Muscles bunching and flexing as anger swelled into a controlled rage, William coaxed Black nearer to Lord Fenwick and leaned in close. ‘Are you English so stiff or so unmanly you fail to acknowledge a daughter of your own blood?’
Lord Fenwick’s lip curled. ‘I have no daughter.’
William eased back in his saddle and studied the English lord. ‘Aye, it seems I was mistaken.’ He clutched the hilt of his sword. ‘Lynelle has too much strength, too much courage to have sprung from your weak seed.’
Instead of drawing his sword, as William hoped, the nobleman blustered under his breath as his face mottled with rage.
‘Here is your son’s horse.’ William turned to his men. ‘Donald, Dougal, escort this English scum off my lands.’
Chapter 26
LYNELLE struggled to put one foot in front of the other. Her heart sat like a rock in her chest. It hurt to breathe.
William’s expression, a mixture of shock and accusation, haunted her. She flinched at the memory. What must he think of her now he knew who she was? What she was? Now he knew she’d lied?
Keita continued relaying Leslie’s condition, but Lynelle only caught snippets through the buzzing sound and jumbled thoughts filling her head.
The gossamer thread of hope she’d foolishly clung to regarding her father had snapped and shrivelled to naught when he’d refused to even look at her. Strangely, she’d suffered not a twinge of pain as it broke and it had taken a moment for her to realise she was finally free.
But at what price?
A tortured cry split the air. Lynelle blinked and focused on the door Keita stepped forward to open. The young lass then chose to remain outside.
Heat from the fire splashed Lynelle’s face as she entered Leslie’s cottage. She swallowed past the lump of trepidation in her throat and looked around the stifling room.
Several iron pots of water bubbled in the centre of the flames. Linen strips, along with a sharp knife, herbs for cleansing and the lavender ointment she’d prepared days ago, all sat on a small rickety table nearby.
Elspeth nodded her welcome from beside the pallet where Leslie’s bulging form reclined, and continued mopping the expectant mother’s brow. Another wail of pain bounced off the roof and Leslie’s wide eyes rounded further before clenching shut.
Lynelle shuddered. Why in God’s name had she promised to aid Leslie in childbirth when she’d never even witnessed a babe entering the world?
Her stomach churned and beads of sweat popped out along her forehead. She couldn’t do this. What if something went wrong? What if she made a mistake? What if one of them... ?
‘Bless you...’ Leslie panted. ‘For coming...lass.’ She offered a strained smile.
Pretending to feel confident for Leslie’s sake, Lynelle smiled back. ‘I gave you my word,’ she said and made quick use of the cleansing herbs to wash her hands.
Knowing Elspeth had experienced two births of her own, and had assisted in others, boosted Lynelle’s fragile confidence. The older woman murmured constant words of praise as she bathed Leslie’s damp brow, and regularly peered beneath the sheet draping Leslie’s bent knees to ascertain the babe’s progress.
Lavender scented the hot, confined space as Lynelle rubbed salve onto Leslie’s swollen belly and aching back. Her fingers grew numb as Leslie clutched her offered hand during numerous ongoing contractions.
Elspeth announced it was time, and things proceeded swiftly.
After a last grunting push, Lynelle held a wrinkled, mottled little girl in her hands and a tremulous cry filled the room.
Elspeth held the babe as Lynelle cut and secured the cord with a strip of boiled leather, and then took the precious bundle away to be washed while Lynelle took care of Leslie.
With the bedding changed, the room set to rights and Leslie crooning softly to the miracle in her arms, Elspeth sent Keita to fetch Hearn, the worried first-time father.
The big man’s troubled face brightened as he crossed the threshold, his broad-grin easily seen through his thick, reddish beard.
Lynelle accepted the couple’s words of gratitude and congratulated them again. She left them to their joy and along with Elspeth left the cottage and stepped out into the coming night.
Keita waited outside and told them Ian had dashed to the castle to pass on the good news.
‘Come home with us, Lynelle,’ Elspeth said.
‘Aye,’ Keita said. ‘Supper awaits and there’s plenty to go about.’
Lynelle’s stomach shrivelled at the prospect of food, though she hadn’t eaten all day. ‘Thank you, but no. I have a few things I need to attend to in the healing cottage.’
‘If you change your mind, come and join us,’ Elspeth said with a smile.
Lynelle turned to go and paused. ‘I appreciate your help today, Elspeth. I couldn’t have gotten through it without you.’
‘You would have managed, lass.’
A small smile tilted the corners of Lynelle’s mouth. With a nod, she left mother and daughter and walked through the deepening shadows to the far end of the village.
The familiar scents of tansy and meadowsweet assailed her as she entered the cottage she’d been using during her visits to the village. Lighting a new candle, she held it aloft and gazed about the single room. The smell, the plants and pots all reminded her of the shack she’d lived in at Fenwick.
Sadness welled inside her. Not because she missed where she’d grown up, but because it seemed she’d ended up in the same situation in a different place.
Only she hadn’t fallen in love at Fenwick.
Tears threatened. She willed them away. Despite being exhausted in mind and body, she washed from head to toe with cold water, hesitating as she discovered William’s loving still marking her inner thighs.
The glade, the brook, his touch, his tenderness, the sunbeams tinting his dark hair as he made love to her, making her feel beautiful and special, rushed back.
You should have been honest. You should have told him everything.
Biting her lower lip, she tucked the precious memories away and bathed all trace of him from her skin. How she wished it were so easy to cleanse him from her heart.
Donning the same shift, she made up a pallet on the floor using an old woollen blanket and wondered if William was sleeping in the massive bed they’d shared only last night.
She sat on the makeshift bed, pretending the rough fabric was silk and didn’t cause her skin to itch. Pulling her cloak to her waist, her shoulders sagged. What was she to do? Where could she go? Not back to Fenwick. Not now, not ever.
But could she remain at Closeburn, knowing she’d see William? Would he allow her to stay?
She doubted he would want anything to do with her now he knew who and what she was. An outcast. A murderer. A liar. It would be easy for him to forget her. He’d likely banish her as he had Jinny.
She collapsed back on the bedding, tugging her threadbare cloak to her chin. The tallow candle shrank beneath the flame’s heat, flickered, hissed and finally guttered as one of the village roosters shouted dawn’s arrival.
Spending the full night thinking hadn’t given her the answer as to whether she should remain or move on. But she had made a decision regarding another important matter.
She was tired of wondering what tomorrow would bring. Until recently, she’d wasted her life waiting, believing she would eventually find favour with her father, but no more. Never again would she allow her life to be ruled by the whims of another. She’d never survive the waiting again.
Not even for William.
Tears lay wet on her cheeks when Lynelle finally drifted to sleep.
***
William stalked the length of the dark, narrow landing of the keep’s upper level. He’d gained not an ounce of peace from his reckless afternoon ride. He’d avoided visiting Edan after leaving his wind-blown, sweat-matted mount to the stable hands and had growled at Mary when she’d asked if something was wrong. Even Ian’s news of Leslie a
nd Hearn’s healthy babe had failed to shed any brightness on his black mood.
He couldn’t sit or eat and hadn’t bothered attempting to sleep. Deeming himself unfit company for the pigs lounging about in their muddied pens, he’d prowled the passageway outside the laird’s chamber, his chamber, well into the godforsaken night.
Halting before the iron-studded door, he rested his forehead on the cool timber, reminding himself it was his right to enter the room. He’d spent the last two nights within, but he hadn’t been alone and he feared a new string of memories would rise to haunt him if he dared to step inside. Not only private memories, but ones more pleasurable, more real, because they were shared.
His heart howled in silent grief and he hammered it mute with thoughts of Lynelle’s mistrust. Why couldn’t she have told him about her father? Who had she murdered? She’d said no one had died while in her care. Had she lied about that too? And he’d allowed her to tend to Edan.
A shudder racked him. Thank God Edan had survived.
Would she leave now she’d fulfilled her promise to Leslie? Where would she go? Back to Fenwick, and a father who didn’t have the courage to spare his daughter a glance?
William clenched his jaw and his fingers curled into fists at the thought of John Fenwick. If her mother had died moments after her birth and her sire acted as if she didn’t exist, how had she grown into such a caring, giving, beautiful woman?
Almighty Christ. He still loved her even though she hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him about her life, about herself.
He’d opened his heart and soul, revealed parts of himself he’d never spoken of before. Perhaps he had because he loved her. Perhaps she hadn’t because she didn’t love him.
His chest constricted.
He was a fool, but even fools deserved answers.
Tomorrow he would use any means, any method of persuasion to discover her every secret, and he would hear them from her own sweet lips.
Chapter 27
A sharp knock woke Lynelle.
Keita popped her head inside. ‘I’ve brought you something to break your fast.’
‘Oh,’ Lynelle said as she stretched her stiff limbs and rubbed sleep from her eyes. ‘What time of day is it?’
‘Mid-morn,’ Keita said as she balanced the tray she carried and closed the door. ‘When mother left at dawn, she said not to wake you too early, as you needed your rest.’
‘Your mother is a clever woman,’ she said, sitting up. ‘Where did she go at dawn?’
‘Arthur and Blair returned at first light.’ Lynelle accepted the tray handed down to her. ‘I’ve not seen her since.’
‘I’ll introduce myself to them after I visit the new babe.’ She scooped some egg and a piece of oat bannock onto her spoon and ate, suddenly realizing how hungry she was. ‘This is delicious.’
Keita smiled.
‘Where is Carney?’ Lynelle asked, sinking her teeth into the brown husk of bread.
‘He’s working, or playing rather, in the vegetable garden with Ian.’
‘Ian has been a great help to your family, hasn’t he?’
‘Oh, aye. I’m so glad the laird sent him to us.’ Keita blushed.
At the mention of William, Lynelle lost her appetite.
‘This is lovely, Keita, but I’m afraid there is too much for me to finish.’ She drank the cup of watered wine and rose to her knees.
‘Never fear. The pigs will soon scoff anything you leave.’ She took back the tray. ‘I’ll let you dress and see you later.’
Lynelle expressed her thanks again as Keita left her alone. She pulled the gown she’d removed last night over her head, folded the bedding, plaited her hair and opened the single shutter on the rear wall of the cottage.
As she stared at the sun-warmed grasses and assortment of trees to the west, she wondered how many times Closeburn’s previous healer had admired this view from where she now stood.
Before she’d been banished.
Perhaps Lynelle could search Jinny out in Thornhill and live with her there. She smiled, for it was the first idea she’d had that held any promise. By day’s end, she hoped to come up with many more. She had to.
Leaving her cloak, she stepped outside. Eager to meet the newly returned couple, she waited for any sign of movement from the neighbouring cottage. Nothing. She turned her gaze to the rest of the clearing and the dozen or so generously spaced thatched homes that made it a village.
She liked it here. The very air had a welcoming freshness and the people were helpful and friendly. But she had to leave. She had no choice. She couldn’t risk staying, knowing she’d see William again.
Tomorrow.
If all were well with the new babe, she’d ask Ian to fetch her meagre belongings from the castle and be on her way at dawn.
As she walked to Leslie’s home, a fluttering sadness filled her chest. She’d have to pass on farewell messages to Edan and Mary and all the others who had brightened her existence and given her confidence.
She tapped on the door and stepped inside at the call. Leslie and Hearn lay on their sides, stretched out on the pallet. Their tiny girl slumbered peacefully between them, oblivious to the awe-struck smiles raining down on her.
After being assured their babe was perfect, Lynelle left them to continue gazing adoringly at their bairn and headed back to her cottage.
She’d almost reached her door when Elspeth darted out of the nearby cottage and hurried toward her.
‘Stop.’
Lynelle halted in her tracks at the abrupt command and frowned at the older woman’s pale, drawn expression.
‘What is it, Elspeth? Are you ill?’ She wanted to go to her, but Elspeth held up her hand and seemed to be struggling to catch her breath.
‘‘Tis Arthur,’ Elspeth said, pressing her hand to her middle, wiping her palm down the front of her gown over and over.
‘Is he sick?’ Lynelle spoke calmly, though the food she’d eaten started to roil in her stomach. The woman who’d remained steadfastly composed throughout Leslie’s birth nodded. ‘Then I will see him and – ‘
‘Nae.’
Lynelle flinched at the fierce denial.
‘You don’t understand,’ Elspeth said. ‘There is naught to be done.’
‘At least let me – ‘
‘Where are Keita and Carney?’ Elspeth looked about the clearing, her eyes wild.
‘In the vegetable garden with Ian.’
Elspeth stopped her agitated search and nodded continuously. ‘Good. Good.’
‘Please Elspeth, tell me what’s wrong. You’re frightening me.’
Elspeth stilled and gazed at her. ‘Oh, lass. I’m frightened too.’ Her voice wavered and fear shone in her troubled eyes.
Lynelle stepped forward. Elspeth retreated.
‘Don’t come near me, Lynelle.’ Renewed strength hardened her tone.
‘Why? If Arthur is ill, why can’t I – ?’
‘Because I may be sick, too.’
Lynelle stiffened. Elspeth didn’t look ill, despite her ashen pallor. Frightened, yes. Agitated, for certain. But what made her think she might be sick?
‘I want to help, Elspeth, but I can’t if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.’
Elspeth’s expression softened and her usual composure suddenly returned. ‘You’re such a good, lass.’ A strained smile touched her lips. ‘But I fear your skills won’t be enough this time.’
Puzzled, she said, ‘At least let me try.’
‘I believe Arthur has the Black Death.’
The world tilted. Lynelle sucked in a deep breath as her mind swam with recollections of what Ada had told her.
Ada had been a child when the pestilence swept into northern England. She’d survived, as had most of those tightly secured inside Fenwick’s walls, but hundreds had died. Thousands.
Driving fisted hands into her stomach, she willed the gorge rising in her throat back down. What use was she to anyone if merely hearing the words made her pani
c? She needed to think. What should she do?
Leave. Now. What difference did a single day make?
She stared at Elspeth and tears of anger at her cowardly thought, prickled behind her eyes.
No! She would not run away in fear.
‘I’m sorry I’ve upset you,’ Elspeth said quietly.
Lynelle’s eyes burned hotter. ‘You...surprised me.’
Elspeth nodded. ‘I was shocked too, but I feel a tad easier now I’ve spoken of it to someone.’
‘Are you certain?’ Lynelle couldn’t suppress the note of hope in her voice.
‘Blair says Arthur started feeling unwell three days ago. She urged him to rest, but he refused. The fever came two days past and though she begged him to stop, he wouldn’t. He kept telling her he wanted to be home.’ Elspeth drew a ragged breath. ‘They travelled through the night and he collapsed on the bed the moment he walked through the door.’
‘In my haste to welcome them home,’ she continued, a tinge of bitterness edging her tone, ‘I comforted Blair and helped her restrain Arthur when he started thrashing about. We removed his shirt to bathe the heat from his body and...and that’s when I noticed the dark swelling under his arm.’
Lynelle stiffened, all hope of Elspeth being wrong banished by what she described.
‘Does Blair know? Does she understand?’
‘Nae,’ Elspeth said. ‘She is too distraught and weary.’
Lynelle’s mind raced. ‘We must inform the others. Certain measures need to be taken.’
They stood perhaps ten feet apart, but the distance suddenly seemed far greater. Sorrow crept back into the older woman’s eyes.
‘I know. I’ll leave it to you.’ Elspeth started to turn away and then swung back around. ‘Tell Keita and Carney...’ Her gaze dropped to the ground. ‘Ask Ian to watch over them.’
Lynelle bit her lip as Elspeth headed back to Arthur and Blair’s home. ‘I’ll see you in a little while,’ she said, but Elspeth gave no sign she’d heard.
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