Chapter 13 #2
Aftyn nearly laughed, but held her mirth in check. The abbey’s hall didn’t seem the place for it. Still, the idea of Neve’s Hamish weeding a garden somehow pleased her. She should add that unkind impulse to her confession.
An hour later, Aftyn found herself wishing she hadn’t agreed to confess to the abbot.
Her sins seemed too petty to devote his time to.
Didn’t all daughters complain about their parents?
Yet the abbot had spoken quietly about family, and that love was not always demonstrated in a way one expected.
Or that one wanted. She supposed he meant that her father ignored her out of some subtle attempt to make her a stronger person.
But she didn't believe it. She confessed to being jealous of the Lathan healer’s expertise and admitted her suspicions that Jamie had some special empathy that let him feel what others did, and that helped him treat their illness or malady much faster than anything she’d ever seen before.
The abbot chided her that such would seem more a burden than a gift.
When she mentioned wrestling with the idea of going with Jamie when he left, the abbot spoke of duty.
None of that made her feel better. She consoled herself that the abbot could not repeat what she told him, so she should not worry.
He’d absolved her of her sins and excused her from penance for her service to the abbey, just as he had done for Neve.
And she’d forgotten to mention picturing Hamish pulling weeds.
As she and Neve rode home, she reflected on her confession and she realized she’d left out something important. Despite how mixed her feelings were about the Lathan healer, it saddened her to imagine living her life without him. But perhaps it was for the best.
Jamie, feeling rested after returning to Keith and sleeping undisturbed for several hours, made his way to the herbal, trying to make more sense of Aftyn’s mother's journal. Aftyn had gone to the abbey, so he had some time alone to puzzle out another page. If he intended to leave with his men, he didn’t have much more time to devote to it.
But he would go only if he could be sure that Aftyn was safe.
He’d written out many of the preparations, but some were obviously scrawled in haste or when the woman was tired or ill, and were all but illegible.
After several hours, he concluded he might never uncover what she intended, and it would be dangerous to guess, when his interpretation would be prepared by others and used on people whose lives might be at stake.
Frustrated, he tossed aside the journal with an oath, rose and stretched. A noise near the door made him turn, prepared for battle as he’d been trained, but Aftyn, back from the abbey, stared at him from the doorway.
The look on her face could have been a dagger to his chest. Hurt and anger filled her eyes. He glanced aside at the journal and back to her. “’Tis no’ what ye think,” he said, though truly, he didn’t know what she was thinking. Only that she appeared upset.
“’Tis all I have left of her, and ye toss it aside as though it means nought.
” She approached the table and picked up the journal, then hugged it to her chest. “Though to ye, I suppose it does mean nought, save an interesting problem to solve. Something to while away the time until Niall is ready to travel and ye can leave here and return home.”
“I’m sorry, lass.” He was. He knew her well enough by now to understand how conflicted she was about her mother—missing her, and yet hurt at being left and angry at being left unprepared to live a full and useful life.
He’d hurt her again. Not with his words this time, like the ones she’d overheard the night he arrived, but with his actions.
“I didna mean to give ye that impression. I’m frustrated that I canna make more sense of it for ye. ”
“Ye are frustrated? Ye? How long do ye think I’ve tried to tease out its secrets? Ye dinna ken what it means to be frustrated.”
Jamie nodded, then gave into his urge and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry.
I ken ye miss her, and that ye wish ye could speak to her.
” He felt her tense, but didn’t release her.
He would hold her until she made it clear she wanted him to let her go.
She wasn’t the only one grieving and angry and needing comfort, though it had taken him until now to recognize it.
He still grieved for the friend he’d been unable to save.
“Aye,” Aftyn whispered. “I’d tell her how angry I am that she left me in this impossible situation,” she grated out, and pounded on his chest with the heel of her hand. It took a moment for her words to make sense.
She couldn’t hurt him. Not physically, not when he was caught up in how good Aftyn felt in his arms. She fit. She made his blood sing, and his body responded, tightening. But she needed his support and comfort, reminding him this was not the time to give in to his body’s reaction.
“Impossible situation? What do ye mean?” He felt her pull back, and reluctantly let her slip out of his embrace, leaving him empty and longing to hold her again.
But her cheeks were pink and she kept her gaze downcast. At the market day, he’d felt she hid a secret.
Now he suspected he was one step closer to finding out what burden she carried alone.
“I… nay, I canna say.”
“Canna? Or willna? What is so terrible that ye canna speak of it?”
Though tears glimmered in her eyes, she pulled herself upright and squared her shoulders. “Willna. Ye will leave in a few days. What happens to me once ye are gone will be none of yer concern. Ye will forget me and Neve and go on with yer life as though ye never met us.”
Jamie shook his head. “Nay, that isna true.” Aftyn Keith would fill his heart and his fantasies for the rest of his life.
He wanted nothing more than to find a way to keep her with him.
“I promised to protect ye. I want ye to come with us. To the Aerie. To be trained.” If she discovered and didn’t accept his and his mother’s talent, it would be dangerous, but he was beginning to think she could understand.
“Or I will take ye to any healer ye prefer. But ye ken ye are no’ safe here. ”
“Perhaps. I ken ye want to keep me safe, but yer life isna here. Ye canna stay forever.” She wrapped her arms around her and turned her gaze to the tabletop. “Since ye are ready to give up on the journal, I will thank ye for what ye have done. It will help. I just dinna ken if it will be enough.”
“Enough for what?”
“Enough for me to remain with the clan as its healer.”
“And if it isn’t?”
“Then I dinna ken what will become of me, but ye need no’ fash yerself. I will think of something.”
Jamie didn’t understand what she was trying to tell him. “What about Neve. Is she also at the same risk?”
“I dinna ken that either. Does it matter? She isna illegit…” Aftyn choked to a stop and her face flamed.
“Illegitimate? Is that what ye are trying to tell me. Ye are illegitimate and being the healer, succeeding yer mother, is the only place for ye in the clan? Who save the laird has the authority to banish ye?” Jamie paused then, as the realization washed over him.
He recalled the laird’s contempt for Aftyn’s efforts.
“He is yer da? The Keith is yer father and Braden is yer brother?”
Aftyn didn’t speak, but the angry color drained from her face.
That was answer enough. “Aye,” she finally said.
“He doesna acknowledge me. My mother remained his leman until her death. Braden’s mother always resented her—and hated me.
I reminded her of her husband’s infidelity.
She divorced him years ago, and took Braden back to her clan to foster until he was fourteen.
The healer there treated his breathing problems and sent her treatment to my mother when he returned to Keith. ”
“What happened to her?”
“She remarried. Braden writes to her occasionally. I think her disdain for me affected Da, and he tolerates my presence only because I learned enough from my mother before she died to save Braden when he couldna breathe. The last time was over a year ago. Da’s gratitude is wearing thin.”
“Gratitude? If he felt gratitude, he would acknowledge ye and give ye yer rightful place in the clan.”
“I dinna hope for that.” The despair on her face made him furious.
But it finally made sense. He felt sorry for what she’d been through, but he had to respect her strength of purpose and the fight she still fought to be accepted.
“All the more reason,” Jamie said, “to go with us, where ye could be trained, and not waste yer time guessing what yer mother meant. Ye could return the kind of healer yer mother was, that ye want to be, or better. One that yer da would respect.” And she would be with him.
He took her hand, marveling at its softness and how it fit within his.
How touching her sent pleasure spiraling through his body to settle in his chest. His heart. Yet he felt her anguish there, too.
She shook her head. “He never will. He never has.”
Jamie’s gut twisted at the pain in her voice.
The Keith laird was no better than Mhairi’s husband.
No wonder Aftyn felt so much compassion for that woman.
“Then make him,” he challenged. Though it was clear she would never change her father’s mind if he refused even to see her efforts for the clan.
Jamie’s determination to take Aftyn away grew.
“Do ye think I havena tried? I saved his heir from suffocating to death. But that was a long time ago, and my da’s memory grows shorter and shorter with time.
What do ye think would have happened to me if Niall had died?
” She waved a hand. “He would have banished me or turned me over to yer laird, fearing yer clan’s retribution. ”
No wonder she seemed afraid of every unfamiliar aspect of being a healer. Her future—even her life—depended on being good at it, but she had never been given the chance. “Ye wouldna be harmed by the Lathan laird.”
“How would I ken that?”
Jamie huffed out a breath. “Ye wouldna, of course.”
“My half-brother, his heir, is my ally, but he is powerless against our father.”
“Does he still need ye to care for him, for his breathing?”
“Nay, thank the saints. The last attack wasna long after my mother died. He nearly died, too, but I still had the medicine she gave him, and was able to make more.”
Jamie didn’t know what to do for Aftyn if she would not leave. Despite his promise to stay as long as it took to make certain she was safe, he could not stay forever. They were pulled in different directions, and he couldn’t see a solution to her problems if she remained here.
“I’m no’ leaving yet. Perhaps something will yet occur that will be the answer ye need.”
She shook her head. “Long after ye are gone, I will still be here, doing what I can. Ye have helped me more than ye ken, and I appreciate it.” She gestured at the journal, then at the neat pile of parchment where he’d written out her mother’s preparations. “That will have to be enough.”