Chapter 3
Aftyn had been away from Niall’s chamber too long, but she’d awakened bleary and famished from the nap Neve insisted she take.
She visited the kitchen, hoping some food and company would revive her, but no one remained.
Even the serving lasses had finished the last cleanup of the day and were gone.
The hour must be very late. Most of the clan was asleep in their beds.
She ate a little of the food Cook kept out for the night watch, then forced her feet to carry her back upstairs.
Crossing the hall to Niall’s chamber, she wished she could sleep, too, then chided herself for her selfishness.
He needed her, but she hadn’t shirked his care.
While she took some time for herself, Neve remained with him.
They both knew a man in Niall’s condition should not be left alone.
She opened the door, expecting Neve to greet her, but she wasn’t in the room. Instinct drove Aftyn to whirl and step toward Neve’s chamber, irritation building in her at Neve’s abdication of the responsibility she’d entrusted to her.
Then she turned back. First, she must check on Niall.
He still breathed, and though he’d ceased thrashing from the pain in his leg for the moment, his fever remained dangerously high.
The bowl of water and rags she’d left to be used to cool him remained untouched.
Aftyn dunked a cloth, wrung it out, and placed it on his forehead, grumbling under her breath about unreliable lasses while she dunked another and laid it over his throat.
Another she used to dribble water over his lips.
She hoped the slight part in them allowed some of the water to drip into his mouth. He had to be parched.
Satisfied she’d done what she could for the moment, she gave in to her irritation and went to find Neve. If she was where Aftyn suspected, asleep in her chamber, she’d get a rude awakening.
Neve’s chamber was empty.
Aftyn continued down the next hall to the garderobe, but it was unoccupied. She tried the herbal and the upstairs library, but Neve was not there either.
By the time she made it back around to Niall’s chamber, she heard unfamiliar male voices within.
“I can do much for him, but the care he has received here…” The voice stopped and a low growl of frustration penetrated the oaken door. “’Twas worse than receiving nay care at all. How can that lass call herself a healer?”
Aftyn blanched, her worst insecurities made real in a stranger’s harsh tone.
“Neve said they’ve done the best they can for him,” a second man said. Aftyn felt a moment’s gratitude that someone defended her.
Where was Neve? The man spoke of her as if she was not present.
These must be Niall’s clansmen. Yet she heard no woman’s voice, not Neve’s and not the promised healer.
Only a man railing against her. The Lathan healer was a woman.
Rabbie had been very clear on that. Had she refused to come, to do what Aftyn could not—save him—and then to take Niall home?
“Then she is a danger to all,” the first man continued. “If even I fear I canna save him…”
The voice dropped too low to hear, which was just as well. Aftyn was torn between mortification and fury. A danger, was she? She’d done her best! And they prevented her from the amputation she feared was Niall’s only hope.
How was it her fault that her mother hadn’t had time to fully train her? And what did he mean, if even he feared to save Niall? Why would anyone fear saving Niall’s life?
Confused and fuming, she pushed open the door.
Her gaze went straight to the bed. Niall lay as she’d left him, cloths still in place.
Had anyone changed them for cooler ones?
She looked up then. Two men stared at her, a big blond’s expression changing rapidly from questioning to smiling.
The other one’s gaze frozen on her as if in shock.
Aftyn couldn’t take her gaze from him. Taller than his companion or his injured friend, he had a warrior’s muscles, but somehow burnished long and lean.
She suspected he was even stronger than he appeared.
His deep brown eyes should look kind, but his current narrow-eyed frown made her unsure.
Dark auburn hair and brows caught the firelight and danced with copper glints.
What lass could resist that straight, sharp nose or those firm lips?
Likely, they had kissed many a lass. She wondered how they would feel against hers—if he ever stopped frowning at her.
Jamie turned at the first sound of the door opening.
He was too good a warrior to leave his back exposed, especially in a strange keep.
Not that he expected trouble in Niall’s chamber, but they were in a strange keep, and among the many lessons Donal MacNabb had taught him, he made sure Jamie learned the consequences of carelessness.
Thinking of Donal did not raise the ire it once had in Jamie, but having his foster father on his mind still made him uncomfortable.
As sad as he was to lose a friend, Jamie knew Donal had been right.
He had treated Donal unfairly. He’d learned his lesson and hoped never to lose his temper like that again, though seeing Niall’s condition made it tempting.
What he saw as the door swung open and light fell on the figure standing there shocked him to immobility. Her! The bonnie lass he’d seen float across the great hall and up the stairs.
“What are ye doing in Niall’s chamber?” She demanded before he could say a word.
Her voice resonated with his bone and sinews, making him vibrate with want.
“Are ye his Lathan kin? Where’s the healer? And where’s Neve?”
Jamie fought down his body’s fascination with the lass, recalled his purpose here, and found his voice. “Where’s the healer, indeed? She left a festering wound to spread poison throughout this man’s body.”
The lass reared back as if he’d slapped her, her face reddening under narrowed eyes. Deep blue eyes, the color of a cold loch in sunlight.
“Neve and I cared for him, and we’ve done all we ken to do.”
He yanked his gaze from her and focused on how Niall had suffered since the local healer had gotten her hands on him. “Nought, ye mean.”
“So ye say.” Fear when she looked at him and sorrow when her gaze strayed to Niall warred for dominance on her face.
Did she fear him? Of course she did. He was big and angry and strange to her. Ashamed, he fought to control the outrage that filled him at seeing Niall’s condition. He didn’t make a practice of terrorizing lasses. “Lass, I…”
“Ye didna spend days by his side,” she continued, speaking over his attempt to retract his harsh words. “Seeking to comfort him, to cool him, and to treat his wound. Nothing I did worked. And yer men prevented the one thing that might save him. I fear…”
“Nothing ye did!” Jamie interrupted her, his intent to apologize forgotten, dismay curdling the food in his belly. “Ye are the so-called healer in this clan?” He could not be attracted to the person who had done this to Niall.
Her posture collapsed like a doll suddenly missing some of its stuffing. “I am. Neve helps me, but Niall’s care is my responsibility.”
Jamie rarely found himself speechless, but the conflicting emotions Aftyn communicated in her expression and her bearing made him hold his tongue.
As if the mention of her name conjured her from the dark hallway, Neve entered. “Aftyn! I was looking for ye. I see ye have met the Lathans.”
“No’ precisely,” she answered Neve, then turned back to Jamie.
“They are Jamie and Bhaltair,” Neve told her. “The healer couldna travel. She sent Jamie in her stead.”
Aftyn rounded on Neve. “I see ye’ve been away from the charge I left ye long enough to meet them and listen to their tales. How could ye?”
Neve quailed under the healer’s verbal assault. “I’m sorry, Aftyn…”
“Rabbie brought us up,” Jamie interjected, fighting to keep his temper under control.
She might be a poor excuse for a healer, but she was a lass, and he knew better than to frighten her.
He was here to care for Niall, not to cause problems with this clan or upset the lasses any more than he already had. “Neve was here, and took care of us.”
“Rabbie’s here, too?” Aftyn glanced from Jamie back to Neve. “Where?”
“Resting in his chamber,” Neve supplied, “and so is Fearchar.”
“Well, then,” Aftyn said and rounded on Jamie this time. “It sounds as though there are enough of ye to take over yer friend’s care. Especially since ye find all I and Neve have done to be… how did ye put it? Ah, worse than nay care at all. Oh, aye, and a danger to all. Did I hear ye correctly?”
Jamie could feel his face heating and knew it must be reddening. He hadn’t meant to be overheard. Despite his dismay at Niall’s condition, he regretted his outburst. “Ye did. And we will take charge of his care.”
“Very well, then,” Aftyn said, her mouth in a grim line. “I havena had a good sleep since Niall and yer other clansmen rode into our keep. I’ll leave him to ye.” With that, she spun on her heel and exited the chamber.
Neve shrugged and followed her out, closing the door quietly behind them.
Bhaltair frowned at Jamie. “That was no’ well done.”
“Nay. I ken it.” Jamie shook his head, not yet free of the dismay that colored the whole encounter with the Keith healer. “But perhaps that so-called healer needed to hear the truth.” And he needed to keep her at arm’s length. This was not the place to be lusting after a pretty lass.
“Perhaps more gently,” Bhaltair argued.
Bhaltair was right, as much as Jamie hated to admit it.
He’d been needlessly cruel, but he could not take the time to soothe the lovely healer’s hurt feelings.
A patient needed his full attention. “’Tis done, and I must begin to do what I can for Niall.
” He ran a hand through his hair. “I need ye to guard the door. None may enter until I open it. When I do, I’ll send ye for food and drink. ”