Chapter Three
When the front door opened, Camden didn’t pay much heed. Bent over Brae, he was spreading an herbal poultice over the man’s bruised abdomen. The ill man moaned despite having fallen into a restless sleep once the soothing tonic he’d been given had taken effect.
As soon as a body pressed against his arm, Camden knew it was Moyra who’d entered. “What happened to him?” Her breath fanned across the side of his neck.
“He was beaten,” Camden replied shifting sideways to put distance between them. “What can I do for ye Moyra?”
Undeterred by his clipped response, Moyra remained close, thankfully no longer pressed against him, although there was very little space between them. “I can help ye with that,” she said, taking the bowl he held. “Tell me where to put—”
“It is best that I do it,” Camden said, taking the bowl back. “He is very bruised and therefore quite tender.”
She chuckled softly and fanned her eyelashes, her lips forming a pout. “Are ye saying I cannae be gentle?”
The woman was attractive, quite fetching if he were to be honest. There was something about Moyra that called to every instinct in a man, and he wasn’t immune to her beauty.
But that was just a physical call of nature.
Not a true connection. While Moyra may want him physically as well, what she really sought was a husband.
Although what his aunt had insinuated was true.
It was past time that he settled with someone, got married, and began a family.
Unfortunately, Camden wasn’t sure he could trust enough to marry.
The capability to love, to give himself to another person, was gone.
He didn’t think he could do it again—ever.
“If ye require an herbal mixture, Beitris should be here shortly.” He prayed it was true, since every time he and Moyra were alone, she became bolder in her flirtations.
Without looking, he felt her gaze on him. When he turned to her, her eyes fell to his mouth, lingering for much longer than necessary. Camden turned his attention back to the patient.
Finally, she spoke. “Aye, I will wait for Beitris. What can I do to help?”
Camden looked over his shoulder. “I require more poultice. I can tell ye what to put into the bowl there.”
Just as he began telling her what to pull from the shelves the front door opened and Beitris entered. Camden let out a relieved breath.
Moyra and Beitris were not on friendly terms so Moyra would not linger if his cousin was there. In truth, Moyra didn’t seem to get along with most women.
His cousin removed her shawl and took in the room barely acknowledging Moyra. Instead she went directly to Brae and studied the injured man, then she took in. “Ye look tired. I will take over, go and rest.”
His cousin quickly moved to the table where Moyra was. Camden looked over and caught Beitris’ pointed look directed at him. “Moyra, let me get ye what ye need so ye can be on yer way.” She eyed the mixture in the bowl. “I will have to redo this.”
Moyra’s eyes narrowed. “I dinnae require anything. I came to help since ye were nae here. He was all on his own.”
“I am here now,” Beitris replied, her tone flat. “Thank ye for it.”
Obviously annoyed that her visit had not gone the way she’d hoped, Moyra walked to Camden. “I can return this eve and—”
“’Tis nae necessary. My mother is coming to spend the night,” Beitris interrupted.
At the mention of his aunt, Moyra frowned. “I see. Well then—” she leaned closer “—dinnae hesitate to send word if ye need me.” She inhaled deeply, her lips curving as her eyes met his.
When the door closed, Beitris neared with the bowl Moyra had been mixing in her hand. “Look at this. What were ye thinking having her make whatever it is supposed to be?”
Camden’s mouth fell open at seeing the mashed lumpy mixture of unidentifiable items. “She must have pulled the wrong jars.”
“The woman is incapable of anything other than flouncing and flirting.” Beitris shook her head. “Go and rest. I will wager ye didn’t get any sleep last night.”
“He had a fever.” Camden was unable to keep from yawning. “Wake me before ye leave.”
*
Two days later, Brae was finally able to sit, albeit while still in a great deal of pain. The man’s bruising had turned into shades of purple mixed with a sickly greenish yellow. The story of what had occurred came to light, and also how young he was, just turned twenty.
Apparently he’d gone hunting, unaware that his young niece had followed.
It was only when she’d cried out, having fallen into the loch, that he’d realized it.
He’d been unable to save her from drowning.
By the man’s anguish, it was apparent he’d not meant the lass any harm.
His brother, the wee girl’s father, had been furious, claiming he’d purposely taken her with him.
A cousin with whom Brae had quarreled with over a lass had fed them lies, telling them that he’d seen Brae urging the girl to go with him.
Camden had called the constable who’d listened to Brae’s retelling and had gone to speak with the family. The constable was understanding, but informed Brae, there was little that could be done.
After the constable’s visit, Brae’s swollen eyes met Camden’s. “I feel betrayed that my own brother would nae believe me. How can they think I would ’ave hurt little Nellie? They beat me, demanding I admit I killed her…” his voice cracked with emotion.
Camden wanted to reply, but his throat constricted. He was more than aware of what betrayal felt like. Although he couldn’t imagine how horrible it was to have one’s own family turning against you, he was intimately aware of the pain of a heartbreaking betrayal.
Leaving the younger man to rest, Camden took his herb collecting pouch and walked out of the apothecary, pulling the door closed softly behind him and hurried away. He needed the calm being outdoors brought.
The crispness in the breeze cooled his face, and he inhaled the fresh air. Although he intended to search for herbs, he walked without looking down at the ground, his gaze unfocused as memories assaulted him.
Eara had promised forever. Had professed her deep undying love for him, and he’d hungrily, desperately clung to every word.
Camden had never loved so deeply, had never felt so fulfilled as when he was with Eara.
He was so consumed with her that she had been his whole world.
They’d made love every occasion they could, and when he was away from her, she was all he could think of.
Her beauty. Her body. Especially her body.
It was as if he could not get enough of her and the connection that only intimacy brought.
She’d often teased him how obsessed he’d become.
That despite how much she gave, it didn’t seem to be enough for him.
Perhaps that was the first indication Eara didn’t feel the same.
Her words had been spoken with a soft curve to her lips, as if she was amused.
Could it be that she was? Did she find it amusing how engrossed he’d become? How tight had her hold on him been?
Camden would never understand how it had all unraveled so quickly. Or it could be that he refused to accept it. After almost two years, he still could not think about her without his chest tightening, and the sensation like that of a knife plunging into his stomach never seemed to ease.
The cracking of a branch got Camden’s attention.
Through the trees the figure of a woman moved past almost tentatively.
He walked towards her, curious to ken who it was.
It was late in the day and, therefore, too late for a woman to be walking alone in the woods.
It would be dark soon and being caught out here could make one lost.
His boot crunched loudly on a fallen limb, and the woman gasped audibly.
She whirled, her rounded golden brown eyes searching the surroundings until seeing him.
Instantly she relaxed. “Camden, ye scared the daylights out of me,” Anne exclaimed, a slender hand over her chest. “What are ye doing out here?”
“Searching for herbs,” he replied, his hand grasping the strap of his pouch.
At her gaze moving to his empty flat bag, he added. “I needed fresh air.”
Anne walked closer her delicate features pinched with worry. “Did the man…”
“Brae is doing much better. I felt no worry in leaving him for a bit,” Camden interrupted. “The better question is why ye are out here alone?”
As if not understanding the reason for his question, Anne shrugged. “I am on my way back from seeing about Agnes, the old woman I care for. She was in quite a state, so I had to stay longer than I usually do.”
He’d been too deep in thought to notice that Anne had been walking toward the village, not away from it. “I thought both of yer charges lived in the village.”
Anne shook her head. “Florie does. Agnes lives not too far down this path.” She motioned in the direction she’d come.
“I will walk with ye then. Ye should nae stay away this late,” Camden said coming alongside her. “Does this Agnes have nae other to see about her?”
“She does nae. Neither does Florie. Sad to grow old without children.” Anne’s voice caught, and Camden turned to note she was blinking rapidly.
He wasn’t sure what to do. Despite being a healer and used to people crying in pain, when it came to women in distress, he was completely inept. “Are ye crying?” The stupidity of his question came to light as soon as he uttered it. “What I mean is, did something happen?”
The soft chuckle did little to reassure him. Anne sighed, “I am being silly, pay me no heed.”
They walked in silence for the next while, the lights of the village coming into view through the trees.
Anne broke the silence. “If ye require me to come and see about Brae whilst ye gather herbs, I will be happy to do it. I feel badly that I interrupted yer plans. Although I assure ye, I would have been fine to walk on my own.”
Camden glanced at her. She’d often come to the apothecary to get items to make a poultice or tonic for those she cared for.
The woman would sometimes bring herbs and plants to him that she found during her walks.
Now he understood that she regularly walked through the woods to see about the old woman Agnes and had taken time to pick the items.
“There is no need. I have all I require. If I am to be honest, the main reason for me being out here was because I enjoy walks.”
Anne smiled softly, a dimple forming in her right cheek. It could be dimples formed on both, but as he walked beside her, he couldn’t see her left, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her smile.
“Ye should do it more often then,” Anne said, her eyes lifting to his, but only for a flicker. They were the color of autumn leaves, a pretty shade of amber. “Being outdoors is good for ye, especially when caring for someone as injured as Brae is.”
They continued without speaking, yet the silence between them felt anything but empty.
In Anne’s presence, he was unexpectedly at ease, unlike Moyra, whose boldness both tempted and unsettled him.
Anne offered something altogether different, an amicable calmness that was steady and quietly comforting.
By the time the village appeared, he wished they had farther yet to go.