Thank goodness.
Edith forced a frown. It was hardly her business whether the poultice stung or not. She was only relieved for the sake of her future patients. Or at least, that was what she told herself.
Her attention returned fully to the lesson as Martin handed her something to grind. She worked in focused silence, the rhythm of the grinding grounding her.
There was something particular about it.
The weight of the mortar in her hands, the slow release of scents as the materials broke down, the way her mind had to stay present or risk ruining the mixture entirely.
It left no room for Aaron or any of the other things that had been crowding her thoughts since the kiss.
Her mind was simply quiet.
Martin watched her work without interrupting, which she had come to understand as approval. He only spoke when something needed correcting, and his silence now meant her hands were doing what they were supposed to.
She ground a little more finely, the way he had shown her in the first lesson.
“Ye’re pressing too hard on the left side,” he said, and she adjusted immediately. “The consistency should be even. Uneven grinding means the patient gets too much of one thing and too little of another.”
Edith nodded, slowing her pace.
She thought about that, the idea that something as small as uneven pressure could affect the effectiveness of a remedy. That the difference between helping someone and harming them could be as simple as rushing a few steps.
It sobered her in a way she hadn’t expected.
She had always considered healing to be a form of knowledge. Knowing which herb did what, which root treated which ailment. But Martin was teaching her something else beneath the knowledge. Healing was also patience.
Perhaps I should apply me knowledge elsewhere.
Her mind flashed to Aaron again before she could stop it.
The distraction did not last, though. Martin handed her another batch of herbs, and her eyes lit up as soon as she recognized them.
“These are for fever,” she said.
Martin’s brows rose slightly. “Aye,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. “Ye truly are a fast learner. Perhaps ye are almost ready to become a healer.”
Her heart swelled with pride, and she beamed.
By the end of the afternoon, she had learned enough to be given small tasks.
“Ye’re improving faster than most.”
Edith blinked. “Truly?”
“Aye,” Martin said. “I truly think ye’re ready for more. Yer next lesson would be a real examination.”
Edith glanced down at her hands.
A real examination? With me own hands?
The thought of it felt unreal.
She let out a soft breath, the excitement settling in slowly.
“The examination,” she began. “Would it be on a real patient?”
Martin let out a soft laugh. “Nay,” he said quietly. “But ye’ll examine a real person. A volunteer from the castle.”
Edith’s face broke into a smile.
’Tis real. I truly am becoming a healer.
She raised her chin slightly, immediately thinking of Violet as the ideal volunteer for her examination.
“May I suggest someone?” she asked. “Violet, the lass ye saw earlier.”
Martin hesitated. “I…”
“She could be a second candidate if ye already have someone in mind.”
Martin sighed softly. “Me Lady.” He avoided her gaze, his voice quieter now as he moved toward the shelves, turning his back to her. “Perhaps we could discuss it some other time.”
He moved some of his jars, sorting them carefully so that each one was perfectly aligned with the next.
Edith watched him for a moment, reluctant to try again.
He doesnae fancy her.
“Ye need nae worry,” she added quickly. “I would never force the matter.”
Martin offered a small smile. He tilted his head slightly, holding her gaze. “Thank ye, me Lady.”
Neither of them spoke of it again.
Edith gathered her things, tucking the book under her arm alongside her notes.
The afternoon had darkened slightly outside the narrow window above the shelves, and she realized with faint surprise that she had been here for hours without noticing.
“Thank ye, Martin, for today,” she said, dipping her head slightly out of respect. “I look forward to the next lesson.”
With that, she left the healer’s chamber, a small smile tugging at her lips. She had not only gained knowledge in healing, but she had also gained a friend.
The first thing Edith did when she reached her chamber was sink onto the bed.
Violet was nowhere to be found when she returned. Not that Edith was surprised. The poor girl had practically fled the corridor after seeing Martin.
The memory brought another smile to her face.
She stared at the seam in the canopy that had now become her daily companion, her feet still on the stone floor.
“’Tis happenin’,” she whispered into the empty chamber, satisfaction brimming in her chest. “Soon, I will become a healer, and I will be free.”
She turned her head, her eyes catching a folded note on her bedside table. She hesitated for a brief moment before reaching for the note. She had half expected it to be from Aaron, and she was not entirely wrong.
“The Laird requests yer presence in his study before supper,” she read. “Violet.”
Suddenly, her chest no longer felt light.