Chapter 31
Cairren tried not to curl her nose in revulsion as the child sneezed on her again.
She felt bad for the little boy who coughed until he was hoarse, but she didn’t enjoy knowing she was likely to catch whatever he spewed onto her.
She’d helped the little boy, Douglas, and his mother, Athne, since early morning.
She’d given him three cool baths despite the woman’s protest that bathing so often would only make him worse.
Cairren explained that the cool water would help bring down his fever, and while Athne grumbled, she finally admitted that the bath was helping to do what the willow bark tea hadn’t.
“Athne, I will leave this coltsfoot for you. Add a little honey when you brew the tea. It will make the tea thicker to coat Douglas’s throat.
That will help with the cough, especially at night.
If he has those bouts of coughing again, you must use the sheet and steaming water that I showed you.
It’s the only way he’ll catch his breath.
I’ve already ground the black mustard seeds.
Remember, you can add them to a warm bath or the poultice I made.
Only mix it with the poultice when you’re ready to use it.
If you let it sit, it won’t be as effective.
I’ll come back tomorrow to check on him.
When he’s on the mend, I’ll show you how to make a tea from speedwell.
If you give it to him regularly, then he shouldn’t get sick again so easily. ”
Cairren looked at the woman who seemed to stare past her. She turned to find Father Mitchell standing outside the open door. She smiled, but the priest’s face grew red, as though she’d insulted him.
“Leave this God-fearing woman’s house, you slattern.” Father Mitchell barked. Cairren stared dumbfounded, but Athne jumped as if it revived her from a trance.
“She’s brewing potions to poison ma wean!” Athne shouted, and Cairren heard the murmur of voices outside, but she couldn’t see the people.
“I did not. You asked for me to come here, and I helped relieve your son’s fever and end his coughing fits. There’s naught wrong with what I used. They’re commonly known remedies.”
“For a witch who practices the dark arts,” Father Mitchell accused.
“Nay. These are remedies your previous healer surely used. Athne, I didn’t say aught while I made the teas. All I talked aboot was how to make them yourself.”
“Ye would have me poison ma wean. Ye must have thought yer curses.”
Cairren looked out the window as a crowd gathered. She couldn’t believe the woman was claiming things that would likely get Cairren burned at the stake before Padraig rode back into the bailey.
“Bring the witch out here,” Father Mitchell ordered before stepping aside.
Two hulking guards dragged Cairren from the croft.
She recognized them as the men who’d laughed the second and third times she requested guards.
She regretted telling Padraig he should take Peter and Henry with him.
Dougal was still injured, and Padraig granted Matthew time off to stay with Catriona and Liam.
She didn’t have a guard with her that day.
As the men dragged her past Father Micheil, he flicked what looked like holy water at her, but it burned when it touched her skin.
“Aughhh,” Cairren spluttered as more water hit her skin. She knew it was barely diluted lye. She could smell it, and she didn’t understand why no one else seemed to notice.
“It burns her! She is a witch!” Father Mitchell crowed. “Have her locked in the dungeon.”
She watched as the crowd stood stunned at Father Mitchell’s pronouncement. Many looked around, unsure whether to agree with the priest. Cairren could tell that several were tempted to side with him, heads slowly starting to nod.
“She isnae a witch,” Meg’s voice called out as she pushed through the crowd. “She’s a kind woman who saved ma lassie’s hands.”
“With her heresies,” Father Mitchell sneered.
“Nay. With kindness,” Meg argued.
“You’ve told others that you went outside when Lady Cairren treated Katie. You didn’t see the evil she cast over your daughter, but you heard her screams. Why did you do naught?” the priest demanded.
“I refuse to believe this. Ma daughter’s hands healed because of Lady Cairren. It had naught to do with evil. It had to do with experience and kindness.”
“What aboot Catriona’s bairn? She practiced dark arts to bring the bairn into the world, then wove a spell to make him a changeling. That’s why the sickly bairn now thrives.” A woman’s voice called from the back.
“I was with ma daughter and grandbairn the entire time,” Elspeth called out.
She pushed to stand next to Cairren. “I was doubtful too. Nae because of witchery, but because she’s foreign.
But I watched. She saved ma lass’s life and her bairn’s.
Padraig was with her when she came back to help wee Liam’s breathing.
He wouldnae allowed evil to enter our home. He would ken.”
“She’s bewitched him,” Father Mitchell retorted. He flung more lye at Cairren, but she was unprepared. It splashed her face, and she cried out. “See. Proof. It still burns. Lock her in the dungeon.”
“Nay!” Meg cried out. “If ye’re wrong, Padraig will lash ye all. If ye insist on locking her away, put her in her chamber. But mark ma words, ye will have a reckoning, and it willna be with God. It’ll be with Padraig. And for yer sake, ye should fear him more.”
Cairren didn’t struggle as the men shuffled her away. She entered the Great Hall to Mary and Micheil rushing forward. She witnessed equal looks of shock before smugness replaced it.
“I always knew she was naught but filth,” Mary hissed.
Cairren did what she could to keep up with the men, but she stumbled over her skirts several times as they dragged her up the stairs.
They thrust her into her chamber, but she didn’t hear the door lock from the outside.
She put her ear to the door and heard a slight rustling, but she suspected the men were walking away.
She ran to the ewer, but it was empty. This wasn’t supposed to be her chamber anymore.
Her face still burned, but far less than it had when the water first splattered it.
She’d been fortunate it hadn’t splashed in her eye.
She prayed Padraig returned soon, but it was barely midmorning.
Cairren lay on the bed and closed her eyes.
She replayed the entire day from when she woke beside Padraig to working tirelessly to help Douglas to the confrontation in the village.
Her head pounded as she considered her options.
Padraig was but one man. Both of his parents, along with his older brother--who was the laird’s heir--and the clan’s priest all despised her.
They would gladly agree to putting her to the fire now because they had her dowry and no longer had a need for her.
This was the excuse they needed to do away with her.
The look of confusion and shock on Mary and Micheil’s faces made her think they hadn’t conspired with the priest, but they would support his accusations.
Micheil would decree her a witch and light the straw they would pack beneath her feet.
What am I going to do? I can’t stay here. The weather will change soon, and I’ll be stuck in the Highlands if I survive long enough to see the next season.
The thought of seasons made her consider how long she’d been at Foulis, and unparalleled fear crept into her mind. Cairren laid her hand over her belly as she counted back in her head.
St Columba’s bones! I’ve been here more than two moons, and I haven’t had my courses.
Could I be with child? If I am, this changes everything.
I can’t have a bairn here. Not until I ken that my wean would be safe.
If I’m carrying a bairn, then I can’t stay.
It doesn’t even matter anymore whether Padraig cares aboot me.
Cairren pressed against her belly as she stretched out on her bed.
As she pressed in specific places, she became fairly certain she was pregnant.
She considered other signs that she should have noticed.
Her breasts were tender, certain smells turned her stomach, but she hadn’t been ill at all.
She supposed that was the one warning bell that hadn’t rung, and so she had missed the others.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and eased to the door, once again placing her ear against it.
There was no sound in the passageway. She pressed down on the handle and waited, but no one tried to storm into her chamber, so she eased it open.
She looked down the corridor; there was no one in sight.
She slipped from the chamber, careful as she closed the door.
Creeping to the stairs, Cairren looked over the side, but once again, no one was in sight.
She lifted her skirts out of the way and hurried down them, sprinting down the passageway to the chamber she shared with Padraig.
She pushed open the door, half hoping Padraig would be waiting for her.
She pushed the door shut, wincing when it clicked.
She hurried to her chest and pulled out the parchment, quill, and ink she was yet to use.
She marched to the table, forcing a sense of confidence she knew was fake.
She looked at the writing utensils she spread out on the table, and she decided what she needed to do.
Laird Sutherland,
I write to you in need of urgent help. I shall not mince words with my request. I was a friend of your daughter, Blair, while I served Her Majesty at Stirling Castle.
As you are most likely aware, I recently married Padraig Munro.
My father told me before he left that should I ever fear for my safety, I should make my way to Sutherland.
I’m in danger, but I do not believe I can make it to your land unnoticed.
My reception among the Munros has been cold at best and hostile at worst. While my husband hasn’t mistreated me, I continue to hear threats and insults.
Today they falsely accused me of a crime while Padraig is away from the keep.
He is but one man among a sea of those eager to believe the worst of me.
I do not look like those around me, and so my oddity has bred hatred.
As I believe it is not only my own life that it is at risk, I beseech you to help me make it to court.
My sister recently filled my position, so I have family there now.
My parents will surely make their way as soon as they learn of my arrival.
I know the weather will change soon, but I fear being on Munro land through winter as I won’t be able to hide my growing concern for too much longer.
If you can send an escort within the next sennight, I will ensure I am ready to depart as soon as the sentry spots your party. No one need ride into the bailey, just close enough for them to announce your presence. I can make my way out on my own.
With gratitude,
Lady Cairren Munro
Cairren hurried to seal the missive but put no name on the outside of the parchment.
She didn’t press her signet ring into the wax either.
She needed to get to Matthew. With Dougal still injured and Peter and Henry still away with Padraig, she could only trust Matthew to ride to Sutherland.
It was a day’s ride each way. She prayed he would accept her request. She slipped down the back stairway, knowing the servants would be preparing for the midday meal, the chambers already cleaned.
As she neared the door that led to the gardens, she pulled her arisaid over her head and tucked her arms inside.
She counted her blessings that she was wearing her Munro plaid because she hadn’t thought about it until she was ready to step outside.
She kept her head down and hurried toward the postern gate.
She strained to see who had duty there, but she couldn’t see the man’s face.
Cairren wanted to weep with relief when she recognized Matthew standing before the portal. He was looking in her direction, so she nodded and crept into the shadows of the garden.
“I will spirit ye away, ma lady. Ma horse is already saddled, and I prayed ye would come this way.”
“Nay. Matthew. I can’t leave yet. I need you to deliver this message to the Sutherlands. You don’t have to ride all the way to Dunrobin, just to the border. There’s bound to be a patrol. Tell them the missive is from me and urgent.”
“Ma lady, ye dinna understand. The laird has already passed judgment. Ye’re to burn this eve. Ye canna stay. We must go away now.”
“Tonight?”
“Aye. Please, Lady Cairren. I can explain to Padraig where ye’ve gone when I return.”
“No! You can’t tell him where you’re taking me.”
“I can’t lie to him.”
“Then don’t tell him you’re the one who took me. I need more time at Sutherland. If Padraig kens where I am, he’ll bring me back. He can’t overrule his father. He’ll only be punished along with me.”
Matthew was slow to nod, but he relented. He pulled the postern gate open, and they slipped through. They were mounted and racing away from Foulis Castle within minutes.