Chapter 2
It took several days for Edwina to journey to McDougal Keep.
She’d packed lightly, at least where her own possessions were concerned.
She had never been too terribly concerned with dresses, jewelry, and other such things.
She sometimes let herself be spoiled when her sister-in-law Cora took her shopping in London, but generally, she was content with dresses that were plainer and more utilitarian.
She did, however, make a stop to visit the castle healers.
Drusilla, the chief among them, had sometimes tutored Edwina in the finer points of herbology and the art of ministering to the ill or wounded.
Her father and brothers had frequently commented that such pursuits were not befitting the daughter of a laird, but as usual, Edwina had not bothered to pay much attention to the opinions of others where she was concerned.
Her life was hers to live as she saw fit; that was how she saw it, and none would dissuade her.
If pressed, she would have been unable to say precisely why the subject of healing interested her.
Part of it was her glee at the discomfiture it provoked in her father, certainly; she enjoyed getting reactions from people and always had.
Part of it was also that she had done so much reading, and the books that interested her the most involved heroes whose lives had been miraculously saved by knowledgeable healers.
There was something wonderful about the secrets these venerable women carried, she felt.
They could wrest life from the jaws of death.
They knew the mysteries of body and blood, sickness and cure.
They were like witches and wizards from the fairy tales of Edwina’s youth, acquainted with truths that most people would never understand.
Healers were so often ignored and overlooked, yet they were so quietly crucial.
So Edwina had watched Drusilla closely, and listened to her for hours as she’d lectured about plants and powders and ointments and poultices.
Laird Cawley had asked Drusilla not to humor Edwina’s silly fantasies, but Drusilla had chosen to ignore those instructions.
Edwina got the sense it was because the woman was rather lonely and enjoyed having someone to confide her secrets in.
There had always been a sort of amused indulgence to her, though, as if she imagined these lessons would never be put into practice.
And why would she think otherwise? After all, it was as Cawley had said: The daughters of lairds, as a rule, did not become healers. As such, these lessons were mere morbid curiosities on Edwina’s part, or so Drusilla imagined.
Now, though, Edwina was not so sure.
Perhaps she might have a chance to use them? Perhaps she might have access to some knowledge or medicine that the McDougals’ healers lacked? At any rate, it was worth a try.
She ventured down into the lower basements of the castle, past the wine cellar and the corridor which led to the dungeons until she reached the private chamber of Drusilla.
She knocked on the door, and the old healer opened it almost immediately.
The lines on her face were a map of the long life she’d had and the many things, both miraculous and horrible, that she had seen along the way.
“What can I do for you, my lady?” she asked, gesturing for Edwina to enter. “Are you unwell?”
“I am in good health,” Edwina replied, taking her usual seat on a stool in the corner. “However, I have been called upon to minister to one who is in dreadful pain and dire need, from the sound of it. Any advice you might wish to offer would be most welcome.”
Edwina told Drusilla about the letter she had received. The older woman listened carefully, and when Edwina was finished, she nodded and went to the rack of small bottles mounted on her wall.
“If it is merely wine he is overindulging in, that can be cured well enough by depriving him of it,” she muttered.
“It will take several wretched days, but it can be wrung from his body. I’d wager, though, that it’s not merely wine but juice of the poppy which he’s taking in order to quell the misery in his leg.
That’s a far trickier problem. Depriving him of it without offering any substitute could drive him mad. The shock of it might even kill him.”
She handed two bottles to Edwina. “Do you still have your mortar and pestle, girl?”
“Aye.”
Drusilla nodded again, satisfied. “Good. If it seems that he has become too reliant on an opiate, grind these two herbs together and dissolve them in water. That will help to wean him away from it, right enough. He’ll still have some trouble, but if he’s taken in hand, that can be dealt with.
And I have every reason you have the strong will and good sense to do that very thing. ”
Edwina went upstairs and carefully packed the bottles with the rest of her things.
Then she said her goodbyes to her family, telling them only that Darina had asked to spend some time alone with her so they would not insist on visiting as well.
Some of them found it a tad peculiar, but it went without comment since they preferred to believe the two sisters might now find a closeness they’d previously lacked.
And perhaps we might, at that, Edwina thought with a grim smile as the carriage started off toward the McDougal lands.
They stopped in a village for the night, and Edwina took a room at the local inn while the driver remained with the horses, sleeping on the seat of the carriage.
They set out early the next day, and before the sun had reached its zenith, they were passing through the gates of McDougal Keep as the heralds on the ramparts announced them with a fanfare.
Darina and Laird Fergus ran into the courtyard to greet Edwina, with their two-year-old son Luca in tow.
Edwina marveled (not for the first time) at how similar the child looked to his mother.
She rarely thought about having children herself, but the sight of young Luca always awakened strange musings within her about what sort of mother she might be, what sort of child she might have, and whether its looks would favor hers or its fathers.
And, of course, who the father of such a child might be.
Would she ever find someone she adored as much as her sister loved Fergus?
She doubted it based on the men she’d met so far.
But then again, the romance between Darina and Fergus had blossomed under the most unlikely circumstances, hadn’t it?
If a woman could fall in love with her reluctant abductor, then surely Edwina might someday find a man who didn’t bore her to tears.
Still, she supposed there was no time for that sort of useless daydreaming. She’d come here with a purpose, after all.
“Thank you so much for coming,” Darina said, embracing her.
“How could I refuse?” Edwina replied wryly. She crouched down and put her hands under Luca’s arms, lifting the boy up. “Good heavens, child, how you’ve grown! What on earth have they been feeding you, eh?”
Luca giggled, and Edwina lowered him again, brushing her hands off briskly and turning to Fergus. “Well met, sir. Carried off any fair maidens lately to imprison in your tower?”
Fergus rolled his eyes good-naturedly. This had become a rather familiar joke between them. “No, Edwina. Now that I’m laird, such tasks are beneath me, so I prefer to hire trolls and ogres to perform them in my stead.”
“Very sensible of you,” she answered with mock solemnity. “I saw the fields and farms on my way here. Your clan appears to be prospering marvelously.”
“Aye, now that it’s been liberated from my father’s tyrannical rule, the people seem to be much happier,” he agreed.
“Their taxes are lower, they aren’t kept beneath our heel, so they work harder and are in better spirits.
I’m quite proud of what we’ve accomplished.
And none of it would have been possible without the aid of your sister. ”
“Yes, she’s quite something, my sister,” Edwina affirmed with a smirk. “It’s a wonderful thing indeed to have siblings one can rely on. Then again, I suppose my reason for being here has something to do with that?”
“Good gracious, Edwina!” Darina blushed, embarrassed.
“What?” Edwina put her hands on her hips challengingly. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
“There’s no need to chide her, Darina, my love,” Fergus spoke up. “She does speak the truth, and indeed, that is why we have invited her here, is it not? Her…penchant for speaking her mind without any thought of tact.”
“You seem rather accomplished at that yourself,” Edwina informed him with an appreciative grin.
“Let me say from the start that I am entirely unconvinced I can provide any service that your own healers have not already offered. That said, I am certainly willing to try my best, as there is nothing I would not do for my beloved sister.”
Darina’s expression softened at that, and with good reason. These were, perhaps, the fondest words Edwina had ever spoken about her (without any trace of irony, at least).
“Come, let me show you to your chambers,” Darina said, “and you may rest a while after your long journey if you like.”
“That’s quite kind of you. Thank you.”
“And while you do that,” Fergus added, “I shall inform my brother that he may expect to be called upon by you. No doubt he will object, but I would say that none of us need pay that any heed.”
“No, I daresay not,” Edwina agreed. “Not if he’s in the state that Darina described to me.”
Edwina allowed her sister to lead her up the grand steps of the keep to a guest chamber in one of the high towers. Edwina found the view of the surrounding hills and fields to be breathtaking—not that she would ever have admitted to that aloud.
She was also amused to see that Darina had set up a small workbench in the corner of the room, stocked with all the basic herbs and supplies of a novice healer.
“Ah, I wasn’t quite sure what you might need, if anything,” Darina said nervously, “or what you might have chosen to bring with you.”
“Aren’t these all the same things the healers here have been using to treat James?” Edwina pointed out ruefully.
“Yes, I suppose they are, but perhaps you might be able to, I don’t know, put them to some different use which the healers here hadn’t, er…considered…”
Edwina laughed. “Oh, do relax, Sister! I had hoped married life might sharpen your sense of humor. I am teasing, of course. It was considerate of you to furnish me with all this.”
“You remain utterly impossible, do you know that?” Darina countered, sticking her tongue out childishly. “At any rate, I shall have some food sent up shortly, and I will leave you to rest. You will need all of your strength to deal with James, I suspect.”
“Is his condition really so awful as that?” Edwina asked, all mocking gone from her voice.
“Worse,” Darina replied. “Oh, so much worse than I could describe in a letter, Edwina. His ill humor is all that stands between my husband and happiness, and I would do anything to see joy in Fergus’s eyes again. Will you help me?”
“I will do all that I can,” Edwina assured her. “I pray it will be enough, but Darina, you will have to prepare yourself for the possibility that it will not. I am not an accomplished healer, and James’s suffering might be far beyond my ability to quell.”
“It is not your expertise I have chosen to rely on,” Darina said, “but your wit and your will. I believe in you, Sister.”
And with that, she took her leave.
Edwina unpacked her things, adding her herbs and tools to those already collected on the workbench. She wanted to rest more than anything, but she found that her anxiety was getting the best of her.
What sort of bitter and besotted horror awaited her later that evening?