Forgiving Hearts: Duncurra 1-3

by Ceci Giltenan

  “All right, if ye promise,” she said with a shy smile.

  They waded back out of the marsh, but she continued to talk about the plants they passed and their uses. This completely enthralled Niall. In the last few weeks he had seen several sides of his bride. There was the quiet, submissive maid he first met at Cotharach, who kept a firm check on her emotions but who, when pushed too hard, could unleash her anger with a vengeance. There was also the strong and compassionate lady of the castle, whom so many of his clansmen and women already respected and loved, as well as the gentle mother who cared very deeply for Tomas. Of course, one of his favorite sides was the uninhibited lover whose passion never failed to delight him. However, the woman he walked with now brimmed with knowledge, and had a confidence and self-assurance he had never seen in any woman. She impressed him and he felt oddly proud of her.

  After their brief stop at the marsh, they rode east and entered the forest, where they soon arrived at a beautiful glade. His guard positioned themselves in the forest around the glade, again at a discreet distance, leaving Niall and Katherine quite alone. He spread a plaid on the ground before producing a packet of food and a wineskin from the bag on his saddle. They chatted as they ate.

  “I am having a wonderful time,” she said.

  “So am I,” he answered with a smile.

  “I was just wondering...”

  “Mmm?”

  “Well, with so much to do, why did you decide to waste the day with me?”

  He chuckled. “That is one of the reasons right there.”

  “What?” she asked, confused.

  “A day spent with ye is not wasted, sweetling.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean—I—”

  He put his finger to her lips. “I know what ye meant even if ye don’t,” he said gently. “I realized last night ye don’t recognize your own value. On the day we married, ye said your uncle cared less for ye than he did his saddle.”

  She blushed and looked away. “I’m sorry, I was—upset.”

  “I know, and ye had every right to be. But even after hearing ye say that and knowing how cruel your uncle was, I still thought of ye as a noblewoman. As the head of your clan, I assumed ye would have been treated that way. Last night I learned, at least where ye are concerned, my assumptions are frequently wrong.

  “Katherine, ye are dear to me, and I realized that since our marriage I have done very little to show ye that. I was immensely irritated with myself when it finally occurred to me this issue hadn’t arisen before yesterday because ye haven’t been outside the walls of Duncurra since ye arrived.”

  She blushed and shook her head. “It’s not important—there were things—I—,” she stammered.

  “Wheest, lass, I’m not humbled often, let me suffer a moment.”

  She laughed, her embarrassment subsiding. “Will you at least try not to assume the worst in the future?”

  “Aye, lass, I will try,” he said with a grin, “but I fear I am a very flawed man, and set in my ways. It may take a few tries before I get the knack of it.”

  “Och, laddie, I fear I’ll be giving ye plenty of practice at that particular skill,” she said, adopting Bridie’s manner of speaking.

  “Will ye now?” he asked, all humility forgotten. “Then perhaps I shall give ye some practice at a different skill? It is, after all, the least I can do in anticipation of your kind tutelage.”

  She giggled as he captured her lips in a soul-stirring kiss. He loved kissing his wife. He would have loved to do more than kiss her, but a horse’s soft whickering dragged him from his musings. “As much as I hate to end this, I suppose I shall have to take ye back.”

  “I suppose so,” she agreed. “But feel free to waste your day with me anytime the notion strikes ye, Laird.”

  “Cheeky wench.”

  Chapter 12

  After the extraordinary day they’d spent together, Niall sought her company much more often. Several days later he waited for her at breakfast again.

  “More surprises?” she asked.

  “I thought ye might like to see more of my land, perhaps meet some of the MacIan farmers.”

  “How much more land is there?”

  “Ye can ride for several hours in any direction without leaving our holding. Most of the farmers live in small clusters scattered throughout our land. My men-at-arms serve sentry duty to ensure the safety of the whole clan, but I, too, make regular visits to make sure all is well with them.”

  “And here I thought you only built walls and trained warriors,” she teased.

  “Ah, my clever lass, ye do have a few things to learn. The warriors may be our clan’s strength and protection, but the farmers are its sustenance, so they are every bit as important.”

  After breakfast, they rode out again with an escort, this time traveling northward. After they had ridden a while they neared a small field of oats. “You do have grain fields. I wondered because I haven’t seen any until now. I’m sure you saw that Cotharach was surrounded by fields of wheat and barley.”

  “We do grow some grain and a few other subsistence crops, but the Highland environment is very harsh. Not to mention the fact that our land isn’t well suited to growing much. We rely heavily on animal products, mostly wool, for income, with which we buy other things we need. A hail storm has little effect on our sturdy Highland beasts, but it can completely destroy a field of grain.”

  “I see. I guess that makes raiders an even bigger problem.”

  “Aye, it does. Even the loss of a few animals to raiders can devastate an already poor clan.”

  ~ * ~

  When they reached the first small cluster of crofts, the farmers and their families stopped their work to greet their laird. Niall introduced her, but the people seemed cautious around her. She tried to draw some of the women into conversation while Niall spoke with their husbands, but while they were not disrespectful, they were guarded. Not wishing to make them uncomfortable, Katherine let it go. Instead she watched Niall’s interactions with his clansmen and saw a completely different side of him. After they remounted their horses and rode away, she commented, “You are different somehow when you talk with the farmers.”

  “Ye are different when ye gather herbs, but how am I different?”

  “I’m not sure exactly. At Duncurra you are every inch the laird and military leader. You are firm and decisive. You tolerate nothing less than absolute respect and your clansmen willingly give it.”

  “Of course they do. I always consider the needs of the clan first. My clan knows my decisions reflect that, so I have earned their respect. Was it not so at Cotharach?”

  “Do you really need to ask that question? My uncle thought of himself first in all things. My clan feared him, they didn’t respect him. He gave no thought at all to the farmers unless they didn’t produce enough to suit him. He told them what he wanted and punished them if they didn’t deliver. He certainly didn’t seek their opinions.”

  “No matter how I may wish to demand it, nothing I say will make the rain fall or the sun shine.”

  “Aye, that is true. However, it is more than that. Somehow here ye seem more open and receptive with them.”

  “As ye pointed out, I am a warrior, not a farmer. These men have knowledge acquired through years of working the land. More than that, they have the knowledge passed down from their fathers and grandfathers, just as my father and Malcolm’s father trained me to be a warrior. I am still their laird.”

  “No doubt. Still, not every leader has learned that lesson.”

  “What lesson? How to talk to farmers? That’s not so very hard,” he jested.

  She laughed, “Nay, when to seek information, and perhaps more importantly, listen to others.”

  He sobered a bit. “Your uncle was not a leader, Katherine, he was a tyrant. I am sorry ye suffered so at his hand.”

  “Thank you. It is true though that one can learn as much from a bad leader as a good one. Knowing what not to do has its value.”
>
  “Never fear, my sweet lass, I am certain there will be occasions to learn what not to do from me as well.”

  ~ * ~

  When they returned to the keep, Edna was full of questions about Katherine’s visit to the crofters.

  “Honestly, Edna, I don’t think they liked me. I seemed to make them uncomfortable.”

  “My lady, Highlanders are not always the most welcoming folks. It has been a long time since we have had a laird’s wife who paid any attention to the clan. Most of the farming families had precious little contact with Laird Alastair’s second wife, but give them time and they will come around.”

  “How can ye be sure of that?”

  “Lady Katherine, ye are kind and gracious and ye always manage to insinuate yourself into things. Frankly, ye are hard not to like.”

  Katherine laughed. “Insinuate myself? What does that mean?”

  “Ye think no one notices how ye slip your way seamlessly into situations? One minute ye are chatting away with someone who is working, and the next ye are working right alongside them.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “Don’t ye? Didn’t I see ye scrubbing pots in the kitchen yesterday?”

  Katherine waved her hand, dismissing the notion, “That was nothing. Bridie needed a little extra help, that’s all.”

  “Ye find a way to give a ‘little extra help’ to everyone ye encounter. Of course, the fact that the laird is so taken with ye will help too.”

  “Why would that matter?”

  “Lady Katherine, ordinary people marry for love but noblemen and women don’t have that luxury. We know neither of ye chose this union. The fact that there is affection between ye is practically miraculous. I think ye have won his heart, my lady, and that is something the clan can be thankful for.”

  Katherine didn’t argue but she clearly remembered Niall saying, my heart was never part of this bargain. Nevertheless, she did as Edna suggested. She gave the clan time, and continued to be herself.

  ~ * ~

  On another visit, she and Niall arrived at one of the small farming communities. An elderly farmer told them his wife, Maire, had been ill.

  Excusing herself, Katherine went into his cottage, where she found his wizened wife trying to sweep the floor. “Hello, Maire, I’m Lady Katherine.”

  The elderly woman made a couple of swipes with the broom and sat down for a moment to catch her breath. “I don’t believe I’ve ever met ye, lass,” she said between breaths, then she stood and tried again to sweep.

  “Nay, I’m sure we have never met,” said Katherine. Taking the broom from Maire, she said, “How about if you sit and have a chat with me while I sweep.”

  “Now, lass, I couldn’t let ye do that.”

  “Oh, please, I would enjoy a chat and I have been sitting all day.”

  “Well, I won’t say your help isn’t appreciated. I’ve had trouble catching my breath all day.”

  “Have you now?” asked Katherine as she made quick work of sweeping the small cottage. “Has your breathing been bothering you for a while, or is it just today?”

  “Ah, lass, I’m getting old. I suppose it has been getting harder for me to do much for weeks, but now that ye ask, it has gotten worse these last few days.”

  After sweeping the dust into the hearth, Katherine put the broom away and said, “I know a bit about healing. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind if I took a quick look. Maybe there is something I can do.”

  Maire chuckled and said, “Well, I don’t think ye can turn back time. Now if there is a powder or a potion that will pep me up a bit, I’ll give it a try.”

  Katherine knelt in front of her and found swelling that pitted to her touch in the old woman’s ankles and lower legs. “Oh, my legs have been swelling up like that for a couple of weeks now,” offered Maire.

  Katherine put her ear to Maire’s chest, hearing moist crackling sounds as she exhaled. “Well, Maire, I think there might be a few things we can do. First, I suspect you will be more comfortable if you take a bit of a rest with your legs up.” With a little protest, she helped the woman into bed, elevating both her head and her feet with pillows. “I won’t be a minute now—I just have to get something from outside.” Popping out of the cottage, she found Turcuil standing in the yard, so she asked him for the dagger he wore on his belt. The confused giant of a man handed her his dagger without question and she proceeded to pry some dandelions from the ground nearby, getting as much of the root as possible.

  Having done that, she carefully cut some nettles, gathering them with her plaid wrapped around her hand to protect her skin from the stinging hairs. Back in the cottage, the women chatted as Katherine prepared an infusion of the dandelion root, adding a little honey to sweeten it. She gave a mug to the old woman to drink. Then she put the nettles in a cauldron of water with onions and a bit of cold chicken she found. “It is rather late in the summer for nettles, so let them stew down well, otherwise they might be a bit tough.”

  “Now, lass, I thought ye had a potion or something for me. Were ye just making an excuse to cook my dinner?”

  Katherine laughed. “Nay, Maire. You are holding on to a lot of water. You can see it there in your legs and that is what is making it hard for you to breathe. The dandelion root and the nettles will help you get rid of some of it. I am going to put the chamber pot here near your bed, so it is easy to reach.”

  Maire looked at her solemnly. “Och, lass, I’ve been on this earth long enough to know what’s happening to me. I told ye, ye can’t turn back time.”

  Katherine sat beside Maire, taking hold of her hand. “You are right. I can’t turn time back, but these things will help make you more comfortable for a while. I’ve left some dandelion root there on the table, I’m sure your husband can find more as you need it. You can tell him how I made it.”

  “Ye are a good lass. What did ye say your name was?”

  Katherine chuckled and answered simply, “Katherine.”

  “Just Katherine, is it? Are ye the laird’s Katherine?”

  “Aye, Maire, I am the laird’s Katherine.”

  “Well, ye are a good lass, Katherine MacIan. That lad’s done well.”

  Katherine smiled at her, but before she could respond, someone knocked on the door. She opened it to find Turcuil looking for her. Turning back, she said, “It has been lovely visiting with you, Maire, but I think my husband is ready to go. Now, remember what I told you and keep your feet up as much as you can.”

  As Katherine rode away, she felt the sadness she always did when there is little to do for someone who is ill except make them more comfortable. She knew eventually the fluid building up would overcome the dear old woman, but in the meantime she would be able to breathe a bit easier. After that day, Katherine always traveled with her bag of medicinal supplies.

  ~*~

  Not surprisingly, knowledge of her skill as a healer spread very quickly at Duncurra. The clan had several midwives, but only Alan’s wife, Effie, had healing skills extending beyond stitching wounds. With eight children, Effie found it difficult to tend all the hurts and ills at Duncurra. It didn’t take long for the MacIan clan to turn to Katherine when they needed her skills. She was always willing to spend a few minutes chatting with them, celebrating their joys, or listening to their problems, and doing whatever she could to help. In this way Katherine learned a lot about the clan and the clan learned more about her. Soon her compassion won over even those who had been suspicious and mistrustful of a Lowlander.

  Occasionally, when someone on an outlying farm needed a skilled healer, Niall took Katherine there. However, for the most part, the clansmen and women sought Katherine out at the keep. As their laird’s wife, she suspected they weren’t completely comfortable asking her to come to them.

  Late one morning, she sat in the great hall reviewing the account books with Hendry. Caolin, one of the women who worked in the kitchen, rushed in and said, “My lady, I beg your pardon. Please, I need
your help. I tried to find Effie, but she is delivering a bairn.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Tis my sister’s child, she is terribly ill. She is coughing so much she can barely breathe. Kara lives in the village. Can ye come?”

  “Of course I’ll come. Give me a minute to get my things. Hendry, can we finish this later?”

  “Aye, my lady. I’ve been itching to go down to the lake and fish for a spell, anyway,” he said with a wink.

  Katherine retrieved her bag of medicinal supplies before walking with Caolin to Kara’s cottage.

  “Kara’s husband is one of the men-at-arms here and he is away on sentry duty,” Caolin explained as they walked. “Their four-year-old daughter Ailis is terribly ill—she can barely breathe. Lady Katherine, they lost a baby last winter to a fever. Kara is beside herself with worry.”

  Caolin hadn’t exaggerated. When they arrived they found Kara in a panic and Ailis struggling to breathe between coughing fits. Katherine stepped in, calmly taking control. The smoke from burning rosemary filled the house. Many people believed it would ward off infection, but Katherine had found the smoke seemed to make things worse, particularly for coughing illnesses. She had Kara remove the burning herbs from the cottage, then opened the windows and doors to help clear the smoke.

  While Ailis’ skin felt hot and her lips looked dry and cracked, Katherine didn’t think the little girl had a dangerously high fever. The things Katherine had found to be most helpful in relieving a serious cough were steam and getting the patient to drink plenty of fluids. She bade Caolin heat a kettle of water. In the meantime, she held the child upright on her lap, speaking to her in a soft, calm voice while supporting her during the coughing spells.

  Once the water boiled, Katherine poured some in a bowl placed on the table. Then she had Kara sit with Ailis on her lap. She put a linen towel over their heads, covering the bowl and trapping some of the steam. She replaced the water in the bowl as needed to keep it steaming. The child’s breathing eased a bit, but she was still not out of the woods. Katherine knew she had to get some fluids into the wee lass, too, so she made a tisane of peppermint, chamomile, and lemon balm, sweetened slightly with honey. Even if it was just a spoonful at a time, she made sure Ailis drank as much as she could between coughing spasms. After several hours of spooning liquids into the lass, Ailis still hadn’t used the chamber pot.