Page 107 of Sighs of the Highland Wind
He nodded, unable to speak for a moment, then gritted his teeth and groaned as the stabbing, tingling pain of pins and needles accompanied the blood flow back into his toes, knees, and the front of his legs.
When he opened his eyes, Norah was bending over him, her soft rounded breast touching his shoulder. If his joints had not been aching so badly it would have been heavenly. As it was, it was merely wonderful, as he gazed into her silver-grey eyes that were shadowed with concern. He breathed in the warm musk of her skin, and reflected that he had never smelled a sweeter perfume. However, she was waiting for an answer.
“I hurt everywhere,” he answered, wincing. “My knees, my neck, my ankles, my toes…”
“Wait,” Norah ordered, then she moved slowly and carefully straightened his legs, and moved around him to massage first one knee, then the other, chasing the pain and stiffness away. After that she began on his toes. This awakened a strange mixture of pleasure and discomfort that made him squirm, but gradually stopped the tingling. The touch of her hands was more soothing than any balm, and after a few moments he relaxed and began to breathe slowly and evenly again.
“How did you learn to do this?” he asked in amazement. “The pain has almost gone.”
She frowned. “Caitrin taught me, and her mother taught her. She used to rub her husband’s aches and pains when he came in from work every night. She made me try it on her knee joints, which are usually very stiff and sore. She said that it would come in very useful someday when I was married, and that husbands always liked their wives to be able to do this kind of thing for them.”
“But you are not married,” he pointed out, then almost at the same moment he realized that he had said the wrong thing. “Although I am sure ye have had nae shortage of suitors.”
Abruptly, as if a shutter had come down, Norah’s face became expressionless and she stood up.
“Let me get you some more ale,” she said as she poured it into a cup for him.
Tearlach watched her and sighed. He had obviously upset her; he must have touched a raw nerve with his last statement. However, he decided that now was not the best time to pursue the matter. He accepted the ale from her and drank it down thirstily in one draught.
“I thought you might have a dry throat,” she remarked, frowning at him as she fetched a pitcher and poured more for him. “The redcoats have gone for the moment, but you must be very careful. They warned me that there would be serious consequences for you and anyone hiding you if you are caught.”
“Damn!” Tearlach said angrily. He felt frustrated and furious. He knew that his aches and pains would disappear in a little while, but his regrets would not. “I should never have allowed myself to get into this trouble, Norah. Because of me, you and Caitrin are in danger. I should go.”
He had just about managed to sit, but when he tried to stand up his knee joints would not allow it. He decided to try lying prostrate on the floor again and stretched out as far as he could in every direction, trying to straighten out his joints. He relaxed for a moment, then Norah, with a supreme effort, helped him to his feet and put her arm around his waist while he wobbled for a moment.
His world had tilted a little on its axis, and he staggered a few steps before almost falling down onto one of the rough kitchen chairs. His head was still spinning and he had to sit perfectly still, eyes closed, until it stopped, but when he opened his eyes, he saw Caitrin’s anxious old face looking at him.
“How are ye, Tearlach?” she asked, concerned. “Have ye hurt yourself, son?”
Tearlach smiled at her, wishing his grandmother was still alive, and that she had been more like Caitrin instead of the grumpy old matron he remembered. “I am fine, Caitrin,” he replied. “Although I will be better once I can straighten out my arms and legs again. I am sorry for puttin’ ye in such trouble.”
Caitrin put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him with a fond smile. “It was my duty, Tearlach,” she said proudly. “My duty an’ my privilege to be able to help ye. I am an old woman an’ I cannae go an’ fight, but if I was young an’ strappin’ like you there would be nae holdin’ me back, an’ it would give me a great deal o’ pleasure to wipe the smile off one o’ those smug Sassenach faces! Maybe even part a few o’ their heads fae their shoulders!”
Tearlach laughed. Caitrin might be a poor woman, but she was rich in the kind of fighting spirit that had spat defiance at the English for hundreds of years, and was still doing so. His gaze flicked back to Norah, who was washing the dishes that she had not been able to attend to because of their unwelcome visitors.
“Wipin’ smiles off English faces is not as easy as it sounds, ye know, Caitrin.” His voice was grim. “But if sacrifices have to be made so that Scotland is safe, then so be it. I am not sayin’ I want to die, but if I have to lay down my life for my country then I will do it.”
Caitrin was gazing at him, her eyes glinting with tears. “They killed my husband, as I told ye, Tearlach,” she said heavily, “but my youngest son, Alec, is a soldier too, an’ he feels the same way as you do. He will die if he has to, but oh, I dinnae want him to die.” Her seamed face crumpled and she burst into tears.
Tearlach stood up and wrapped his arms around Caitrin, then held her tight, leaning his cheek on the top of her hair. He said nothing, but made soothing noises as he rocked her back and forth in his arms.
Caitrin was in her seventy-first year of life, but she had never felt as secure as she did at that moment, even when her husband was alive. It was astonishing, she thought, how the very presence of a strong but gentle and steady man made a woman feel safer.
Norah watched them as she began to wash the cups that had contained the ale, remembering the first time she had seen Tearlach properly. She had often noticed him in the distance, of course, because he was so much bigger and stronger than all the other boys, but she had never been allowed out of the grounds of her smart house to mix with the rough village children, especially the boys.
Her father was not a particularly affectionate parent, but he shielded her to protect her from bad influences that would harm her social standing when she grew up. She had never understood why she was not allowed to play with the village children, all of whom seemed to be having so much more fun than she was. Her father always told her that she was better than them, but she had never felt better. They were just like her, and she longed to be one of them.
Yet now, as an adult, it all made sense. Her father had been making sure that she would be handed to her husband in a pureand pristine state without any flaws. She had to be protected from scratches or scuffs, and not infected with any germs of the body or the personality. Accordingly, her upbringing had been completely sterile, cut off from any harmful outside influences except those deemed socially acceptable by her father.
However, she had been growing restless. As her body grew in stature, so did her mind, and she had felt more and more trapped by the constrictions of her upbringing. She had been going somewhere in the carriage with her father one day when she saw Tearlach standing by the side of the road. He looked up, their gazes met, and Norah’s world changed forever. After that day she had made it her mission to meet him.
The day that she managed to get out of the clutches of her stuffy governess, Mistress McFarlane, was one of the most glorious ones of her life. She had planned it all in advance. The woman always got up at the same ungodly hour every morning to put on all her petticoats and corsets and primp herself up for the day. Consequently, Norah had to be awake and abroad very early, which she was, because she was too excited to sleep.
She crept out of bed just as dawn was breaking and dressed hastily, then hurried down to the kitchen and grabbed a cup of milk, a slice of bread and cheese and an apple. She was out of the house before the servants woke up, and saw the first rays of the sun as it rose, something she had never seen before.
Norah had never done anything quite so terrifying or so exhilarating in her life. She knew that it was wrong; she knew that all hell would break loose when she returned home, but she could not stop herself. She felt like a caged bird let out to fly freefor the first time in its life, and she knew exactly where her wings would take her.
Tearlach McLachlan was the blacksmith’s son, and he lived behind his father’s forge at the end of the main street. Norah had often seen him kicking a homemade leather ball around the street with a bunch of other boys and girls, and had admired his size and strength. He had only been twelve years old then, but his body was already tough and muscular, showing the first signs of the man he would become.
