Page 23 of Claimed By a Savage Scot
“I could write and ask tae postpone their visit fer a few weeks,” he suggested. “That would solve the problem.”
But John held up a parchment. “We received this letter yesterday, me laird. Laird Forbes sent word that he and hissister have already begun their journey here,” he explained. “So, there’s nay time tae postpone the visit.”
The news was troubling but Malcolm kept calm, his mind whirring.
“’Tis bad timing’, aye, but it cannae be helped,” he said at last. “I dinnae need tae remind ye all that the Forbes are one of our strongest neighbors as far as military might goes. Our alliance with them is only recent, true, but it’ll be essential if we havetae stand against Torcall Sinclair at some point. Thus, refusin’ them hospitality is out of the question. Tae dae so might offend them and risk weakenin’ the alliance. We must welcome them warmly, while at the same quietly strengthening our defenses. Those are me orders. Daes anyone have anythin’ else tae say before I close this meetin’?”
He was glad when no one did and he could dismiss everyone.
He and Ewan stayed behind for a few minutes while the others trickled out into the hall. He and his brother went over a few fine details for implementing his extra security measures. After agreeing them, Ewan made to depart, remarking, “I’ll be up on the battlements.”
“I’ll be up later tae talk tae the men,” “Malcolm replied.
After they parted, Malcolm sought the peace and quiet of his chamber. He went inside, swallowed a generous dram of whisky, stripped off his weapons and soiled clothing, and then got into the tub that had been prepared for him. Letting out a sigh ofrelief mixed with pleasure, he sank into the hot water with a groan of satisfaction.
He lay there with his eyes closed, letting his thoughts drift. Suddenly, without any intention on his part, a disturbing image of Catriona lying in the tub stark naked only a short way down the hall popped into his mind. He knew it was his imagination furnishing the details, the long legs, the narrow waist, the gentle flare of her hips, for he had not seen beneath that damned black dress of hers. But it was no less arousing.
He tried to banish the image, but it would not budge. Powerless, he could only sigh with frustration as his cock gradually rose above the surface of the water. For lack of the real thing, he did know what else he could do but close his fist firmly around the thick column of flesh it and take himself in hand.
Catriona was relaxing by the fire enjoying a cup of wine, her injured foot propped up on a footstool in front of her, when Isla returned.
“Me lady, I’ve come tae tell ye that the healer the laird ordered is on the way tae see ye,” the maid announced, standing by the open door.
Catriona shook her head and sighed.
Isla’s forehead furrowed. “Oh, dear, are ye feelin’ unwell, me lady?” she asked worriedly.
Catriona smiled faintly and waved a dismissive hand. “Nay, I’m fine. I was just reminded of me braither. He always makes an unnecessary fuss as well.”
“Well, it shows the laird’s worried about ye, so that’s nice. But such kindness is typical of him,” Isla remarked. The comment landed with Catriona, reminding her of how well Malcolm had taken care of her and shown respect to everyone they had met, however lowly.
“Aye, he is kind,” she agreed, getting used to the idea that time had changed him from the callow, slightly arrogant young man she remembered into a good and responsible laird.
Behind Isla, an older woman in the open doorway appeared. She was rather small and matronly, with graying brown hair scraped back from her face and secured in a tight knot at the back of her head. She wore a dark kirtle and carried a worn leather satchel over her shoulder.
She stepped inside and nodded respectfully to Catriona. “I’m Mairead, the healer, me lady. The Laird sent me,” she said with smile.
Catriona smiled back, feeling an instant connection with the healer, who had intelligent brown eyes. The lines on Mairead’s face spoke of years of work and experience, and there was a steady calmness in her expression.
Catriona knew she was in good hands.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Aye, ’tis a sprain all right, and quite a nasty one at that,” Mairead announced after a few minutes, leaning back on her heels. “Ye did well tae bind it tae keep down the swellin’. Rest it as much as possible on a pillow and it’ll be fine. I’ll put on some arnica salve fer the bruisin’ and then I’ll strap it up fer ye.”
“Och, that feels much better, Mairead, I’m grateful tae ye,” Catriona said when it was done, admiring Mairead’s neat bandaging as she tentatively moved her ankle. “It daesnae ache so much now.”
She settled her foot on the stool once more and went on, “I must confess, I feel a bit of a fraud fer taking up yer time. I told the laird it was only a sprain, but he’s an fusspot.”
Mairead smiled as she rose to her feet. “Aye, he was most insistent that I come and see ye, me lady. He gave me strict orders tae examine ye thoroughly, whatever yer objections.”
Catriona laughed. “Aye, I bet he did. Honestly, ye’d think me leg was about tae fall off, the way he’s been actin’. I’ve knowledge of healin’ mesel’, but that was nae good enough.”
Mairead perked up. “Ye dae? How so, me lady?”
Catriona nodded and proceeded to explain about how Elaina’s teachings had encouraged her early interest in the healing arts and about her time working in the infirmary at the priory.
“Why, that’s wonderful, me lady,” Mairead exclaimed, slipping her satchel over her shoulder. “Ye have a lot of experience. I’d love tae talk with ye about it. A healer is always learnin’, as they say. Nay wonder ye’ve made such a good job of lookin’ after yer ankle.”
