Page 63 of Laird of Smoke
He reached behind his head.When his fingers emerged, they were smeared with blood.Nonetheless, he nodded.
“Nay, ye’re not all right,” Adam said, hunkering down beside the youth.He snatched up a linen bath cloth and pressed it carefully against the gash in the lad’s head.“How long has that swine been tormentin’ ye lads like this?”
One of the other lads answered as he mopped up the floor with another cloth.“The master has always been heavyhanded, m’laird.”
The third youth, whom Eve noticed had a purple bruise under his eye, said, “He says ’tis the only way we’ll e’er learn, m’lady.”
“Did he give ye that?”she asked, nodding toward his cheek.
The youth lowered his head and confessed, “I was lookin’ after my sickly brother yesterday and came late to the castle.”
The second lad chimed in, “The master doesn’t abide lateness.”
Adam growled.“I should have drowned the churl when I had the chance.”
But Eve’s instincts to help and heal heard something different in the third lad’s words.“Ye said your brother is sickly?”
“Aye, m’lady.And my ma was called away to help with the lambin’.I was the only one close at hand to look after him.”
Eve made up her mind then and there.“I have some skill with herbs.In the morn, I’ll look in on your brother and see if I can help.”
Adam made a noise that sounded like he’d swallowed a bug.Then he gave her a brittle smile and said, “Darlin’, don’t ye remember?We’ve got to get an early start if we want to get to—”
“This is more important, sweetheart,” she said, fluttering her lashes and daring him to contradict her.“’Tis the least we can do when these lads have been so sorely mistreated.”
She saw a muscle ticking in his jaw.Of course Adam was upset.He’d just done something to draw attention to himself.’Twas the last thing a master of disguise wanted.No doubt the news of the laird’s Irish guest who’d finally given the cruel master his due by almost drowning him would soon be whispered among the servants.The Irish guest would be lucky if he wasn’t compromised.
But she had to admire Adam’s courage.His integrity.His sense of right and wrong.Clearly, wielding justice had been worth the risk to him.
Just as looking after the lad’s sickly brother was worth the risk to Eve.
“Bless ye, m’lady,” the youth said, gratitude shining in his eyes.
Still, Adam looked displeased.They would have to make sure to take all precautions to avoid drawing even more attention to themselves.
Finlay’s head stopped bleeding, though there was a large knot left which he said throbbed with every beat of his heart.
“I have just the thing,” she said, digging in her satchel.
Adam frowned when he saw the stoppered vial.
“’Tis only willow bark,” she assured him, removing the cork.She pulled a wooden cup out of her satchel and nodded toward the pitcher set on a small table by the bed.“Fetch me a bit o’ water, aye?”
When Adam returned with the cup, she sprinkled a bit of the powder into the water.“Drink this down all at once.It tastes terrible, but ’twill take away the pain.”
After a bit, Adam elbowed the youth and wiggled his brows at Eve.“’Twas satisfyin’ to see the man squirmin’ a bit, aye?”
Finlay gave a weak smile and nodded.
A proper nun would have scolded Adam for taking the Lord’s vengeance into his own hands.But Eve didn’t feel like a proper nun at the moment.
“Indeed.”
He gave her a wink that set her heart aflutter.
By the time the mess was cleaned up and Finlay’s pain had begun to subside, the cauldron on the fire was steaming.
Finlay asked, “Shall we fetch the lady’s maid now to help with your bath?”
