Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Aye, ’tis a sprain all right, and quite a nasty one at that,” Mairead announced after a few minutes, leaning back on her heels.
“Ye did well tae bind it tae keep down the swellin’.
Rest it as much as possible on a pillow and it’ll be fine.
I’ll put on some arnica salve fer the bruisin’ and then I’ll strap it up fer ye. ”
“Och, that feels much better, Mairead, I’m grateful tae ye,” Catriona said when it was done, admiring Mairead’s neat bandaging as she tentatively moved her ankle. “It daesnae ache so much now.”
She settled her foot on the stool once more and went on, “I must confess, I feel a bit of a fraud fer taking up yer time. I told the laird it was only a sprain, but he’s an fusspot.”
Mairead smiled as she rose to her feet. “Aye, he was most insistent that I come and see ye, me lady. He gave me strict orders tae examine ye thoroughly, whatever yer objections.”
Catriona laughed. “Aye, I bet he did. Honestly, ye’d think me leg was about tae fall off, the way he’s been actin’. I’ve knowledge of healin’ mesel’, but that was nae good enough.”
Mairead perked up. “Ye dae? How so, me lady?”
Catriona nodded and proceeded to explain about how Elaina’s teachings had encouraged her early interest in the healing arts and about her time working in the infirmary at the priory.
“Why, that’s wonderful, me lady,” Mairead exclaimed, slipping her satchel over her shoulder. “Ye have a lot of experience. I’d love tae talk with ye about it. A healer is always learnin’, as they say. Nay wonder ye’ve made such a good job of lookin’ after yer ankle.”
That pleased Catriona very much. “Comin’ from ye, Mairead, I take that as a great compliment, thank ye. But there’s a good reason I mentioned it tae ye.”
“Oh?” Mairead looked at her enquiringly.
Catriona leaned forward in her chair, eager to explain the idea that had been forming in her mind while Mairead worked. She thought it quite brilliant.
“Ye see, Mairead, I’ll be stayin’ here at Castle Gordon fer a wee while, but I cannae be certain exactly how long.
It might be just fer a few days, or it could be weeks.
But however long it is, I cannae just sit around idle.
I’ll go mad with boredom. I’m used tae workin’ every day.
Would ye consider lettin’ me come and assist ye in the infirmary? I’m sure I could make mesel’ useful.”
Mairead’s face lit up. “I’d be delighted tae have help from someone so experienced,” she replied at once. “Would ye like tae come by the infirmary tomorrow afternoon and see what I have in store fer ye? I’ve already got a wee list in me head of jobs fer ye tae dae,” she admitted, smiling playfully.
After agreeing to meet the following afternoon in the infirmary, Mairead took her leave.
Catriona picked up her wine and sipped it, feeling very pleased with herself. The work would be satisfying and keep her busy. It would also provide the perfect excuse to stay out of Malcolm’s way and avoid the confusing, embarrassing effects of his proximity.
She finished her wine, slipped off her robe, then got into bed. With a sigh of contentment, she got herself cozy and then promptly fell asleep.
When she awoke, the fire had burned low, and the candle by the bed was stuttering. Everything was quiet within the castle. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she peered at the mantel clock, surprised to see it was almost midnight.
She tried to get back to sleep, but her worries soon came flooding in, and it proved impossible to rest.
I’ll go and have a wee drink.
Sliding carefully out of bed, she put on the woolen robe and slippers she had borrowed. Then, leaning on the walking stick, she set out gingerly in search of a soothing beverage.
Since leaving the council meeting, Malcolm had bathed, shaved, dined, then slept intensely for a few hours before waking up at about half past eleven.
Within moments, all his concerns about Catriona and Sinclair rushed back into his mind, bringing with them a restlessness that would not allow him further rest.
Now fully alert, he decided to patrol the castle to make sure all was secure before heading up to the upper levels to join his men. He dressed and after strapping on his weapons, left his chambers and strode downstairs to the Great Hall to get a drink.
Catriona was very much at the forefront of his thoughts, hence his surprise at finding her sitting in a chair by the fire, staring absently into the flames, nursing a cup of something between her hands.
He halted mid-step, feeling a pleasurable warmth flow through him as he silently observed her for a few moments, wondering if she would welcome his company.
He let his gaze move slowly over her. She was wrapped in a scarlet robe, and her auburn hair was hanging in a long, thick plait over her shoulder, its color intensified by the firelight.
He thought she resembled nothing so much as a princess from the pages of a storybook, beautiful and yet terribly sad.
Is she real or am I seein’ things?
His feet moved of their own accord, beating a path towards the vision. He was only a few feet away when she looked up. He saw recognition dawn in her eyes, her delicate brows arching in surprise.
“Malcolm, I didnae expect tae see ye here,” she said softly, and smiled up at him.
The smile was unexpectedly warm, and it did something to him, causing a sudden tightening sensation in his chest.
“So, ye are real and nae a mirage,” he said, standing over her, breathing in heady scents of lavender and… hyacinth?
She chuckled softly. “As real as ye, I suppose.”
He nodded. “Good answer. How’s yer ankle? Did Mairead come tae see ye?”
“Aye, she did, and fer yer information, she gave me ankle a thorough examination. ’Tis a sprain, just as I said, so all yer fussin’ was fer naught.”
“Ye cannae be too careful about these things,” he retorted, grinning as he parodied her voice.
Her lips twitched. “And what about yer hand? Have ye had Mairead look at it yet? We had a deal if ye recall.”
He held up his hand, now minus its bandage. “It came off in the tub,” he explained.
“So, ye havenae kept up yer side of the bargain, I take it?” she admonished playfully.
“I’ve been very busy since we got back. I havenae had time,” he defended himself, then admitted ruefully, “Tae be honest, I’d forgotten all about it. It daesnae hurt.”
“Because ’tis just a wee scratch,” she said, mimicking voice in return, making him laugh. “Well, ye’d best let me look at it.” She reached out and beckoned him to give her his hand.
With a sigh, he gave it to her, secretly enjoying the softness of her touch as she examined the gash.
After a few moments, she surrendered his hand and gave an approving nod. “Nae bad. It looks clean and well on the way tae healin’ up. Ye have remarkable powers of recovery, Laird Gordon.”
“I have several other remarkable powers as well, but I dinnae tell everybody about them in case they get jealous,” he joked, disconcerted to feel his hand tingling where she had touched it.
She threw her head back and laughed, a soft, throaty sound that added to the warm glow inside him. He realized with a shock that he was enjoying himself. It felt good to banter with her once more.
“Even so, ye owe me a trip tae the infirmary,” she insisted.
Changing the subject, he asked, “And what of yer ankle. Is it still painin’ ye?”
“Only when I try tae walk on it. Mairead has strapped it up beautifully.”
“Did she dae as neat a job as I did?” he asked, wishing he could inspect the injured foot himself, and mayhap brush his fingers over the silky white skin of her calf again.
Nay. Dinnae go there, man, he silently berated himself once more, clamping down hard on the wayward thought.
Guilt welled up inside him for even thinking of her with such blatant carnality, for it felt as though he was betraying Duncan’s faith in him to protect her just as much as if he had ravished her.
It hastae stop!