Page 73 of Laird of Smoke
“Thank me?”
“Aye, for…” She gazed at the spot where they’d made love.
He couldn’t help but grin.“’Twas my pleasure.”
She gave him a sly glance.“I think from now on I shall have to insist on goose-down pallets.”
“From now on?”The idea of a future with her pleased him immensely.
She pretended she didn’t hear that.She went back to her sewing, frowning intently at her work as he pulled on his braies and slipped into his leine.
He was completely dressed by the time she snipped off the final thread and slipped needle, thread, and scissors back into a case in her satchel.
“There,” she said.“’Tisn’t perfect, but ’twill have to do.I have a task to attend to.”
A task?Oh aye, he remembered.Aillenn had promised to look in on Finlay’s wee brother.
He hung the curtain while she dressed, doing his best to hide the ragged seam in the folds of the drape.Then they packed up their satchels, grabbed an oatcake and ale in the great hall to break their fast, and bid Pitcairn a grateful farewell.
Finlay brought them their horses.Then the lad led them to his home, a nearby crofter’s cottage.
Adam squinted at the thick smoke coming through the roof.It was common wisdom that the ill should be closeted in a warm environment.But the Rivenlochs came from Vikings.They believed in clean water and fresh air.
“What’s your brother’s name?”Aillenn asked Finlay.
“He hasn’t got one yet.He was born but a sennight ago.”
Eve’s heart sank.Whatever confidence she’d had crumbled.Though she dared not admit it to Finlay or anyone else, there was little hope for a bairn who fell ill so soon after birth.
“Shite,” Adam said under his breath.
She gave him a sharp glare.He obviously understood the odds as well.But there was no point in discouraging Finlay.
She meant to do what she could.She would comfort the bairn.She would comfort the family.And, for the love of God, she would open the door to let in the outside air.Why people believed peat smoke was good for sickness, she didn’t know.
Mostly what she would do is pray.She was a woman of faith after all.She believed in miracles.And if she prayed with a pure heart, entreating God to save this poor infant, surely He would intervene to save the child’s life.
True to her fears, when Finlay opened the door, a cloud of smoke coiled out.
“Leave the door open,” she and Adam said simultaneously.
She cocked a surprised brow at him.Perhaps he believed as she did, that sick people thrived on fresh air.
She waved away the smoke as she stepped into the cottage.By the fire was a wan young woman with a pinched face holding a swaddled bairn.
“They’re here to help, Ma,” Finlay said.“I’d stay, but the laird needs me at the keep.”
The woman looked confused.It probably wasn’t every day a nobleman and a lady stepped into her cottage.But she was too desperate to question their motives.
“My bairn is so sick, m’lady,” she whimpered.“Can ye do anythin’?”
Eve rushed forward to take the bairn from her.The wee lad was pale, struggling to breathe.His lips had a bluish cast, no doubt from lack of breath.“He needs fresh air.”
She carried him toward the door while Adam flung open the shutters on the two windows.
The young woman clasped her hands over her mouth.“Are ye sure?”
Eve nodded.That was one thing of which she was certain.Perhaps theonlything.
