Chapter Five
Camden and Brae ate in companionable silence. He’d managed to make a tasty stew of potatoes and meat that he’d purchased earlier that day. They sopped up the liquid with bread and washed it down with cider.
“I am well enough to leave,” Brae said, breaking the silence. “I cannae continue to take advantage of yer hospitality. For which I am verra grateful for,” he added.
The young man had nowhere to go and would no doubt sleep outdoors. He was still very sick and would require much rest to heal. “Ye are nae healed enough to leave. There is a spare room. Ye will stay here, until yer better and can find work and earn coin for yerself.”
Although very swollen, Brae was able to open his eyes enough to see. He was still young, barely a man, yet he showed himself to be well-mannered and eager to please. “I will help ye here as much as I can.”
Camden took in Brae’s bruised face. “It is appreciated.” It was unlikely the injured lad could do much, but he needed to keep his pride. So Camden would find small doable tasks for him. Already he seemed to be sagging in the chair; being up for several hours was taking a toll on his battered body.
“I do have some tasks that ye can start on tomorrow morning. Tonight ye get some rest,” Camden said.
“Camden?” a woman called from the front room. At the sound of Moyra’s voice, Camden wished he’d locked the door. What was she doing there so late?
“Sleep,” he told Brae, although he almost changed his mind and asked that the young man come with him to greet Moyra.
Moyra stood in the room next to the table that was covered in herbs he was to prepare for drying. She held her arm cradled against her body. It was then he noticed the burned remnants of her sleeve and black marks on her arm.
“What happened?” He hurried to her. “Why did yer kin nae see to yer injury instead of ye walking here?”
A flash of annoyance crossed her features. Then she sniffed and blinked as if on the verge of crying. “They sent me here to ye. Mum said it was best for ye to care for my burns as she and Sencha are much too busy, especially with Ceit taken to bed.”
Camden let out a breath. Ceit was very ill; it had taken two days before her fever had finally broken. But he refrained from saying anything, instead, he directed Moyra to come to the basin stand.
“Be still,” he instructed, pouring cool water over the arm while gently removing burned clothing from it.
“The water helps with the pain,” Moyra said, her gaze glued to Camden’s face. “I knew ye would best take care of me.”
Once her arm was bare, all the remnants of the burned sleeve removed, there was barely a trace of any burns on her arm. Camden bent over it to examine it but failed to see more than a faint redness.
“It looks as if the fabric of yer sleeve protected ye from being too badly injured. I will put a salve on it, and ye should be fine.”
Moyra moaned and swayed. “It hurts so much,” she cried. “It is burning something fierce.” She held her arm tightly against her body. “Can’t ye see how horribly I am burned?”
Carefully taking her arm, he pulled it straight and once again examined the faint marks. “Sit down. I will bring the bowl of water and ye can place yer arm in it. The coolness of the water will keep the pain at bay whilst I make the salve.”
Seeming satisfied with his response, she instantly stopped moaning and sat down. Then noting he studied her, she let out a soft moan again.
When he turned away, he pressed his lips together in annoyance. It had been a long day; the last thing he needed was for Moyra to linger after dark.
Moyra kept a watchful eye as Camden mixed a simple salve of rendered pig’s fat and comfrey. Once it was done, he spread it on a clean cloth and pressed it to where he guessed the burn was, wrapping it tightly and tying it in place.
“There, now let’s walk ye home.”
She let out a long sigh. “Should ye nae make me some type of tincture for my pain, so I can sleep better?”
Camden bit down on his back teeth. “I will bring herbs with me to be boiled at yer home. It is best to drink just before going to bed.”
Leaning forward, she gave him a pointed look. “I can sleep here.”
“Brae is in the spare. I dinnae think ye will be comfortable here,” he motioned to the cot.
A flash of anger crossed her features, but she managed to school them. “Very well. I suppose we should go then.”
Although late in the day, there were still plenty of villagers about. Some going into the tavern. Others leaving it to head home, to possibly irate wives. There were a group of people gathered at a stand where roasted meat was being sold. The smell of the flavorful spices filling the air.
Camden glanced toward the bakery. It was closed for the day, the usual aroma of baking bread gone. His aunt and uncle got up very early to prepare fresh loaves for the village, which meant they retired to their home before the sun went down.
“It is a lovely evening, is it not?” Moyra said, slipping her arm through his. “Perfect weather for a walk.”
The lass seemed to have forgotten to be in pain as she smiled at two women who eyed their entwined arms.
“Aye, it is a nice evening.” Camden walked just a bit faster toward Moyra’s cottage. “I hope to get some reading done and go to bed early. I have much to do in the morning.”
Undeterred, Moyra waved to a woman who walked toward them. Her eyes flitting from their entwined arms to each of their faces. “Good evening,” the woman said, her eyes bright. “What brings ye out for a walk this eve?”
“Enjoying each other’s company is all,” Moyra replied quickly before Camden could speak.
“Oh?” The woman’s face became animated, her expression like that of a satisfied cat after a bowl of cream.
“I see.” She glanced around as if to ascertain if anyone else was about that would steal the gossip for themselves before she could spread it.
“I best go and see about my bairns… They are about somewhere.”
“She seems in a hurry,” Moyra mused, looking up to him with rounded innocent eyes. “Her bairns are just there.” She pointed to two children running in circles.
Finally, they arrived at Moyra’s cottage. Camden removed his arm from hers and held out the herbs. “Get rest and ensure ye—”
“Mum!” Moyra called out while simultaneously pushing the front door open and pulling him to it. The obviously weary woman sat up from where she was at the table, her eyes met his for a moment, then she looked to her daughter. “What is it, Moyra?”
“Camden was kind enough to see me home, perhaps a cup of ale for his troubles?”
“That is nae necessary,” Camden replied quickly. “I really must get back. Brae has a fever,” he lied. He put the herbs for the tonic on the table and rushed back out, closing the door firmly behind.
Only once he was a short distance away did he let out a long breath. The woman was relentless, and if he didn’t take more precautions, she’d find a way to trap him into something he couldn’t get free from.