Rosalyn frowned. “Fen, are you all right?”
Fen cleared her throat. “Of course I’m all right, why do you ask?”
Rosalyn scrutinized her friend. “You look a little flushed.”
“Well of course I’m flushed,” she rushed to say. “I’ve been working like a madwoman on this place.”
They all went into the big room where Geddes was stacking wood very precisely in the woodbox.
“Oh, good. You’re both here. Fletcher and I have something to tell you,” Rosalyn announced. “Your Grace?”
Geddes came and stood beside Fen, his arm brushing against hers. Once again she felt her heart go bump.
His Grace cleared his throat. “I made an impulsive decision, one I hope you, Mrs. Begley, can live with.”
Fen glanced at Rosalyn and then back at the laird. “You’ve made a decision that involves me?”
Rosalyn put her hand on her husband’s arm. “Kerry was being particularly bad-tempered, having just learned that the chaperone was going back to America, and His Grace decided, quite impetuously, that she should work with you here, in the clinic.”
Fen automatically moved closer to Geddes and quite innocently put her arm through his. The motion was not lost on Rosalyn, who raised her eyebrows.
“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Fen said. “She will see all sorts of things here, things that perhaps no youngster should see, but I can put her to use doing simple things, and she can watch the flow of island humanity come and go through the door.”
“Good,” His Grace answered. “The sooner she starts, the better.”
“If anyone can bring her around, Fen, it’s you,” Rosalyn said warmly.
“Bring her by tomorrow. Nessa MacNab is bringing her little ones in to have their ears checked. She says they’ve been pulling on them and waking at night, screaming their heads off. No doubt they have some sort of infection.”
Rosalyn studied her brother and her friend once again. “Well, I guess that does it, then, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” Fletcher said. “It’s time for us to go. Thank you, Mrs. Begley, for your generosity. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”
Fen watched them leave, noting how carefully the laird handled his wife, her very dear friend, and she began to feel that perhaps their relationship just might work after all.
She turned from the doorway and found Geddes watching her. “Would you like to have dinner with me, Fenella?”
“I’d like that. Why don’t we have dinner at my cottage? I think I can whip up something for the two of us.”
He gave her a broad smile. “As you wish.”
Fen’s life was changing so fast she was almost dizzy. She was giddy, too, but that had nothing to do with her new clinic, she was very certain of that. Before she lost her nerve, she said, “Geddes, I’ve been alone a long while and I’ve been perfectly content. But ever since you came into my life, my feelings for being alone have changed.” At his look of confusion, she continued, “I’m too old to be coy. I want to spend more time with you. I know this isn’t the proper thing to do, but then, I have never been one to give a rat’s behind about propriety. Would you be interested in calling on me?”
Actually, she wanted to drag him into her bed, but she knew that would scare him away. Wee little steps, she told herself. Wee little baby steps.
Geddes flushed; his ears turned red, but he cleared his throat and said, “You, madam, have seen me nearly naked. I think we’re beyond the calling stage, don’t you?”
She remembered his glorious furry chest and felt a fluttering, a swelling and heat deep in that place that had been dead for so very, very long. Picking up her cape and her gloves and pocketing the key to her new clinic, she answered, “Let’s not waste any more time, shall we?”
• • •
Geddes raised his arms over his head and stared at the ceiling, quite satisfied with himself. “I don’t know why we didn’t do this sooner.”
Fen chuckled softly and nuzzled him. “Because you were fighting so hard to dislike me, I suppose.”
He rolled onto his side and cupped her small, firm breast, causing the strawberry-colored nipple to pebble. “Your skin is perfection.” He splayed his fingers over her ribcage and then traveled downward, across her navel. “Who would have thought you would be as delicate and succulent as cream under all that mannish clothing?”
Fen stirred beneath his touch and reached over to run her fingers through the tawny hair that covered his chest. “When I applied that poultice to your chest weeks ago, it was all I could do to keep from touching you exactly like this.” She continued to move south, found him, and made a satisfied sound in her throat. “You are quite ready again, aren’t you?”
He groaned with pleasure. “Madam, I haven’t been with a woman for so long, I may need to thrust my sword into your sheath until you die of either weariness or boredom.”
She actually laughed. “Not likely boredom. Not likely at all. And I find your sword very, very ample, my dear man, big and hard and robust. And as far as being celibate, I may have you beat.” With that, she continued to stroke him until he tested her readiness, finding her as wet as she was when he took her the first time.
Geddes discovered he liked it when she talked so blatantly—it made him feel as randy as a boy. He whipped back the covers, exposing her nakedness, and she shifted her legs so they were slightly parted.
He ran his fingers over her dusty curls and then slid one finger inside, prompting her to spread her legs further to ease his entrance. He bent and placed a kiss over her slightly protruding clitoris, drinking in her scent, and she shuddered so deeply he wondered if she had had another orgasm.
He briefly looked up at her and said, “No matter who was celibate the longest, at least we are celibate no longer.”
With that, he eased himself into her and they rode together toward another brilliant explosion of pleasure.
Chapter Twenty-Three
After they left the new clinic they took a drive around the island so Fletcher could once again see the land that belonged to him. They went north; he wanted to see the horses again. Perhaps he’d been mistaken about the number.
As the herd came into view, he counted only what he had counted before. “Can they be grazing somewhere else, do you suppose?”
Rosalyn studied the herd. “I’ve never heard that they were anywhere but here. There certainly don’t seem to be nearly as many as I’d been told.”
“The other day I asked around to see who might be familiar with the herd. Fergie the Burn said that when he arrived on Hedabarr, he was told the herd was nearly one hundred.” Fletcher shook his head as he glanced at the few dozen remaining horses. “I don’t understand it.”
As they rode back toward home, it seemed that word had gotten out that the crofters were no longer to pay for their land, and those who were outside bowed and waved as they rode by.
“They adore you,” Rosalyn said.
“I’m happy to see them more content,” he answered. “There’s more than enough for everyone here.” He pointed toward a small row of buildings. “That’s the new distillery. There was some at our wedding celebration and I had never tasted anything quite so smooth. I want them to succeed.”
They rode along in silence and then Fletcher glanced down at Rosalyn’s stomach. “When do you think you conceived?”
Feeling a little self-conscious, she said quietly, “I think it was that very first night, when you…you were having the nightmare.”
“That was months ago,” he calculated. “How are you feeling?”
“Actually, I’m much better. I did have a bit of queasiness at the beginning, but that’s to be expected.”
Fletcher put his arm around her and she leaned into him. “I don’t want you taking any unnecessary chances, Rosalyn. I don’t want you going off on your own anymore. If I can’t go with you, take one of the boys or Evan. Under no circumstances are you to wander off on your own.”
She cocked he
r head and looked up at him. “That’s rather high-handed of you, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely. I don’t want anything happening to you or to our child.” He turned and kissed her hair, gently rubbing his nose against her skin.
It was almost more than Rosalyn could stand. The gentleness, the tenderness, the concern…did it mean that he might actually learn to love her?
“Can we still…be intimate?” he asked cautiously.
She bit the corner of her lip to keep from smiling. “That’s rather a sedate way of putting it, don’t you think? After all, you’ve made love to me in some very bizarre places and only twice in a bed, and one of those times you didn’t even know it was me.”
He dropped his gaze to his lap. “How you must have detested me.”
She felt such a rush of feeling for him, she wondered if she could speak. “Believe me, I wanted to. I knew it wasn’t me you had been so passionate with, and to have Geddes walk in on us like that made things oh, so much worse. But I dreamed about you often after that, and you truly had awakened something that I’d long thought was dead.”
He stirred next to her and placed his hand on her thigh. “You’re getting me all worked up, wife. I may have to take you right here in the buggy.”
“And frighten the poor horse? He’d probably take off at a gallop and we’d end up in the bushes.”
Her husband glanced around. “Ah, the bushes. Even better.”
• • •
A week after Kerry started coming to the clinic, things were no better. Fen was examining Nessa MacNab’s two-year-old girl when Kerry slouched into the room, her eyes darting about, her mouth in a perpetual pout.
“Good morning, Kerry,” Fen greeted her. “Would you mind straightening up the medicine cabinet? I have my hands full here.” She watched as the girl slunk over to the cabinet where Fen kept her medicines.
Fen fed small amounts of warm oil into the child’s ear, causing the little lass to scream. “It’s all right, lassie,” Fen said soothingly. She glanced at Nessa, who was trying to quiet her youngest boy while the older one, Clyde, ignored her. With her arm in a sling, Nessa had difficulty handling one of her children, much less three.
Suddenly Kerry was at her side. “What’s wrong with her and what are you doing to her?”
“She has an earache. The oil will hopefully ease her discomfort.” She glanced at Kerry, noting her concerned expression.
“But she’s still bawling.” Kerry frowned, her dark, shapely brows pulled into a furrow.
“Aye,” said Fen, “and she may cry until the pressure eases up.” She watched as Kerry studied the child, taking in her ragged clothing, chafed cheeks, and snarled hair. Then she saw the girl glance at Nessa and the two boys, all of whom were in ragged clothing. Both of the boys had red and runny noses and both sniffled and coughed, wiping their noses with their fists.
There was no chance to chat the rest of the day. One patient after another came to Fen with anything from boils ready to burst to broken arms to bruised ribs. She kept Kerry busy boiling water, bringing her clean cloths and unguents, and cleaning up after the patients.
At the end of the day, Kerry stood by the window, just as quiet as she’d been all day.
“You’ve been a big help today, Kerry,” Fen said. “I hope you’ll continue to help me.”
Kerry turned, her face creased with distress. “How did that girl get those bruises on her ribs?”
Fen straightened the medicine cabinet and closed the glass door. “Her da was unhappy with the meal she prepared for him.”
“But she wasn’t even as old as I am.”
“Aye,” said Fen, “but her mam died some time back, and the lassie is the only girl in a house with four brothers. It’s up to her to carry on where her mam left off.”
Kerry’s frown deepened. “But it’s unfair of him to hit her. She’s probably doing the best she can.”
Fen remembered Roz telling her that Kerry, too, had cooked for her family. Obviously she had not been abused. Thank God. “Fairness has nothing to do with life on the isle, Kerry.”
Kerry chewed on her thumbnail and returned to staring out the window. “And the little boy with the broken arm?”
Fen smiled sadly. “I’m sure you want me to tell you he fell from a tree while playing with his brothers, or while sneaking apples from a neighbor’s yard.”
Kerry turned toward her again. “How did he break it?”
“His uncle broke it for him.”
Kerry gasped. “Why?”
Fen wondered how much to tell the girl. She decided that the truth, as harsh as it was, was what Kerry needed. “The little fellow didn’t bring home enough money.”
“Doing what? He couldn’t have been more than seven or eight years old.”
“He’s a pickpocket, Kerry. Do you know what that is?” Fen crossed to the alcove near the door, picked up a broom, and began to sweep the floor. “His uncle sends him out every day, especially when ships come in and the crew rushes toward the pubs. He isn’t to come home until he has stolen what his uncle thinks is enough.”
Kerry swallowed hard. “And he broke the boy’s arm because he didn’t come home with enough? What good does that do? Now he won’t be able to do anything.”
“Life is hard here, Kerry. Money is scarce. Children are often just possessions. Merchandise. Something to be used and bartered with.” She stopped sweeping and gave Kerry a solemn gaze. “It’s not pretty and it’s not fair, but it is life on this island.” She didn’t mention the children who were turned out into the streets to whore for their fathers, and sometimes even their mothers.
• • •
Kerry left the hospital, not quite believing everything the woman had said. After all, Rosalyn had probably told her to put a scare into her, trying to make her realize just how easy she had it. She missed Dorcas. Even though Dorcas had sat her down the night before she sailed to tell her that all would be well, she hadn’t wanted to lose her. She had no one to confide in, no one to share her pain with, and even though adults probably didn’t believe children felt emotional pain, they really did. How was Kerry to cope if she had no one to talk with? Where were the girls her age?
She would find them. She didn’t need any help. She would walk into the village and find someone her own age who could become her friend. And even though she had seen some bad things at the hospital, the children with their bruises, breaks, and ragged clothes, she still wasn’t convinced that she hadn’t seen the worst of it today.
She would do it tomorrow. Who would know? Rosalyn would send her off to the clinic once again, and she would leave the castle and pretend to go in that direction. Or maybe she would actually show up and hang around the clinic for a few hours, then leave. But when she was sure no one was watching she’d hike into the village. Or maybe she’d take a pony. She could ride as well as the boys. It would sure beat hanging around the depressing monster of a fortress as well as having to look at any more sad, sorry children.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The next morning, Rosalyn, who was attempting to keep down a breakfast of boiled egg and oatcake and not having much luck, glanced up as Kerry came into the dining room.
“Good morning, Rosalyn,” Kerry said, smiling at her.
Hmmm. This is a switch, thought Rosalyn. Maybe the time with Fen had done the trick. “Good morning, Kerry. How are you enjoying the days helping Fen?”
Kerry took a seat across from her, unfolded her napkin, and placed it across her lap. Rosalyn studied the girl, recalling how the chaperone had once done that for her, as if she were a child of three or four instead of a young girl on the verge of womanhood.
“It’s interesting,” Kerry answered as one of the kitchen girls placed a bowl of porridge in front of her. “She’s really busy, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is extremely busy since the doctor left the island.”
Kerry poured cream on her porridge and stirred it. “Why did he leave? Shouldn’t there really be a d
octor for all those people?”
“He left because he got a better offer, but God help those he is supposed to heal,” Rosalyn answered.
Kerry dug into her porridge. “What was wrong with him?”
“Well, if you must know, he was a drunken sot. Maybe I shouldn’t speak so of him, but ’tis the truth and we’re all better off without him. Do you know that he told a patient that if he bathed his bald head in dog urine every day, his hair would grow back?”
Kerry laughed and once again Rosalyn saw the beauty she would become.
“That sounds like Wandering Eye.”
“And who is that?”
Kerry put a spoonful of cereal into her mouth, closed her eyes with pleasure, and swallowed. “He’s an old man at home who claimed he could cure everything. Even the medicine men don’t claim to cure everything. But Wandering Eye put together the oddest concoctions. Beetles and rosemary. Skunk spray and wild cherries. Grandfather always said to be nice and patient with him, because he had—you know—that one eye that wandered all over the place. And I felt kind of sorry for him, especially when other kids teased him and made fun of him behind his back.
“One day,” she continued, “I had made a big pot of squirrel stew for supper and Grandfather suggested I take him some. I think he almost cried when he came to the door and saw me with it.”
Suddenly aware of how much she had exposed of herself, she stopped talking and dug into her cereal.
“It was a nice gesture, Kerry.” Rosalyn wanted to take the girl into her arms and hug her, but she didn’t think that would go over very well.
Kerry merely shrugged and finished her cereal. “Well, should I keep on going to the clinic?”
Rosalyn bit off a piece of oatcake and chewed it slowly. “If you don’t mind, I think she’d really appreciate the help. And if she doesn’t need it, you don’t need to stay if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t mind. And Fletcher said I could ride one of your ponies over today. I’m a good rider, really I am.”
“I’m sure you are, Kerry. Make sure Evan gives you a hand with the tack. Have a good day.” Rosalyn watched the girl leave, still surprised at such a quick turnaround in her behavior. It would be so peaceful around here if Kerry had actually changed this quickly, but somehow Rosalyn doubted that was the case. She would have to talk with Fen later today, after Kerry had returned home, to see just how things were going. She hoped she had the time—it seemed like every chore she used to do in minutes was now taking her hours.
The Pleasure of the Rose Page 20
