Highland Healer

by Florence Love Karsner

  "Oh, no, sir, but there was some activity yesterday, I believe it was. You see, there was some folk there early in the morning. The farm hands seen them, but then they was gone before nightfall."

  "Who were these folk?"

  "Oh, well, I don't know for sure, but I heard it was the Lady Millicent, ye ken, the granddaughter of the old mistress. But, if it was her, then why would she leave?"

  "Yes, that does seem strange," replied the gentleman.

  "You say she wasn't alone, huh?"

  "Oh, no, sir, they was some others, but that's about all I know."

  Watching from the kitchen, Ethel observed Miriam, the serving girl, engaging in some lengthy discussion with the gentleman.

  "That girl needs to talk less and work more!" she said as she came out into the dining area, retying her apron strings. Ethel had come up behind the girl and heard some of the tale she as telling the gentleman.

  "Miriam, get on about yer duties. Let this gentleman be on his way. Yer detaining him with such wild talk. Git on with ye now!" and she pushed the girl towards the kitchen.

  The gentleman finished his breakfast, leaving some coins for the serving lass. Then he put his coat back on and went out the door, looking about for the stable boy.

  Ethel watched as the gentleman shrugged into his coat, which was very fine she noticed. Then, seeing the coins he had left for the serving lass, watched him leave.

  Warwick walked back to the livery, mounted up, and handed some coins to the boy, who grinned his appreciation. He went toward the path that was most used by everyone, kicking his horse mercilessly. Back at the inn, Ethel wondered who the man was, and what was he doing in their village?

  Going back to the kitchen, she approached Miriam as she was putting away a stack of clean dishes in the cupboard.

  "Did he say what his name was, girl?"

  "No, Miss Ethel, he never did."

  "Mind you, Miriam, no more discussing the Camerons to anyone else, especially someone not from around here. There's much we don't know about that sad morning."

  "Aye, Miss Ethel." Miriam scampered out of Ethel's way, glad the old cook hadn't swatted her about the ears as she sometimes threatened to do. Of course, she had never actually seen her do such a thing, but still, she didn't wish to be the first.

  * * *

  So, thought Warwick. His lovely wife had been here but had already left. Who was with her? He could have gotten more information from that serving girl if the nosy old cook hadn't interfered. He had found out enough to know Millie was somewhere close, and he would surely catch up with her now.

  It was no problem finding out where the estate was. It seemed everyone knew the family, and some of them apparently knew Millie as well. He didn't realize she had spent so much time here in her youth. That didn't change his plans for her, however, and he would make sure she didn't come back here again. He would take over the estate and find someone who would work it and ensure he got a healthy amount of funds coming from it.

  When he got to the top of the hill, looking across the moor, the castle was an imposing building to be sure. He had known it was an estate, but he had no idea it was so grand. The castle was very large, and built probably a hundred years before. It was constructed in the Tower House design, which was more popular in the last century. A Tower House castle was a vertical design, not so much used for defensive purposes as earlier designs had been. There was a moat as Millie had mentioned, and a gatehouse stood almost as tall as the castle itself. A narrow path took you over to another building, connected to the castle by a covered walkway. This would have been the chapel early on, but probably had not been used as such in some time. Sinclair had not exaggerated for once, it seemed. Maybe he was hoping to keep it for himself as long as he could. But, Warwick was pleased this holding was about to be his and it would go a long way to creating a special place for him with the nobles. It was a shame it was located in Scotland. Had it been in England, he would have made it his permanent home.

  As he walked up the cobblestone walkway to the front entrance, it was easy to see the place was deserted. There were no sounds anywhere. No birds, no dogs, none of the usual sounds that you might expect to hear around any home. But, that actually made it easier for him. He just walked up the steep, curving steps to the front of the castle, went through the enormous, unlocked doors and began walking about, looking through each and every rom.

  So, this was what a true gentleman's home looked like. Unlike his castle, which was rather bare with some ancient weapons and suits of armor about, this one was filled with fine pieces of furniture, large chests, breakfronts, hand-woven rugs, and pine tables that were polished with lemon oil and shone in the morning sun. And, even though it had been deserted for several weeks now, there was still the scent of dried roses in the air, a feminine scent that was missing from his castle. Of course, he had never allowed Millie to put her signature on anything, and he kept her in the upper rooms as much as possible. Or maybe, she just preferred to be up there away from him. He knew Millie was as unhappy with him as he was with her. But, she had served a purpose, and now this place was his. What was to happen to her now? He wasn't sure just yet. But he would come up with something.

  CHAPTER 57

  Making his evening trek about the moor, old Clint once again saw activity at the castle.

  "Now, who could that be?" He was certainly not expecting more visitors to come so soon.

  Lady Millicent had left earlier that morning with the Highlander, the healer, and the baby. Then, he and Winston had taken Dorothea back home with admonishment to keep every door locked and not to open them to anyone she didn't know. The two men had decided they would keep an even sharper eye out now they had reason to believe Lady Millie's husband, Lord Warwick, may be responsible for the deaths of their mistresses. Clint and Winston were no spring chickens, but both could still brandish a firearm with some accuracy, and they were both of a mind to shoot first and ask questions later.

  So, when he saw a lone rider coming up the path, Clint immediately got on his old mare and took off down to the rear of the stables. Whoever it was probably didn't belong here, and Clint was tired of strangers just taking up in this place, a place he had been taking care of for most of his life. He wasn't an owner, but he had taken pride in being a part of the Cameron "family."

  Clint got to the rear of the stables and tied his mare. He watched the man go into the castle through the front entrance, and thought it would be a better idea for him to enter through the cellar entrance, going up the stairs and coming out into the kitchen. That way he may be able to take the man by surprise and be in a position to stop him from stealing or destroying any of the Cameron belongings. With most folk around knowing about the castle being deserted, there could be many looking to take anything they could get their hands on.

  As Clint was quietly coming up the stairs from the cellar, Warwick stopped at the top of the stairs leading down from the upstairs bedrooms. He thought he had heard a noise from below and went down to investigate. He saw nothing, but continued to walk softly through the great hall toward the kitchen. Just as he entered the kitchen, Clint opened the door from the cellar. It was difficult to say who was the most surprised, the lord or the farmhand. But both men were startled when they saw each other. Clint reached behind his back to pull out his pistol, but Warwick, being considerably younger, had already crossed the room and, with the butt of his pistol, struck Clint a direct blow to the temple. The blow would have been devastating for a young man, but especially so for a bloke as old as Clint. He immediately fell to the floor and lay there unmoving.

  "You old fool! Now what am I going to do with you?"

  Irritated beyond reason, Warwick thought briefly, then decided he would just leave the old man here, in the castle. No telling how long before anyone would find him, and he would be long gone before then. It was getting to be dusk, so the old man never really had a good look at his face, and Warwick didn't think he would be able to identify him. He hoped
the old man survived as it would be better not to have another dead body, he thought, and left quickly, leaving the door ajar behind him.

  * * *

  "So, she's not traveling alone, then," Warwick spoke to himself again. So who was with her? And just where would they be going? No doubt Millie had figured out his role and was trying to hide from him. He pulled on the reins and tried to decide which way to go. She wouldn't be going back south, certainly not back to Warwick Castle, but she wouldn't go back to her father's place either. Warwick wasn't sure which man she loathed the most. So, where else would she be headed?

  Suddenly, he threw his head back and burst out in laughter! In that instant, he knew exactly where she would be headed.

  "Of course! You'll be looking for the busybody old nursemaid! Ha!"

  What was her name? He thought another moment. Dorothy. No. Dorothea? Yes, that was her name. He recalled he had sent her back to Scotland just as soon as he had taken Millie to his castle. That old nursemaid was forever coddling Millie, and he had acted quickly to send her back where she belonged, where Millie couldn't go to her with every complaint she had about him.

  So, finding Dorothea was his next task, and one that wouldn't take too long. He just needed to find that talkative serving girl who worked at the Mermaid Harbor Inn and throw a few more coins in her direction. She was a local lass and would know where the nursemaid lived.

  CHAPTER 58

  After not finding Warwick on the trail, Alex felt that the lord must be ahead of him already. But he had traveled the path to his home all his life and knew exactly where he would find Jack and the women. He just hoped Warwick didn't find them before he did. Alex believed Warwick was responsible for the deaths of the Cameron women. He may not have killed them personally, but apparently the fiend had no scruples about hiring it done. Alex wouldn't bet anything on trying to figure this man's actions.

  * * *

  It was well past dusk now, and Alex could see the Cameron place just up ahead. Having a warmer place for his horse and himself for the evening would be good. Maybe Clint or Winston would have news of Warwick. It was worth stopping a moment to check.

  He walked across the bailey and knocked at the rear door. No answer. Going around to the front of the castle, he climbed the steps and saw that the door was slightly open. He rapped the large brass knocker several times, hoping the open door meant maybe Clint or another worker was here. But, getting no response, he turned and started back down. Just then, he heard a voice calling but he couldn't understand the words. So, he quickly went back up the steps and called out.

  "Hello. Anyone here?"

  "I'm here! Help me!"

  The voice was very soft, almost like a woman's voice thought Alex. He entered the room and looked about. He half expected to find a girl or woman. But as he crossed the great hall and entered the kitchen, he stopped, abruptly, as he came upon an old man lying on the floor. The old gentleman was bleeding from his head, and a good amount of dried blood was on the floor.

  "Hey, easy now, old fella," said Alex, bending down to see what condition the old man was in. He immediately saw the man was in trouble.

  "Can ye talk to me, tell me what's happened to ye?"

  "Aye, I be able to talk all right. I just be having one helluva headache though. But, me brain still seems ta be working. As much as it ever did, I reckon."

  Alex smiled. The old ones always made light of their ailments, no matter how serious the problem may be.

  "Then, let's see if we can sit ye up here, then, my man." Alex was beginning to hope that maybe the injury wasn't as bad as he had thought, but there was a good amount of blood on the floor. And, the man's voice was very scratchy, but you might expect that from an oldster such as this one.

  "Just sit there a minute. Let's try to see exactly where ye hurt."

  Alex wished Caitlin would appear out of the blue as she would know just what to do and be finished with it before he, Alex, could even decipher where to start. But, she wasn't, so it was up to him to help this old man .

  "Looks like ye've been knocked about the head, and a good wallop it was."

  "Yep, he was on me 'afore I could even get me pistol out! I didn't see him 'til the last minute and he hit me right hard, I do believe."

  Alex had a moment of concern.

  "Do ye think he might still be about the place?"

  "Nae. I reckon he took off, but I could be wrong, too."

  Alex took a quick turn about the great hall and the kitchen, looking down into the cellar, but saw no one.

  "I believe he's gone now. There's no sign of anyone."

  Alex grabbed a cloth from the kitchen and began to clean up the man's head, enough to see there was a giant goose egg on his temple, blood having dried all along his hairline. The entire side of his face was swollen, and his eye was just beginning to close slightly. It was quite a sight, and painful, surely. But there were no other wounds he could see, and the old one did seem to have his wits about himself.

  Alex finished cleaning the wound and was about to ask the old man where he lived so he could take him there, when he felt his sleeve being pulled on. The old one was trying to pull Alex's face down closer so he could get a better look at him.

  "But I know ye, young man. Yep. I do. Ye be the one who was here with yer brother, that big fellow with the red hair. Ye two be them that bought the sheep from Mistress Moira, just a few year back."

  The old farm hand was beginning to get agitated, thought Alex, and he tried to calm him down.

  "Easy now. Ye be right. And yes I did buy some sheep from the Cameron family and I did come down with Jack, my brother, to herd them back up to our place. Ah, ye must have been one of the hands who helped us round them up."

  Clint was trying to get up and was becoming even more riled by the minute. Alex had to hold him down as he was trying his best to stand up.

  "It's all right, just sit back down again, now, and we'll get ye up shortly." Alex was afraid that too much movement would start the bleeding again, and he didn't want to have to deal with that.

  "But I thought yer brother was headed to the upper regions, to yer own place. And he was taking Lady Millie and her babe, and that other woman with the wolf."

  "That's right, Clint. We decided to let Jack take the ladies. The old man and I thought it would be better for us to try to find Warwick. I've had about enough of everybody running from that idiot."

  "So, yer brother is trying to get the women back home so they'll be safe, right?" asked Clint.

  "That's right. Jack will look out for those two ladies. And that babe couldn't be in better hands. Jack particularly likes bairns, ye ken."

  "Aye. That was easy to see, even for an old one like meself. He seemed right fond of our Lady Millie and that babe. Fact is, I was jest wondering if maybe he was the Da?"

  Alex blanched!

  "Oh, no! Not Jack! He's never been close enough to any woman for anything like that to happen!" Alex was shaking his head. What was he to make of this latest information?

  "Huh, well. I agree with ye about getting the women to safety. They could be in a might of danger down here. Jest look at what happened to me!"

  "So, back to ye, have ye any idea who it was that hit ye?"

  "Well, 'course I can't be sure. But I suspect it may have been that Lord Warwick hisself, 'cause the man be wearing some awful fine clothes, ye ken. He had on a fur hat of some kind and this long greatcoat and the finest boots I ever did see! So, it was somebody that were used to the best, ye see."

  "Warwick, ye say. Well, then let's get ye back home old timer, if ye think ye can ride, that is."

  "Oh, aye, I'll be all right I will."

  "May be. But I'll go along with ye just to be sure."

  "Then let's git on about it. It be getting pretty dark out, and Ethel will be wondering where I am."

  Ethel, the cook, had her own crofter's cottage as did Clint, but most evenings they could be found sitting together by the fire, Clint enjoying Ethel's
delicious cooking. So, he knew she would be waiting for him tonight.

  Going over the moor, they were at Clint's hut shortly. Alex dismounted and made sure the old man got off without falling. Going up to the cottage door, Alex found himself envious of this old man, going home to someone who cared for him and who gave reason to make another day. What a fortunate man this crofter was, and apparently, he knew it. Ethel met them at the door.

  "Oh my heavens! What have you done now, ye old wooly goat!" She was pulling Clint in and forcing him to sit down, making over him as if he were a child.

  "Oh, Ethel, I'm fine, just a bit of a scratch, and this young fella done cleaned me up. Now stop your frettin!"

  After listening to Clint's explanation for his goose egg, Ethel began a tale of her own.

  "Oh, he was mighty finely dressed, I give him that. And Miriam, that serving girl at the Inn, she went on and on about the goings on at the Cameron place 'til I went in and sent her to the kitchen. Somehow I knew that visitor weren't one to be trusted; it was written all over him. From your description, what with the greatcoat and the boots, it was him for certain!"

  Alex spoke then.

  "Well, believe it or not, I, too, have had dealings with someone I believe to be this same man. We met out on the path a couple of nights ago. It was beginning to snow pretty heavily, and I tried to find some shelter. But, out there that night, there was nothing, so I just tied my horse to the trees and made myself a fire to help keep me from freezing. Not long after I had settled down for the night, I heard a coach coming down the path, so I hid in the trees and had my pistol ready for whatever may come.

  "This man was dressed just as you describe. Greatcoat, fine boots and hat. But the most noticeable thing about him, other than his clothes, was the fact that he was well into his brew. He offered me a taste, but I know not to mix alcohol and cold, so I thanked him, but didn't drink with him. It seemed he took offense and decided he would move on. According to him, his wife had family in the Black Isle, and he was headed there to be with her as she was due to have a child any day now. In his drunken state he said their name was "Cameroom," but no doubt he was trying to say "Cameron." So, he must have figured out where the keep was and happened to be just a bit too late to catch up with Lady Millicent."