Chapter Seven #2
Cailean crossed to the bookcase, knelt, and scanned the bottom shelf, running his finger along the line of documents until he found what he was looking for.
“Here.” He carried the scroll over to the desk and unrolled it, pinning it down with the inkpot and several smaller books.
Rose joined him, peering at the document. It was a map. It showed Barra in a level of detail she hadn’t expected. Settlements were clearly marked, along with topographical data like rivers and mountain ranges.
“My father employed Spanish mapmakers to document the island,” Cailean said.
“He spent time fostering in Madrid as a child and developed a taste for exploration while he was there. I think he would have loved nothing more than to be part of the expeditions that the Spanish and Portuguese have been sending out in recent years but alas, he was recalled to Barra when my grandfather became ill.”
Rose thought about this. “If he’d stayed, he might have ended up being part of the expeditions that discovered the new world. Imagine that!”
Cailean glanced at her. “New world?”
Rose did a quick calculation in her head and realized she wasn’t entirely sure if the Americas had been discovered yet. Damn. What were the rules about revealing future events? She waved a hand. “Never mind. This map looks like exactly what I need.”
“What do ye hope to discover, lass?”
“A pattern, with any luck. I want to map where everyone has fallen ill. From what Beatrice and Maggie tell me, there is no pattern to who the sickness strikes. But is there a pattern to where the sickness strikes? If so, that might help me pin down the source of this curse. Then we can figure out what to do about it.”
When Cailean didn’t respond, she glanced at him and found him watching her with an odd, almost bemused look on his face.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he replied, shaking his head. “It’s just ye said it again. ‘We.’”
“What’s so surprising about that?”
He opened his mouth and closed it again. “I… I’m unused to receiving help unlooked for.”
She got the feeling that this was a big admission for him. “Well you’d better get used to it,” she said lightly. “Because I’m going to be around for a while.”
He stared at her and Rose felt her breath quicken under his scrutiny. “Aye,” he said softly. “I think I could get used to that.”
Then he suddenly cleared his throat and looked away. “I… I have to go train with my men. I’ll have Beatrice and Maggie bring ye those lists of patients ye need.”
He strode to the door, glanced over his shoulder at her for a moment, and then left, shutting the door behind him.
Rose was left alone in the study. She blew out a breath and slumped into a chair.
What a morning. What a strange, unsettling morning.
First, the incident with Drew, then the scene at North Cove, and now…
Cailean and the strange sensations he stirred in her.
She was staring at the map, chin resting on her hands, when there was a knock on the door a short time later.
True to his word, Cailean had sent Beatrice and Maggie.
They reported no change in Drew’s condition, and with their help, Rose began marking locations on the map where the sickness was known to have broken out.
This was only a tiny amount of data, and she relied on the two women’s memory of where their patients had come from, but it was a start. She’d ask Cailean to organize a more detailed survey of the island later.
Mable brought her a late lunch of cold meat pie which she ate hunched over the map. Her eyes scanned the markers she’d placed so far. There didn’t seem to be any pattern to the locations. Yet. But she would find one, she was sure.
Finishing her pie, she leaned back in the chair and stretched her arms over her head.
She was alone. Beatrice and Maggie had gone off on their own errands, and this part of the keep was quiet.
The only sounds came from someone sawing a piece of wood outside and the tramp of feet from the floor above.
She rubbed her eyes which felt grainy from her lack of sleep.
Late afternoon sunlight was pouring through the narrow, arrow-slit window and falling across the map on the desk.
If she turned her head, from here she could see a tiny sliver of sea glinting at the bottom of the hill on which the keep stood and the tiny black dots of fishing boats out plying the waves.
She needed a break. A headache was starting to burn behind her eyes and there was a crick in her neck from staring at the map for so long. With a groan for her aching muscles, she stood and made her way out of the study, closing the door firmly behind her.
Stepping out into the sunshine of the courtyard, she closed her eyes and tilted her face up to the sun, enjoying the feeling of the warmth against her skin.
“Go on then! Fetch it!”
Her eyes popped open at the sudden voice. It was coming from around the corner. She heard excited yapping.
“Good boy!”
Smiling to herself, Rose made her way around the corner and sure enough, she found Catriona and Patch over by the curtain wall, engaged in a game of fetch.
Catriona hadn’t noticed her yet, but Patch had.
As Catriona threw a small leather ball for the little black-and-white dog, he suddenly lost all interest in the game and came zooming over to Rose instead, little tail whirling and tongue lolling out.
Despite his diminutive size, he whacked into Rose’s shins with enough force to knock her back a pace as he jumped up excitedly.
“Patch! Down! Bad boy!” Catriona called, marching over.
“It’s fine,” Rose said, crouching to scratch the little dog behind the ears.
“It is not fine,” Catriona countered, scowling at Patch. “If he canna learn his manners, Papa will make me put him in the kennels. Do ye hear me, ye little scoundrel?”
Patch proceeded to roll onto his back, presenting his belly for a rub. Indulging the little dog, Rose said, “Oh, I think your papa’s bark is worse than his bite. I don’t think Patch will be going in the kennels any time soon.”
“Aye, especially when he sees what I’ve taught him!” Catriona said, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “I’ll show ye. Patch! Come here!”
The little dog jumped up obediently and Rose couldn’t help but smile as Catriona took Patch through his paces, making him sit, lie down, and even give his paw.
Roll-over proved a little too complicated and Patch, suddenly bored with this game, decided it would be more fun to play tug-of-war with the bottom of Rose’s dress.
“Patch!” Catriona cried in mortification. She grabbed him while Rose pulled the material in the other direction.
But when the little dog finally let go, their momentum was enough to send them both staggering backwards where they landed on their backsides on the grass.
Rose couldn’t help it. She felt a giggle bubbling up inside her and suddenly she was lying flat on her back on the grass, shaking helplessly with laughter. Catriona, with Patch sitting on her chest and licking her face, followed suit.
The tension lifted from Rose like fog burning off under the morning sun and she lost herself in the moment, laughing and laughing until her belly hurt.
*
Cailean wiped the back of his hand across his sweaty brow as he pushed open the gate and stepped into the courtyard. His chest was heaving and his sweat-soaked shirt clung to his chest and back. It had been a good training session but now he was badly in need of a wash and a change of clothes.
Hoisting his scabbarded sword over one shoulder, he began walking but froze as he heard the sound of laughter coming from over on the far side of the courtyard. He turned his head and spotted Catriona flat on her back, laughing her head off while Patch stood on her chest, tail wagging madly.
And she wasn’t alone.
Rose was also sprawled on the grass, laughing as hard as his daughter.
He paused and watched them. He didn’t know what the two of them had been up to, but clearly they’d been having a good time. His heart swelled at the sound of their laughter. It was a rare thing these days and it washed through him like the wind blowing away the clouds on a gloomy day.
Rose clambered to her feet and held out a hand to help Catriona up.
His daughter proceeded to instruct Patch on something—trying to get him to roll over by the looks of it.
But the little dog was having none of it and just grabbed the bottom of Rose’s dress and starting yanking it, which set Catriona off into another fit of giggles.
Cailean found an answering smile spreading across his face.
His daughter always seemed to find the joy in life, no matter how difficult things seemed to get.
And since Rose had arrived, she seemed to smile and laugh even more than usual.
Rose, he noticed, seemed to have that effect on people.
Everyone around the castle seemed to walk a bit lighter, a bit straighter, as though a weight had been lifted from around their necks.
He would, he realized, have to include himself in that assessment.
Why? Was it simply because she was a MacFinnan spellweaver and he was falling victim to the same blind optimism he’d always been so suspicious of?
He didn’t think so. It was more than that. It wasn’t Rose’s powers that made him feel this way. It was Rose herself.
Despite himself, his stomach did an odd little flip whenever he laid eyes on her. He hadn’t felt this alive since… since…
Mary.
Thoughts of his wife flashed into his head and it was like being doused in cold water. A wave of guilt crashed over him. How could he be thinking such things about Rose?
Across the courtyard, Catriona suddenly looked up and spotted him. “Papa!” she cried, waving enthusiastically. “Come and see what Patch can do!”
Oh, how he wanted to. He ached to lose himself in the simple enjoyment of Rose and Catriona’s company. But he couldn’t. Guilt pinned his feet to the ground.
Without a word, he spun and went back through the gate, letting it slam behind him. Lifting his sword from his shoulder, he bellowed for his men to attend him, to get ready for another training session.
The wash and change of clothes would have to wait.