Chapter Ten
Rose pinched the bridge of her nose and leaned back on the stool after checking on her latest patient. She had a headache forming behind her left eye and no pills to help take it off. Perhaps she’d ask Maggie or Beatrice what they used for headaches in this time. Willow bark? Feverfew?
If she got the time, that was. Since they’d returned from Hemkirk, it seemed she hadn’t had a moment to herself.
Seven more patients had arrived at the infirmary while she and Cailean had been away.
All with the sickness. All with exactly the same symptoms as the others.
And she’d been able to help exactly none of them.
Like Drew, all she’d been able to do was put them into that comatose state that at least arrested the sickness.
She sighed, looking down at the figure in the bed.
It was an elderly woman from the village, a warm old soul by all accounts who was much loved by her neighbors even though she had no family of her own.
It was two of her neighbors who’d brought her up to the keep when she’d fallen ill.
Now, she lay on the pallet as though asleep, but Rose knew she wasn’t.
If she placed her hand on the woman’s forehead, she knew she would feel the sickness raging in her beneath the stasis she’d placed her in.
With a sigh, she rubbed the side of her face and closed her eyes. So far, she’d come up with no way to help these people. So much for the vaunted all-powerful spellweaver!
“Here,” said a voice.
Rose looked up to see Maggie standing over her holding out a small pottery cup.
She took it. “What’s this?”
“My own concoction. Good for aches and pains and a bit of a pick-me-up. Ye look like ye could do with it.”
Rose smiled wryly then downed the concoction. It was bitter enough to make her wince, but she finished it all the same.
“There’s naught else ye can do here,” Maggie continued. “Why dinna ye go and get some rest? We’ll call ye if aught changes.”
With a grateful nod, Rose got up, squeezed Maggie’s shoulder, and left the infirmary.
Stepping out into the cool evening air, she paused for a minute to take a few deep, invigorating breaths.
The wind had picked up and dark clouds were beginning to cover the sky.
It looked like a storm was on its way. She began to walk off but paused when she spotted a figure coming along the path towards her.
It was Cailean. He’d changed out of his riding clothes and now wore a white shirt, with the plaid of Clan MacNeil draped over his shoulder, across his chest, and falling in waves to his knees. She caught a glimpse of bare, muscled thigh as he stopped in front of her.
Rose swallowed thickly, forcing her eyes upwards. “Maggie and Beatrice are inside if you’re looking for them.”
“I’m not. I was looking for ye.”
“Oh? Why?”
“Catriona’s orders. She was mighty disappointed when ye didnae come to dinner. She made me promise I would ensure ye take a rest.”
Despite herself, Rose found herself smiling. “Did she now? Well, I suppose I’d better do as she says. The last thing I want to do is risk the wrath of a nine-year-old.”
Cailean nodded sagely. “Most wise. Which is why I brought these.”
He held up a small wooden case and a muslin-wrapped bundle that gave off a delicious smell.
“Drafts and pie. After all, didnae I promise ye a… what did ye call it? A date?”
Rose flushed. It was obvious Cailean had no idea what a date was or its significance, but that didn’t stop heat rushing to her cheeks. Oh hell. Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut?
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and they returned to the keep and made their way to the study.
Once inside, Cailean pulled over a stool and perched on it while he set up the drafts board on the desk. Rose took the chair and munched on a bit of pie as she watched him.
Was this really the same gruff, taciturn man who’d pulled her out of the water when she’d first arrived? That man had been wary, suspicious even. Then he had not been the kind of man who would come check on her welfare.
But, she was beginning to realize, Cailean MacNeil was nothing like what she’d originally thought. He was far more complicated than the rough Highland laird he first appeared to be, and beneath the hard exterior was something far softer and far warmer.
Cailean MacNeil, she suspected, was the kind of man who would sacrifice everything for the people he loved.
“Are ye ready to play?”
His words startled her out of her thoughts. He’d set up the game and was watching her expectantly.
“Are you kidding? I was born ready.”
“Is that so? Then ye can go first. But I warn ye, no funny business. I’ve been playing my daughter for years and have an eagle’s eye when it comes to cheating.”
Rose’s eyebrows climbed her forehead. “Me? Cheat? How dare you? I’m hurt. I really am.”
She smiled to soften the words before studying her pieces. Or, that’s what she tried to do at any rate. But despite her best efforts, she found her gaze flickering to the man seated across from her.
Cailean sat hunched on the stool, chin propped on his hand. The candlelight cast golden highlights into his dark hair as it fell around his face in lazy waves.
“Ye canna make yer move unless ye study yer pieces first,” he rumbled.
“I am studying my pieces,” she protested.
“Really? It seems ye are more interested in yer opponent.”
Rose scowled, annoyed that he’d noticed. “Don’t flatter yourself, MacNeil.”
His only answer was a broad grin. She reached out and moved one of her pieces. Cailean sucked his teeth then moved one of his own. Rose moved another of hers. Then Cailean jumped her piece and claimed it.
Rose sat back in the chair, narrowing her eyes at him. “That was underhanded.”
“That was strategy. I said ye ought to be concentrating, didnae I?”
She forced her attention to the game. Did he know how much his presence was distracting her? Was he doing this deliberately? Damn it. She really needed to get a grip on herself.
She moved another of her pieces, but her attention was still more on her playing partner and the way the firelight flickered in his eyes than on the game.
To make matters worse, as he leaned forward the collar of his linen shirt fell open, giving her a glimpse of the sculpted chest beneath. She swallowed. Oh hell.
As the game progressed Rose couldn’t have named any of the moves she’d made since Cailean had sat down.
“Thanks, by the way,” she said suddenly.
“For what?” he replied, a little startled. “Beating ye at drafts?”
“You haven’t beaten me yet, MacNeil.”
He laughed. “Ah! There it is, that famous MacFinnan fire the stories talk about.”
“Yep. You better believe it.” She hunched forward and studied the game’s layout.
Unfortunately, there was no way she could now win.
Under her breath she muttered the words of a spell and several of the pieces changed color so quickly it was almost impossible to detect.
Then she made her move, using the changed pieces to take several of his. It tipped the balance.
“Ha! I win!”
Cailean was not fooled. He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Do ye think I’m blind, woman? Ye cheated.”
“I did not! How dare you?”
“Lass, I have been schooled in cheating by the very best.”
Rose burst out laughing. “Oh, all right! So I cheated a little. Happy now?”
He shrugged. “I dinna mind losing,” he said softly, “if it means I get to hear ye laugh.”
Rose went very still. Her eyes met Cailean’s and she was suddenly unable to look away. Her heart began to beat a staccato rhythm that she was sure Cailean would be able to hear if he leaned a little closer.
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the howl of the wind rattling the shutters as the storm gathered. Rose was suddenly hyper aware of him, of the soft rise and fall of his chest, of the strand of hair falling across one eye that she longed to reach out and brush away.
“Cailean,” she began, not sure what she wanted to say.
Somewhere outside a dog barked. Rose jumped and Cailean was off the stool and over to the tiny window in an instant, suddenly alert and tense.
Then his shoulders relaxed. “Uneasy because of the weather,” he said. “Naught to worry about.”
Rose stood abruptly, nearly upending the drafts board in her haste. One of her red pieces rolled across the desk and clattered to the floor. “I… I should go.”
Cailean turned from the window. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” she said quickly. A little too quickly. “Nothing like that. It’s just that…” What? I’m worried that if I stay in your company much longer, I’ll do something I’ll regret. I’m worried that when I’m near you I seem to lose all common sense.
It was ridiculous. They barely knew each other and were from worlds so different they may as well come from different planets.
So why did his presence light an ache beneath her ribs the like of which she’d never felt before?
Not even Dennis had made her feel like this.
Nobody had ever made her feel like this.
And it was terrifying.
“I… um… I think that’s enough strategy for one night.”
A faint smile curled his lips. “Aye. Cheating is hard work.”
She gave him a flat look. “I’ll ignore that.”
“Let me walk ye up.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know. I want to.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
The keep was quiet as they made their way up the stairs to the guest wing although the sound of hammering rain could now be heard on the roof.
Outside, the dog barked again and this time she heard the annoyed voice of one of the wall’s guards telling it to be quiet.
A few candles burned in sconces, creating pools of candlelight amid the shadow.
She paused at the door to her room, one hand on the handle.
“Rose,” Cailean said softly behind her.
She turned and found him standing closer than she expected, so close that she could feel the warmth of him. So close that all she needed to do was go up on tiptoes and her lips would touch his.
He reached out and his fingers brushed hers where they rested on the door handle. It was a light touch, no more than the brush of a butterfly’s wing, but it was enough to intensify that ache beneath her ribs.
“Good night,” he said, his voice thick.
She swallowed. Nodded. “Good night, Cailean.”
He stepped back, his eyes lingering on her face, then turned and walked away.
Only when he had disappeared from view did Rose turn the door handle and let herself into her room.
She leaned back against the door, heart hammering.
Against the back of her eyelids all she saw was Cailean’s face and the way he’d looked at her just now. Looked at her like he wanted to…
With an effort, she pushed the thoughts aside, crossed to the pitcher, and splashed cold water on her face.
This trip into the past was not working out how she thought it would.
Instead of a quick, easy healing, it was getting more complicated by the moment, and she could feel the knot tightening around her.
The sooner she went home the better. For all their sakes.