Highlander’s Mysterious Lady (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance)

by Fiona Faris

  Fanny led Sophia toward Gilbert and introduced them quickly. The three rushed off to the opposite corner in the great hall, where Fanny had been treating burn victims. The area was small and cramped, but given how many people they would be helping, it was well suited for quick treatments. Nearby, a long line of people waited. There were some with small linens over their feet, or arms, but others were badly injured. Some men moaned in agony while lying miserably on the floor. Some needed help just to keep from falling over. The fires had done so much damage; it was unbelievable how quickly they had moved through the farmlands, wreaking havoc on the clan.

  “Gilbert here has everything organized for us. Keep yer eyes focused on what I do for these next few patients, and then ye can have a hand at it.” Gilbert shot his eyes up as he heard Fanny say this. She had yet to let him try to care for anyone.

  “Come along now, lad,” Fanny waved forward a man with a bright red streak of blisters across his neck. Sophia stood still, focused, and watched as Fanny wiped the wound with a wash. The man leaned back as she poured a tonic over it. Sophia saw how careful she was with the burn, how much ointment she applied, and exactly how she bandaged it.

  “Now tis yer turn.” Fanny called forward another man, one who had been moaning in agony, waiting for his turn to be mended and healed. The man sat in front of Sophia, his leg covered by a torn piece of linen.

  Sophia pulled the fabric away and the man moaned in agony. “Ach, please, God it hurts.”

  “Fanny, ye really think she can do this?” Gilbert sounded almost annoyed with Fanny’s decision.

  “Aye, watch.” Fanny remained confident in Sophia’s abilities.

  Sophia looked at the burn, the fabric, and thought about what to do. Clearly, the man’s burn had blistered and ruptured, and now the linen cloth was stuck to him. If she pulled it off quick, it would hurt. It would expose the skin that needed healing, but it could make the wound worse. Without asking Fanny, Sophia reached instead for the water with the boiled herbs. She poured a cupful on the linen, pressing it more firmly into the wound. The man responded with a groan of pain, but it was milder than the start. Sophia was focused, but she thought saw Fanny nod out of the corner of her eye. After letting the linen soak, Sophia carefully pulled it away, and was happy to find that it did not pull the man’s flesh at all. In fact, he seemed almost relieved.

  With the wound fresh and open, Sophia continued rinsing with the herb water. She knew she needed to get every little bit of debris out so it did not inhibit the healing process. Finally, when she felt it was as clean as it could be, she scooped out some of the tallow ointment. She told the man not to move, and she began applying it directly to the wound. She could see in his eyes that the pain was unbearable, but he listened and trusted Sophia, and that was all she needed. She worked quickly and diligently, applying it in an even fashion.

  Finally, she grabbed some more linen and wrapped the burn. She waved down the two men that had carried in the lad and instructed them to take him somewhere he could rest and have a shot of whiskey to help with the pain.

  “My goodness, Sophia, I had known ye were tae be a natural at this, but I didna expect for it tae come so quick! Ye’ll be doing a fine good job with me. I will show ye everything there is tae know. Now, there are many more tae care for; sit by me and we’ll work in tandem.”

  Gilbert eyed Sophia suspiciously, but said nothing, frustration written clearly across his face.

  The two continued treating burn after burn and scratch after scratch. The wounds weren’t too bad, save for a few, but they were plentiful. The pair only stopped for brief trips to relieve themselves and to drink some ale. After what seemed like hours, Fanny told Sophia they were done for now. They needed to head to the kitchen to get their meals. The afternoon would bring an even bigger group of injured folks, she guessed. Sophia followed her.

  When they got to the stairs, Gilbert shoved past Sophia. “Careful, aye? Ye got tae move quicker or ye’ll be knocked over.”

  Sophia shrunk back, feeling confused and hurt. She was only a few hours into her new life, and already seemed to be making a poor impression. She had to wonder if perhaps it was because Fanny had chosen her to heal the patients. Maybe she had overstepped? Whatever the case, her and Gilbert were going to have to get along—one way or another.

  * * *

  “Ye’ll be staying in one of the quarters that’s provided tae the healing staff. It is near there that I have a space where patients usually come in.” Bread and stew slopped around in Fanny’s mouth as she spoke.

  Sophia wanted to respond, but she was too caught up in her meal. It was past mid-day, and she had been up for hours on end, traveling and then healing. The exhaustion was beginning to weigh on her. Though her new role as Fanny’s apprentice had distracted her from the loss of her home and father, still the events were tugging at her heart and mind. She wanted badly to rest, to close her eyes and wake up to find the events were all some wicked nightmare. She knew, however, that this would not be the case.

  “Ye haven’t anything tae yer name, and there is nae anything ye’ll get in terms of pay really, but ye’ll be provided for here as an apprentice. Ye’ll have a bed, food, and if ye need clothes, the Laird is sure ae provide ye with some.”

  “If he’s nae feeling like a troll, that is,” Gilbert mumbled over his bowl.

  “Aye, dinnae speak like that of Logan. He’s a fine man who has had a tough time.”

  Gilbert rolled his eyes, but said nothing else of the matter.

  “I have heard some things about the Laird—that he has a bit of a heavy hand,” Sophia wanted to say more, but she worried now wasn’t the time or the place to express the true rumors she had heard.

  “Some may disagree, but he is a fine leader. He just needs tae be reminded of it a bit more now after the loss of his wife. But he’s a great father, and though he may be rough, he leads from the heart—and that’s all I want in ma’ leader.”

  Sophia continued eating her stew, wondering when exactly she would meet this infamous Logan. From what her father had once told her, he had taken over the lands fairly young, after the sudden death of his own father. Poor lad has suffered much in his life, losing so many. He had grown the estate in a matter of years, always making sure his people had their needs met. Logan had given the farm their family had tended was given to her father after he presented some ideas for how to improve the estate.

  Once, only a few months ago, Sophia’s father had mentioned that the Laird rarely did things like that now. He took no chances with who could grow what. Instead, he required everyone pay a hefty duty to even attempt to plant anything or raise any kind of animals. Perhaps he hasn’t changed for good. She hoped he hadn’t, anyways. Loss can change people for the worse, but it doesn’t mean the change is permanent.

  They all finished their meals in near silence. Fanny instructed them all to return to the great hall in a few hours, where there were sure to be more patients come dinner time. She led Sophia to her new bedchamber.

  “I appreciate this, Fanny.” Sophia’s eyes fell once she entered her new bedchamber. The shock of everything was settling in deeper with every passing moment. She was glad, and lucky to be given an opportunity to be an apprentice—especially now, when she most needed it.

  “Say nothin’ about it, Sophia. Ye were born tae be a healer. We’ll pull it out of ye in no time.”

  “Fanny, how long has Gilbert been apprentice? Why dinnae he mend any of the patients?”

  Fanny paused in the doorway, considering her words and thinking whether now would be a proper moment. She entered the room and leaned in toward Sophia.

  “Gilbert is a decent enough lad. But he’s nae much of a natural, and sometimes I wonder if his heart is in it.”

  Sophia nodded, understanding what she meant by this. Fanny left the room, leaving Sophia to her new life.

  Chapter Five

  The great hall was abuzz with movement. Normally, this amount of people meant there was
some grand event taking place, but this time the large group of people only made Logan anticipate just how much work he would need to do in order to fix his estate. He moved around through the afternoon, tending to the people. There were many who were badly injured, many who were famished, and still others who needed a spot to rest and a place to wipe the ash off of themselves. He ordered the kitchen staff around, directing them towards those in most need of assistance.

  As he was walking around the room, he noticed some children crying in a far corner, with parents who looked about as exhausted as everyone else in the room. He walked over to a family who sat apart from the others. Their faces were ashen and scratched. The children were young, maybe even younger than Ava, which saddened Logan tremendously. So many children had been affected by this.

  Logan asked, “Are thee wee ones alrigh’? Are they needin’ anything?”

  The mother picked up one of the smaller ones and sat her on her lap. “Aye, they’re alright, just a bit hungry is all. We left so suddenly, and these ones is in need of a breakfast still.”

  “I’m sorry, ye must be very hungry indeed. I’ll see tae it that you have a meal in front of ye very soon.” Logan flagged down a staff member. The kitchen worker came running to him, a slight fear in his eyes. In a whisper, Logan ordered a bowl of stew for each of the members sitting there and a plate of rolls to pass around the hall. The man nodded in agreement and rushed off as quick as he had arrived.

  Logan looked back to the mother. The father dozed peacefully on her shoulder. “How old are the wee ones?”

  The woman pointed with her chin to the one on her lap, “This here’s Martha, and she’s about to turn six. That wee one o’er there, I’m nae entirely sure; I believe she’s five. We found her on our way out of the area. If I recall, her mother required a cane to move around, and I believe she might have been one of the ones who perished in the fire.” She said this with a frown.

  Logan was shocked at how much loss he was witnessing around him. Here was a little girl without her mother. His own daughter had numerous women around her to never feel as though she had suffered such a great loss. But this little girl had become an orphan overnight.

  “Well, I am mighty glad ye found her. We’ll be sure tae care for all of ye while yer here in the keep, dinnae worry.”

  And Logan intended on keeping his word. Something stirred in Logan that hadn’t come up in a long while. As he looked around, he knew his people needed him, but in a way that hadn’t needed him before. In a way, this even had awakened him, made him realize he was going to do everything in his power to protect and serve his people with dignity and grace.

  He continued moving through the hall, guiding his staff to bring bowls and bread to various people. Logan paused for a moment to lean against a wall. He was exhausted, having risen in the early hours before dawn. As he was taking a moment to himself, he felt a soft hand caress his shoulder, drape down his muscular arm, only to end by resting gently on his hand. The fingers gave a soft tap to get his attention. He turned, and in front of him stood a blushing young woman. Her corset was knotted very tight and Logan could not help but be drawn to her figure, even if it had soft streaks of ash and grime.

  “Why, hello there,” he said, fumbling on his words.

  The woman laughed softly. She looked behind her, where there stood two others roughly about her same age.

  “Hello, we thought ye might be able tae direct us tae a place where we could wash up?” She paused and wiped her overflowing bosom. “We are very, very much in need of some fresh water tae wipe away some of this soot.”

  Logan’s eyes roamed every part of her figure. His attentions lingered in the areas that called out to him, and the woman leaned further into his gaze. As much as he was drawn to the idea of her soft flesh beneath his fingers, he found his mind instead running back to all he had to do that day. Yes, he missed the touch of a woman, he missed the body of a woman in his bed, but this was not a time when he cared to go after that longing. Instead, he found his mind too preoccupied to stop for her. He stepped past her gently.

  “If ye’ll follow me, I’ll show ye where we’ve placed basins with fresh water. There are some soft cloths for ye tae wipe your face, and uh, whatever else may need wiping as well.” He wished he hadn’t said the last part. The woman chuckled regardless, perhaps enjoying his stammering and shyness. He led the three woman to the basins and gave them each a fresh linen to wipe themselves clean.

  Before he moved away from them, the woman gave it one last try, and leaned into him.

  “Thank ye so much for yer help.” She fluttered her eyelashes, not realizing it was a wasted effort.

  He replied kindly, “If ye need anything, just ask me.”

  “I’ll be sure tae,” she said with a smile and a lift in her brow.

  Logan walked away quicker than he would care to admit. He had been so flustered by the situation, but there was no denying that a part of him, a rather large part of him, was aching to get closer to the woman. Some days, he just craved the release of a wild night in bed; he longed for hands running along his bare flesh. Some nights, after the quilt rubbed against his bare skin just right, he woke with a soft whimper.

  But it wasn’t any woman he wanted. He wanted his Isla. In bed, they had been magic together—so much so that every person who slept near their bedchambers opted to move to other rooms because the noises woke them far too often. But he did not just miss their nights together. He missed her entire way of being, and in the wake of the tragedy surrounding him, this was painfully obvious.

  Logan re-entered the main portion of the great hall just as a commotion sounded near the entrance. People moved out of the way as a woman who was clearly with child stumbled through the door, yelping in pain and struggling to walk. Logan rushed to her side. In a matter of moments, he was next to her, helping carry her body forward. She leaned into his arms and welcomed the assistance.

  “Me husband, he’s away trading, and me house has burnt. I barely got out. Laird, help me. Please.” She stumbled as she walked and leaned on Logan to hold her up. Logan looked at her swollen belly and flew back immediately to that fateful night.

  “Outta the way! Let the lassie through,” he shouted to everyone who stood in the way. The woman was clearly injured and exhausted. “Here, have a seat on this bench.”

  She gave his arm a pat and walked forward to the bench he mentioned.

  “Thank ye so very much.” As she leaned to sit down fully, she winced in pain. “Tis my feet. I struggled tae get out, and I’ve been badly blistered. I had to walk for so long tae get here.” Logan looked down and saw the wounds along her feet. She was clearly hurt, and badly. He needed to get her help now. He looked around for Fanny or her apprentice Gilbert, but did not see her anywhere.

  “I’ll get ye a healer. We’ll take care of ye, dinnae ye move.” She nodded and leaned against the wall. She tilted her head back and shut her eyes, exhausted from the journey. Logan stood quickly and moved across the room trying to find Fanny. All he saw were masses of people. As he looked back to the pregnant woman, eyes closed and clearly in pain, a familiar panic swept over him. He needed to take care of this woman. Every bone in his body told him it was his responsibility to make sure nothing else happened to her.

  “Aye, where is the healer? I need Fanny er Gilbert, now.” People jumped back at his bellowing voice. They stepped away from him, unsure of how to respond. “Where is Fanny? Fanny!” He continued yelling, not caring who he disrupted or scared. She was nowhere to be found. “Fanny!”

  “Will ye stop all yer yellin! Yer scaring people straight tae their deaths, and we dinnae be needin anymore of tha’ now, aye!” Logan turned to find a thin woman standing before him with wild primrose hair and a fierce determination in her eyes. He paused for a second, shocked at this lassie’s will to tell him, the Laird, to quiet down. Where had this woman come from, and who was she to believe she could speak to him like that?

  “I need Fanny, now!” As he
stared into her eyes longer he noticed their paleness, a light green color that resembled lichen. They were beautiful in a strange and wondrous way. As mesmerizing as they were, he was on a mission to get help to the poor woman, and no lichen-eyed beauty was going to deter him.

  “Well, there are a whole lotta people who be needin Fanny right now, and we’re doin’ our best tae get the help tae everyone who needs it. But ye canna go around shouting and screamin’; ye’ll have tae wait like everyone else.” She shifted her weight onto one foot and placed her fist at the indent of her waist. She was not afraid of him, and as interesting as this realization was, Logan could not allow anyone, especially this young woman, to speak to him like this. There were people around. What would they say if he allowed anyone to speak to him in such a way?

  “Ye canna speak tae me like that! I’ll have ye chained up and thrown in tae the dungeon!” He took a step toward her, but the woman did not back down. Her feet were firmly planted, and nothing short of a wildfire would get her to move. She was not afraid of him, and it showed plainly on her face. He had not meant to threaten her with the dungeon, but it was all he could think of in the moment. He was angry.