Chapter Seventeen #2
“No, I can do that,” Mia said. “I’ll need to visit Ada to make sure she’s recovering, and I can give you a tea to brew to help with the pain, Mrs. MacLennan. She might experience some swelling around the joint, but that’s to be expected. The tea will help.”
“Och no, I cannae afford—”
“There’s no charge,” Mia said.
“But if ye’re a physician…”
“I’ve agreed with”—Mia glanced at Hamish—“with Lord MacLennan that as long as I’m here, I shan’t charge anyone needing medicine or treatment.”
“Really? Why’s that?”
Mia opened her mouth to reply then closed it again and caught a glimmer of guilt in Hamish’s eyes.
“That’s right,” he said. “There’s no need to concern yerself with payment. Just make sure yer lass is well again. And I’ll still send Elspeth to tend to yer lass while ye’re teaching at the school.”
“Do you teach the children?” Mia said.
The woman nodded.
“But if that Billy’s responsible for what happened to my Ada, I’ll not want him in the school,” Allan said. “What he needs is a damned good leathering on that hide of his, and if Murdoch won’t do it, then I will.”
“But what will that teach him?” Mia said. “Bullies never learn through being struck. Better to teach him the consequences of what he’s done.”
“Aye—a sore arse.”
“Lady MacLennan’s right,” Ada’s mother said. “I wonder…” she began, then she shook her head. “No, I cannae ask it.”
“Ask anything,” Mia said. “If it’s in my power, I’ll help.”
The woman curled her arms around her daughter and rocked her to and fro. “I wouldnae have known what to do for my Ada, ma’am. Would ye show me? And…I can show the children at school. Perhaps if Billy learned the consequences of hurting my lass, he’d not do it again.”
“I still think he needs a good leathering, Aileen, love.”
“Well, with Murdoch as his da, the lad already gets plenty of those,” Hamish said.
“Which perhaps explains why the boy bullies those he deems weaker than himself,” Mia said.
“That’s his da’s choice and there’s nothing a lass can do about it,” Allan said.
“Other than teach him a better way,” she replied, her temper rising. Why was it that a man was given free rein to beat his children merely because of his sex?
She turned to the woman and took her hand. “Mrs. MacLennan, I’d be delighted to show the schoolchildren something about medicine. Perhaps we can discuss it tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“When I visit Ada to see how she’s doing,” Mia said. “Which reminds me…” She placed a light hand on Ada’s head. “Did I not say I was going to find something special for a brave girl?”
Ada’s eyes flared with delight. “Ooh, yes!”
“Are you fond of shortbread? I didn’t bake it myself—Mrs. McBride is to be thanked for that. But I think you’ve earned a slice. Or perhaps two. What do you say?”
“Can I, Ma?” The girl turned to her mother, hope gleaming in her eyes.
“Just this once, Ada, lass,” came the reply. “If ye’re sure, Lady MacLennan?”
Mia made her way to the kitchen, took three pieces of shortbread, then returned. “I’ve brought a piece for you, Jamie, for being such a gallant young man.”
The boy blushed and lowered his gaze.
“What do ye say, Jamie, lad?” Ada’s mother said.
“Thank ye, Lady MacLennan.”
“Good lad. The minister’s brought ye up right. Ye’d better run along now in case he’s wondering where ye are. If he asks, tell him ye’ve been helping the laird and he’s to come to me if he disnae believe ye.”
“Aye, Mrs. MacLennan.”
The boy reached toward Mia, offering the flowers. When Mia took them, he wrapped his arms around her waist.
“That’s enough of that, lad,” Allan said. “Ye dinnae go mauling the lady of—”
“It’s all right,” Mia said, embracing the little boy. “Today’s been an ordeal for you, hasn’t it, young man?”
Jamie nodded his head against Mia’s body.
“Poor wee soul,” Ada’s mother said. Then she lowered her voice. “His ma was taken when he came into the world. But he’s a good boy for his da, aren’t ye, Jamie?”
“I’m going to be minister when I grow up to be a man.”
Mia smiled, then suppressed a yawn.
“I think ye should all leave”—Hamish glanced at Mia—“Lady MacLennan in peace now. She’s tired and needs her rest. Mrs. MacLennan, I’ll send Elspeth over to ye after breakfast tomorrow.”
“Come along then, Ada,” Allan said as he lifted the girl into his arms. Then he nodded toward Mia. “It’s a good deed ye did, ma’am. I’ll tell folk hereabouts to come to ye if they’re in need of a doctor.”
“Come along, Jamie, lad—I’ll walk ye home,” Mrs. MacLennan said, and they exited the cottage, leaving Mia alone with her husband.
She rolled up the unused bandages and placed them in the drawer.
Then, as she turned, she felt a solid wall against her back.
No—not a wall, a living, breathing man. A pair of arms circled her waist and drew her to him, and she felt his muscular body against her back—the broad chest, the taut thighs, and, in between…
…his length, hardening against her back.
Then he dipped his head and she felt his warm breath in her hair.
Her skin tightened with want and she suppressed a cry.
He splayed out his hand on her stomach and shifted it higher until his fingers reached the underside of her breasts.
A ripple threaded through her as she felt her skin tighten, and when she looked down, she blushed at the sight of two little peaks poking needily at the fabric of her gown.
A low growl rumbled in his chest, which reverberated through her bones, and she held her breath, willing his hand to move higher. Then it did, and she let out a low cry as his hand cupped a breast, warm and welcoming, his fingers caressing, squeezing.
“Oh!” A cry escaped her lips and she tilted her head back, offering her throat to him. A thick warmth pulsed in her center and she shifted her legs, the heat rising as she felt the slickness between them.
“Oh, Mia…” he whispered.
Mia…
How she’d longed to hear him say her name!
“Hamish,” she breathed, parting her thighs and pressing herself against his hardness.
He let out a low curse, then released her. Cold rippled across her back and she jerked free, swallowing her shame at her wantonness.
Pockmarked whore, they called her—and here she was, pockmarked and whoring herself to the man who didn’t want her.
“Mia, forgive me, I—”
“It’s Euphramia,” she said, unable to disguise the bitterness in her voice. “Or Miss Lucas—seeing as that’s what I’ll be called soon, and you’ll be glad of it.”
“No, I—”
“Just go!” she cried. “I’m tired.”
“Then get some sleep. I’ll return tomorrow.”
“No! I’m tired of this!” She gestured to the air between them.
“Tired of not being wanted, tired of being a burden, and tired of the suspicion of people who know nothing about me, merely because of my sex, my face, and because I’m English.
I take it you’re making progress in raising the funds to return my dowry, because I cannot wait to leave! ”
He jerked back, a flare of anger in his eyes. Then he sighed and nodded.
“Very well, I’ll leave ye in peace. But first, shall I light the fire for ye?”
“I can do that myself,” she said. “After all, I cannot rely on anyone else, can I?”
He opened his mouth to reply, then shook his head. “Forgive me, lass.”
“What for?”
He let out a sigh and wiped his forehead. “For not deserving ye.”
He bowed and exited the cottage, closing the door behind him.
After a moment, Mia approached the window and looked out.
Through the trees she could see the outline of the castle against the sky, a turret peeking out above the tree line.
Then she closed the curtains and entered her bedchamber.
Suppressing the tears, she drew the plaid blanket about her body and lay on the bed—alone—waiting for sleep to come.