Embraced by a Highlander Read online

  “I need you to go to the village to the healer, Neata. She has something for me.”

  Hannah wondered if Helice was ill, though she certainly looked hardy enough, but it would not be polite of her to ask. “Where will I find the healer?”

  “Ask anyone in the village and they will point the way. You are to go there and return as soon as you finish. Do not—”

  “Dally,” Hannah finished with a smile.

  “So you know you dally, yet you do nothing about it,” Helice accused.

  Hannah wondered if the woman ever found anything amusing or even smiled. She would not let that ruin the excitement that stirred in her over being able to get away from the keep for a while.

  “A fault of mine, I fear,” Hannah said, letting her smile fade.

  “A fault that needs immediate correcting.”

  “Aye,” Hannah agreed with a nod.

  “Take the bucket of ashes while I see to taking the soiled bedding, which you will scrub on your return home.”

  Home?

  Was this now her home? Was this all she had?

  A tear tickled at her one eye and she made sure to turn away so that Helice could not see. By the time Hannah stepped into the kitchen the tear had faded, though it returned as she stepped outside and headed to the village.

  She had had no time to grieve over what she had lost or perhaps she simply had not wanted to think on it. She feared the more she dwelled on her situation, the more her heart would break.

  Stay strong. Survive.

  More of her mum’s repetitious wisdom that at one time annoyed her and now gave her strength. It also made her realize how strong her mum had been and how she had survived a marriage that was anything but loving. She had made the most of it and had survived until an illness had taken her.

  “I will survive, Mum, and it is because of you I will survive,” she whispered her heart heavy with loving memories of her mum.

  With tears gone, a smile and a strong gait, she entered the village. It was not as easy as she expected to get someone to speak with her. Every time she approached someone, they would scurry away from her as if frightened. She finally caught sight of Wilona, the slim woman whose long dark hair seemed to be at odds with her and whose dark eyes seemed too large for her face.

  Wilona’s eyes nearly popped from her head when they settled on Hannah and she looked ready to run.

  “Wilona, a moment of your time,” Hannah called out and before the woman could run off, Hannah hurried over to her.

  Wilona rung her hands as she spoke. “Do not tell me you are leaving us.”

  “No, not at all,” Hannah confirmed and watched the woman’s face flood with relief. “I simply need to know where I can find the healer.”

  “Someone is ill at the keep?’ Wilona was quick to ask.

  “All I know is that I have been told to fetch something from the healer,” Hannah explained, feeling it was not right of her to say anymore, but then she knew nothing more than that.

  “I will take you there,” Wilona said.

  “That is generous of you,” Hannah said, though she was aware that generosity had nothing to do with it. It was curiosity that had Wilona offering and it took only a few steps before the questions started.

  “How is Helice treating you?”

  Wilona sounded more like she demanded than asked, similar to the way Helice spoke to her, so her abrupt nature did not offend Hannah. “She is generous at meal time and her food is the most delicious I have ever tasted. The chores are plentiful and keep me busy. I have no complaints.”

  Wilona was speechless, though only for a few moments. “And our chief, he treats you well?”

  Hannah spoke the truth. “I have not met him yet, though he must be a learned man since he has many books.”

  Wilona snorted. “Learned in ways of battle. It was his mum who was the learned one. The clan often wondered what the sweet and wise Leala saw in the not so wise, though handsome William.”

  “It was not an arranged marriage?”

  Wilona shook her head, then nodded. “It was both. The two fell in love and their marriage was beneficial to both clans so no objections were made. Slain got his da’s fine features and thankfully his mum’s intelligence.” She stopped walking. “Here we are.”

  Hannah looked to where Wilona pointed, to a small cottage at the end of a narrow path.

  “Neata is a good healer.” Wilona went to turn away and stopped. “Welcome to the Clan MacKewan.”

  Hannah smiled. She had a feeling that Wilona could be almost as cantankerous as Helice, and did not accept people into the clan easily, so she was grateful for the, if not warm but abrupt, welcome.

  Though, Neata’s cottage was small, a huge garden sprawled out around it, drawing a wide smile from Hannah as she got closer. Fresh spring buds were sprouting everywhere and the leaves on the old oak trees were springing to life. A wreath, abundant with dried herbs, graced the front door that sprung open before Hannah reached it.

  The woman who stepped out had seen a plethora of springs and winters, the deep lines around her mouth and cheerful eyes attesting to that. Her long gray hair was streaked liberally with white and laid in a braid on her chest. She was petite and slim, almost fragile looking and yet there was a strength about her that could not be denied.

  “You must be Hannah,” Neata said as Hannah approached. She waved to her. “Come in. Come in. I have been eager to meet you.”

  Hannah entered the cottage, a smile surfacing as an array of lovely scents assaulted her. Never had she been in a cottage or a room that smelled so inviting.

  “Sit. Sit,” Neata directed, pointing to one of two chairs that sat opposite of each other at the small table in front of the hearth.

  Hannah glanced around as Neata busied herself fixing them a hot brew. A narrow bed sat tucked in a corner while slim tables, more like high benches, sat beneath the two windows, baskets, crocks, and pouches sitting atop them.

  “I have what Helice needs,” Neata said as she filled a tankard for Hannah and one for herself, then sat.

  “It is none of my concern and I do not intend to pry, but is Helice ill?” Hannah asked, feeling the need to learn more about the woman especially with what had happened in the woods. Was Helice a champion of Slain or a traitor?

  “A minor problem that will heal,” Neata said and took a sip of the brew before continuing. “But what of you? I see that you favor your one arm.”

  Hannah had thought she had disguised it well enough, but the chores had taken its toll on her arm. She had felt it growing weaker and without rest, as she had been warned was needed, it would get worse.

  “An unfortunate accident that weakens my arm at times,” she said, not wanting the woman to know the truth.

  “Helice will need more of the salve I send her. Next time you come for it, I will have a look at your arm and see what might be done to help it.”

  “I am grateful for any help you can give me,” Hannah said, thinking of the healer who had so bravely helped her survive the torture she had suffered.

  “I am a healer; I heal,” Neata said. “Now tell me how you fare at the keep.”

  “I am learning my way,” Hannah said with a smile.

  Neata smiled as well, her whole face lighting with it. “And how do you find our chief?”

  “I have yet to meet him,” Hannah confessed.

  Neata nodded. “He can be a recluse at times.”

  Hannah wished she could stay and talk with the woman, but she was reminded of Helice’s words.

  Do not dally.

  She did not want to chance losing her position there. She needed this place of safety.

  “I cannot stay, Helice awaits my return,” Hannah said and stood reluctantly. “Thank you for the brew.”

  “Next time, you will stay longer and I will see to that arm of yours that drags your shoulder down.”

  Hannah looked down at her arm. She had felt the weight of it herself with the days of heavy chores.
But she would not speak of it to anyone, she could not, for she took the chance of revealing the truth.

  With a nod and taking the small crock of salve from Neata, she left. She had barely stepped off the path to Neata’s cottage and into the heart of the village when she heard her name called. She smiled and returned Blair’s wave as the woman hurried over to her.

  “Wilona spoke with you,” Hannah said as she continued walking, Blair joining alongside her.

  “Aye, she did and I wanted to make sure all was well with you,” Blair said.

  “All is well,” Hannah said, not entirely sure, though for now she wanted to believe so.

  “I cannot tell you how relieved many—most—in the village are that you are still here, helping at the keep. But what of your family? Will they not miss you?”

  Curiosity, or was it fear Hannah would take her leave, that had Blair asking. Hannah eased the woman’s mind. “There is no place left for me to go.”

  Or so she believed, but then there was nothing to prove otherwise. What the future held she did not know, but for now she was safe.

  “Then you will stay here?” Blair asked and seemed to hold her breath.

  “As long as I am welcome.”

  Blair grinned. “You are a MacKewan now and always will be. Welcome to the clan.”

  Hannah smiled, grateful for the acceptance, though worried it would not turn out as well as Blair believed.

  “All goes well at the keep?” Blair asked, walking alongside Hannah.

  Hannah thought this would be a good time to see if she could learn anything about the keep and Slain MacKewan in particular. “Aye, all goes well, though…” She let her words hang.

  “Something is wrong?” Blair asked anxiously.

  “More strange than wrong. Why is it that no one is allowed in the east wing?” Hannah asked, hoping to find an answer.

  Blair glanced around to see if anyone was near and listening. When she saw that no one lingered close by, she spoke, but in a whisper. “Slain took over the east wing when he returned home from an early battle. He spent many secluded days there. There is speculation about what he did there, but no one was ever brave enough to question him or find out for themselves. Every now and then a flickering light is seen in one of the room’s windows. Some believe it is the ghost of Leala watching over her son. She loved him dearly.”

  Hannah stopped abruptly. “The clan believes the keep haunted?”

  Blair shook her head rapidly. “No, no, it is just that when lights are seen in the east wing some wonder—”

  “If it is a ghost,” Hannah finished.

  “It does not happen that often,” Blair said.

  “When was the last time the lights were seen?”

  Blair worried her bottom lip, reluctant to speak.

  “Since I have been here?”

  Blair was quick to shake her head. “No. No lights have been seen since your arrival.”

  “But were seen before I arrived?”

  Blair gave a reluctant nod. “We should have told you, but we were cowards. While Slain MacKewan is a good man, the savage can be a brutal one.”

  “You feared he would hurt one of his own if you did not send someone to the keep?”

  Again Blair shook her head quickly. “No. He has been good to us, but we have seen the savage released and it puts the fear of the devil into you, though we have heard it is nothing compared to the one he fought for… Warrick.”

  “The demon,” Hannah whispered as a shiver raced through her.

  Blair shivered as well. “We do not know what goes on with our chief. He has changed and we do not know the man he has become.”

  Hannah nodded, understanding more than Blair would ever know, for she was not the person she once was and would never be again.

  Blair rested a gentle arm on Hannah’s. “Listen to Helice and stay away from the east wing. If anything resides there it is sorrow.” She patted Hannah’s arm. “I hope to see you again soon. We can talk more as friends often do.”

  Hannah smiled. It would be good to have a friend. “I would like that.”

  They parted, Blair turning and walking away and Hannah walking toward the keep.

  The skies had darkened, a storm approaching and Hannah hurried her steps. She raised her head, curiosity having her eyes go to the east wing. It appeared ominous and bleak against the threatening skies.

  What secrets did it hold?

  She told herself it did not matter, that it did not concern her. She hurried her step, the first drop of rain splattering on the ground.

  She gave one last look up at the east wing and she stopped dead, her heart slamming in her chest as she caught sight of a light flickering in one of the windows.

  Chapter 4

  Hannah woke the next morning with still no signs that Slain MacKewan had returned. His solar was untouched, as was his bedchamber. Helice had her cleaning out the room off the kitchen after the morning meal. It stored various foods, the ones that had rotted needing to be discarded and room made ready for what late spring and summer blooms would have to offer them.

  Her arm ached considerably after the chore, though it was from the accumulation of all the work she had been doing. Her arm would grow worse if she did not rest it, but there was no chance of that. She prayed it would not simply go limp, as it had done before. If it did, Helice might not feel her fit enough to remain working at the keep.

  Once finished with the storeroom, Helice ordered Hannah to get busy in the Great Hall. She was to dust and scrub as she had done to other rooms.

  Hannah gathered a bucket and filled it with water from the rain barrel outside the kitchen door. She grabbed several cloths from the stack on a chest in the kitchen, added a chunk of soap, the scent pleasing enough, and went to the Great Hall.

  She rolled up her worn sleeves and went to the three windows covered with shabby and tattered tapestries and one by one tore them down, coughing as she did from the dust she had disturbed. Not that it was difficult, neglect having rotted them. It was a shame since they must have been beautiful at one time. But what was more of a shame was the light they had prevented from shining through the windows.

  The sun was shining brightly and struck the windows, pouring light into the sizeable room and highlighting the plethora of dust motes dancing in the air. Hannah stood where the sun shined the brightest through the one window and let it bathe her face with its warmth, sneezing several times as she did.

  At that very moment, it struck her… she was free, though for how long she did not know. But for now, she would enjoy it.

  She smiled, turned, and got busy cleaning the Great Hall, using the solitude to think on what to do next. Her thoughts were always clearer when she was busy, allowing ideas to take root and grow. Some would blossom while others withered on the vine. She needed things to blossom, too much had withered of late.

  She concentrated on one section of the Great Hall, knowing the task was too difficult to complete in one day. She dusted and swept before she got busy scrubbing the tables, benches, candelabras, anything that needed cleaning, and when Helice appeared with food for her, Hannah was pleased to see the look of surprise on her face, not that it lasted long. The stern woman wiped it off almost as fast as it had appeared.

  “Eat,” Helice ordered, placing a board with bread and cheese on it on the table along with a full tankard.

  “With your permission, I would like to go collect some heather to scent the Great Hall. I saw that it grows on the hill on the side of the keep.”

  “After you eat, and do not dally, I want the Great Hall half-finished today,” Helice ordered.

  Hannah smiled and nodded, and Helice shook her head and mumbled in her home language as she walked away. She wasted no time in eating the generous amount of food Helice had provided. She was familiar with hunger and not sure of her positon here, or anything for that matter, she had promised herself she would fill herself with food when given the chance.

  Once done, she returne
d the wood board and tankard to the kitchen, grabbed a basket from the few stacked by the door and hurried outside to collect the heather.

  Spring was strong in the air after a cold winter, though a chill continued to linger. She should have worn a cloak, if she had one. It had slipped her mind to grab the one by the kitchen door. If only she had her own, but then she would not be here if she was in possession of her cloak. She would be home.

  No time to dwell. Do what you must.

  Another of her mum’s many warnings rang clear in her head. She would pay it heed, but for now she would do something she had once so enjoyed doing with her mum. She would collect heather and perhaps some branches and make a wreath to place on the mantel. The lovely scent would be pleasing this evening while she sat and further thought on ideas beginning to take root.

  Hannah found a spot where the sun beat down the strongest and went to work collecting heather. She lingered in the task, the warmth of the sun on her skin much more inviting than the darkness of the keep as well as the fresh scent of the abundant heather. She breathed deeply of the familiar musky fragrance with a light touch of flowery sweetness. Again a reminder that at the moment she was free.

  The basket was nearly full when she reached for another sprig. Her hand cramped and she winced from the pain. She turned her head as she rubbed hard at her palm, trying to force the cramp away, and as she did her eyes caught sight of someone standing at the second window above the Great Hall… Slain MacKewan’s bedchamber.

  She squeezed her eyes, straining to make out the figure and in the blink of an eye the person disappeared. Had it been Helice? Or had it been the elusive Slain MacKewan?

  She glanced up at the empty window and smiled at the strangeness of the keep and how it served her well right now. She remained looking over the dark edifice while continuing to ease the cramp from her hand. It could be a lovely place with the thickets removed and life restored to the inside with laughter and love.