Finn nodded his approval while Jamesy shrugged.
“And what will we do should we come across the one who locked yer fair guest in the arbor?” Jamesy asked.
Of all the outcomes Alex might hope for, that was at the top of his list.
“Perhaps we take him out to the arbor where he abandoned the lass, just the three of us and him, and teach the bastard what it’s like to be overpowered.”
Just the thought brought a smile of satisfaction to his lips.
“Agreed,” his friends said in unison.
“I’d recommend the time has come to put guards on the wall, as well,” Finn said. “To keep watch after the rider goes out.”
Alex nodded his agreement. “It’s settled, then.”
All except what to do with their lovely guest until they could find proof of the truth about where she’d come from and why she was here.
No doubt about it, finding Analise Shaw imprisoned on their lands had changed the stakes in their rivalry with Clan Gordon.
Chapter 7
With one of his best men on his way bearing a message to the laird of Clan Gordon, Alex ordered the portcullis lowered before heading back to the keep. Crossing the bailey, Jamesy and Finn caught up with him and, for a few brief moments, a sense of peace and calm settled over him as they approached the keep.
Brief, because he knew the time had come to confront a worry hanging heavy on his heart for the past weeks since his return to Castle Dunellen. The time had come for him to confront their future together.
“I’ve a need to speak to the both of you. I’ve considered how best to tell you what I must, and I’ve found no good way other than to speak the words.” He’d broached it now. With both his friends waiting for him to continue, there was no way to avoid the subject any longer. “It’s clear to me now that I’ll not be able to leave Dunellen anytime soon. We had big plans for where we were to go and what we were to do together. My inability to carry on shouldn’t change yer lives. I’d only ask that you give a consideration to lending a hand here until the current troubles are contained. But I want you both to know, no matter which way you decide, I’ll understand and I’ll no’ hold it against you.”
There. He’d said his piece and it was done. Whatever Jamesy and Finn chose to do now, he, at least, wouldn’t have to feel guilt over holding them up nor dread over the possibility of risking their friendship.
Finn reached down to absently stroke the head of his big dog, a half-smile lifting one corner of his mouth. “I only thought to fight the English to protect Scotland and her people. The people here seem to need protecting as much as any others I’ve come across. The enemy may be different, but one battle is no different from any other. I’m content to fight at yer side and empty yer larder until you’ve no more need of me and wish to send me on my way.”
“I feel exactly the same way,” said Jamesy. “At least here I fight shoulder to shoulder with friends I can trust at my back.”
“You have my thanks,” Alex said, his heart feeling lighter than it had in days. He hadn’t realized how much he’d stressed over what their decisions might be until he heard their answers. It was good to have men at his side he could trust.
He might even have allowed himself to think that his streak of troubles was fading, if not for the sounds of raised voices as they entered the keep. Through the open doors of the great hall, the sounds of a pitched argument reached his ears.
Perhaps not an argument, he decided as he hurried forward, since it was clear as he drew closer that there was only one voice raised in anger.
In the great hall, Alex’s brother Morgan hovered over the man he’d brought to the castle to heal their father, obviously doing his best to appease the healer.
“Please, Master Montague, pray calm yerself and take yer seat.” Morgan looked up at Alex’s entrance, and an expression of sheer relief passed over his face. “Here’s Alex now. I’m sure he can sort out all of this to yer satisfaction.”
“No!” Montague insisted, jerking his shoulder from Morgan’s gentle grip and pointing a finger across the table in a dramatic gesture. “I insist that you send her away. I will not take my meal with that woman in the room.”
Alex hadn’t formed a particularly positive impression of Montague on any of their brief meetings. And now, as he followed the direction of the man’s accusation, he realized that the she in question was their new guest, Annie. For her part, Annie completely ignored Montague, lifting her cup to her lips to drink as if he weren’t carrying-on like a madman within feet of where she sat. Only the glare she briefly cast in his direction gave any indication that she even acknowledged his presence in the room.
“What’s going on here?” Alex asked, aware that all eyes, all except Annie’s, that is, were turned in his direction, waiting for him to take charge.
“That woman attacked me,” Montague accused. “I canna be expected to break bread at the same table with the likes of her.”
“Attacked you,” Alex said, making his way to his own chair and sitting down. “Let me make sure I understand what it is yer saying, Master Montague. Yer telling me that this mere woman, barely out of a sickbed her own self, physically overpowered you and now you want her sent from my table so that you might take yer meal in peace. Do I have the right of it?”
“Aye,” Montague said, though his tone seemed less sure now, as if he had an inkling of where Alex’s conversation might be headed.
“You’d have her sent away because…why exactly is that, Master Montague? Do you fear she’ll attack you here at my table?” Alex turned his hardest glare on the man, waiting as the object of his scrutiny began to show signs of discomfort. “I’m sure Morgan will act as your defender, will you no’, brother? Do take yer seat, Montague, or you’ll do without yer meal this night. The woman you accuse is a guest at my table, as much as you, yerself. And, for what it’s worth, I very much doubt the good lady intentionally attacked you.”
“You probably shouldn’t be so quick to discount what he tells you,” Annie said. “I did attack him. I freely admit to it. And, under the same circumstance, I’d do it again, given half a chance.”
Alex could feel the muscles in the back of his neck tighten as Montague jumped up from his seat, again demanding loudly that Annie be ejected from the hall.
“Sit down!” Alex roared, seemingly surprising the man enough that he returned meekly to his chair. Alex then turned his glare on Annie, only to find her glaring back at him. “And why, pray tell, would you attack Master Montague?”
“It’s not her fault,” Lissa piped in. “We entered Da’s chamber with his lunch just as Master Montague wielded his knife to begin Da’s daily bleeding. She mistook him for—”
“Daily?” Annie interrupted, her cheeks mottled red with her anger. “You people let him do that to your father every freakin’ day?”
“Sometimes more often, if needed,” Montague inserted.
Annie made a gurgling sound, very much like a woman drowning. “What is wrong with you people? Can’t you see how pale your father is? Don’t you understand that the last thing he needs is to lose more blood?”
Montague sat up straight, lifting his chin. “Not that a mere woman like you could possibly understand the knowledge behind my methods, but the auld laird is pale because his humors are out of balance. By removing the bad blood—”
“There is no such thing as bad blood, you idiot,” Annie stormed. “And humors are just something made up by charlatans like you to cover for the things you don’t know how to heal. You’re nothing more than a butcher, bleeding that old man dry like some vampire.”
“Barber,” Aiden corrected, speaking up for the first time. “No’ a butcher. Master Montague is a highly respected barber, skilled at the craft of bloodletting. It was his reputation that led me to bring him to Dunellen in the first place.”
“Barber?” Annie repeated, disbelief shining in her eyes. “You’re telling me that he’s only a man who cuts hair for a living, and
pretty badly at that, from what I’m seeing around here? This is what you turn your own father’s care over to? A barber. A hair cutter. Oh, and wait, let me guess…that bread goo we brought up to you on the tray? Is that all you’re feeding him? Nothing to help build his blood back up? No protein at all? No iron? Just wet bread?”
Montague appeared as perplexed by what Annie said as Alex felt at hearing her argument, but the barber answered after a long pause. “Bread soaked in wine,” he said. “Three times a day. This is the standard meal for those I treat under similar circumstances.”
“Oh, it is, is it? Standard meal?” Leaning forward, Annie slammed her cup down on the table, sloshing liquid over the sides. “And just how many of those people you treat actually survive your so-called treatment? That man upstairs needs some decent nutrients in his diet if he’s to have any hope of building back his strength after what you’ve done to him. He also needs to keep all his blood in his body where it freakin’ belongs. No wonder he was so happy with me when I knocked you on your butt.”
“That is a lie!” Montague insisted.
“There is no way you could know how Da felt,” Aiden added. “Our father hasn’t opened his eyes or responded to any of us for weeks now.”
“I’m not surprised he isn’t responding to any of you. Because you’re letting this butcher kill him,” Annie said. “Duh. But when I was in that room, he did open his eyes and he squeezed my hand. Maybe you people don’t care what this man is doing to your father, but I do. And I’m not going to let you continue to torture him, slicing him open and draining out his blood. All you’re doing is slowly killing him with the way you’re letting this piss-poor excuse for a doctor treat him.”
“She speaks the truth,” Lissa confirmed quietly, her eyes fixed on the food in front of her.
“You saw this with yer own eyes?” Alex asked, watching his sister closely as he waited for her answer.
“I was right there in the room with her,” Lissa said. “How could I no’?”
It didn’t take being her twin for Alex to know his sister wasn’t telling the whole truth. But the fact that she would cover for Annie told him almost as much as if she had been completely honest.
Alex was no better pleased with Montague’s treatment of his father than Annie. But he’d allowed it. He’d turned a blind eye and hoped for the best. To have this woman, this stranger, come into their home and stand up for his father as none of his family here had been willing to do humbled him. It was something he should have done himself, long before now.
As he listened to Montague’s denials and counter-accusations, a new plan took root in the back of his mind. One that would solve the problem of his guilt over his father’s care as well as what he was to do with Analise Shaw for the time being. All he needed now was the right opportunity to bring his idea to life.
“Lies,” Master Montague exclaimed. “The auld laird has not stirred for days, though I continue to do everything within my power to hasten his recovery.”
“Bull hockey,” Annie snorted. “Considering all you’ve done to that old man, I’m amazed he had the strength to open his eyes and say anything to me. But he did. And one thing I know for a fact is that he doesn’t want you cutting him open anymore. And the other thing I know is that you’re going to have to get past me to try it again.”
“More filthy lies,” the barber said, his voice rising. “This woman is a liar who has chosen to besmirch my reputation.”
“I am not,” Annie said, leaning forward once more, this time to point an accusing finger in Montague’s direction. “But even if I were, I’d much rather be a liar than a murderer like you are.”
“Enough!” Master Montague surged to his feet, sending his chair toppling over backward to crash loudly against the stone floor. “I’ll not sit here to be insulted in this manner. The woman is clearly brainsick. I insist you send her away at once. Away from the table and away from the keep.”
The barber’s words rang out in a room filled with an undercurrent of muted conversations. The situation had gone on for far too long.
“No,” Alex said, annoyance bubbling up in his chest. “I would remind you once again, Master Montague, that Mistress Shaw is as much a guest at Castle Dunellen as you yerself are.”
Across from him, the barber fumed, obviously wrestling with his next action. A smile lifted his lips as he appeared to have made up his mind.
“In that case, my good laird, you have a choice to make.” Montague crossed his arms in front of him, his smile growing, displaying the confidence he had in what he was about to do. “I am a man of reputation and skill, whose services are sought far and wide. I will not be treated in this disgraceful manner. Not by a madwoman, not by anyone. Either she goes or I go. The decision is yers.”
Alex shoved down an irrational desire to bury his fist in the barber’s face as he pushed back his own chair to stand. He should be thanking the man instead of visualizing ways to remove the snide smile the barber wore. After all, thanks to Montague’s ultimatum, the opportunity he had wished for was waiting for him as if presented on a platter.
A hush fell over the room as Alex raised one hand, waiting to speak until all eyes in the great hall turned in his direction.
“Then my choice is an easy one, Master Montague,” he said at last. “When you’ve finished yer meal, yer to pack yer belongings and take yer leave of Castle Dunellen. Yer services are no longer required. From this point forward, Mistress Shaw will be caring for my father.”
“What?” Montague yelled. “You canna do this. I set aside all my work and regular patients to come here.”
“And now you can pick it all up again when you return to wherever you came from,” Alex said. “It was you who insisted that I choose, and so I have. I have spoken my choice to all present, and my word is final. There will be no further discussion on the matter. From this point forward, Mistress Shaw will see to my father’s care.”
* * *
Annie nearly choked on the bite she’d just taken, and had to force herself to swallow. She was to care for the old man? That wasn’t at all what she’d wanted. She’d just been trying to get them to recognize that someone needed to step up and stop what was happening to him.
“I’m no doctor,” she said. “I’m not even qualified to work the front desk in a doctor’s office.”
Beside her, Lissa laid down the bread in her hand and turned to meet Annie’s eyes. “And yet you kenned enough to speak up about what was being done was wrong, aye? You’ll be fine. I’ll bring Aggie to help you. She’s been healing all of us since before my Da was born. I have faith in you, Annie Shaw. Faith in the wonders you have learned in yer own time. This must be the reason why the Fae sent you to us now. To save our father.”
Annie couldn’t be responsible for the health of Lissa’s father. She needed to go home. Not to mention, the idea of having the old man’s life in her hands was more intimidating than anything she’d ever encountered.
Still, she’d provoked this with her insistence that the person in charge of caring for him was incompetent. She’d been right in doing that, she had no doubt. Anything she knew about the most basic medicine in the world had to be more than that barber knew. Any care she gave him had to be better than allowing him to be bled dry and starved to death.
She would do it. At least until she could find a way to go home, she would. Even a few days of proper nutrition and not having his blood drawn should allow him to show some improvement.
“Okay, then,” she said. “If I’m doing this, our first step should be to start with his diet.”
She needed to find foods that he could have that would begin to build his strength. Foods suitable for a man in his weakened condition, but nutritious enough to help him heal.
“I’m sure Cook will be more than happy to prepare anything you ask of her,” Lissa assured. “I’ll take you to her as soon as we finish here.”
“I’ll also want a full accounting of what happened to him that led him
to this condition.” She needed to understand as much as she could about what she was fighting against if she was to have any hope of actually helping the old man.
“And so you shall have it,” Alex said. “Whatever you need to care for my father, you’ve but to ask and I will see that it is given to you.”
“And what of the silver Morgan has already given to the barber?” the young man sitting next to Morgan asked, his eyes fixed on the door Montague had stormed through only seconds earlier.
“The water has dried on that account, Aiden,” Alex answered, shaking his head. “Now we have but to cut our losses and pray that father improves under the care of our newest guest and kinswoman.”
Any thought of planning the auld laird’s care evaporated when Annie heard the name Alex used.
“You’re Aiden?” She fixed her gaze on the man across the table and waited for his confirming nod before she spoke again, not quite sure how to approach what she really wanted to know. “Have you ever…”
Her words trailed off as she tried to come up with something other than to ask if he was Ellen Shaw’s lover. He was so young, barely out of his teens. It felt beyond foolish to assume that he could be the same Aiden who had stolen her grandmother’s heart.
“Have I ever what?” Aiden asked, his irritation clear. “Have you some reason now to drive me from the table as you’ve driven away our barber?”
Direct, it would have to be.
“Have you ever met a woman named Ellen? A woman who might have been particularly, I don’t know…special to you?”
“I know of no one named Ellen,” Aiden said, lifting his tankard to his mouth.
“Unless she means Grandda’s Ellen,” the young man sitting next to him offered.
“Doona be ridiculous, Cullen,” Aiden said. “It’s no’ likely Mistress Shaw has heard the likes of our grandda’s preposterous stories.”
“No?” Lissa asked, a smile playing on her lips. “Perhaps not Grandda’s version, but Ellen’s maybe?”
All The Time You Need Page 9
