The Healer by Allison Butler

kitchen maids kindly offered, I found she’d already finished bathing and stood by the fire clutching her wet clothes.’
    An image of the Englishwoman, dressed in nothing but pink flushed skin, rose to the forefront of William’s mind. As tired as he was, his body stirred to life.
    ‘She looks as lost as a frightened lamb and holds her secrets close,’ Mary continued. ‘But given time, I shall find out all there is to know about her.’
    ‘Good.’ William didn’t doubt it.
    ‘Donald fetched her scant belongings,’ Mary went on, ‘but they were in poor shape. She has her healing herbs and is eager to see Edan.’
    Though he wanted to rid himself of his sodden attire, William said, ‘Bring her eagerness here, then. I doubt Edan will whine over her coddling, as he does mine.’
    ‘A woman is meant to coddle the sick and injured,’ Edan pointed out from the bed. ‘And she is much prettier to look upon than you.’
    Aye, she was, even travel-worn and soaked through. How would she appear freshly bathed and free of the sorry cloak she’d worn like armour for the last two days?
    ‘Why don’t you tell me everything you know about her, laird?’
    William turned and looked into Mary’s keen gaze. ‘There is little to tell, Mary. Edan needed a healer. The woman volunteered.’
    ‘Ah, blether. She’s English and there’s more to how she came to be here,’ she muttered and headed for the door.
    ‘One more thing, Mary,’ William said. ‘I expect you to pass on all you learn about the healer.’
    Mary’s eyes narrowed. ‘Now I ken you’re hiding something.’ With a sharp nod of her head, Mary left the room.
    William resumed filling the tub and sighed when a sharp rap sounded on the thick oak panel. Mary obviously wasn’t pleased with him. ‘Come.’
    The portal opened and a scowling Mary trudged back in, followed by the healer carrying her herbs.
    ‘Thank you, Mary. You can find your rest now.’
    She threw him a glare and turned on her heel. ‘Don’t let them keep you long, lass,’ she said to the healer. ‘After sharing their company on your journey here, you’ll be in need of a good night’s rest. I’ll come for you in the morning.’ She marched from the room, slamming the heavy door behind her.
    The healer flinched and lifted blue eyes full of uncertainty to his. Clad in a white gown, a nightgown, laced high on her throat, she looked as innocent and as lost as Mary had described.
    Her hair was fashioned in a single plait that draped over one shoulder and shone red-gold in the flaming torchlight. His gaze travelled down the length of the garment and he spied bare toes peeking out from under the hem. The small toes curled inward as he watched.
    ‘I’ve come to see to Edan.’
    Her voice held remarkably steady, considering the nervousness emanating from her. She had a right to feel nervous, for in his tired and uncomfortable state a sense of wickedness had swelled in his blood. He held it in check.
    ‘My brother awaits.’ He gestured to the bed, where Edan lay quietly, and then poured the last pail of the now warm water into the tub. If he didn’t make use of the cooling water soon, he might as well strip naked and wash outside in the rain.
    Placing the empty vessel beside the others, William wandered to the unoccupied side of the bed as Edan finished telling the healer he hadn’t suffered any ill effects from his drenching.
    She mixed a potion using the water and wine set on the bedside table and sipped. William then tasted it before passing it to his brother. Her hands trembled slightly as she scooped the salve from the pot and painted it onto his proffered wrist. She used gentle strokes to coat Edan’s thigh wound, wrapped his leg with thick bandages and then re-splinted his broken arm.
    William aided her in binding Edan’s bruised torso, her fingers brushing his as they passed the long strips of linen back and forth. Her breathing hitched with each feather-like touch and the control he