Page 51 of The Cruel Highlander's Healer
She stepped back, holding Eliza at arm’s length as her eyes swept over her.
“What are ye doin’ here?” the Witch of the Wood continued. “Where have ye been? Imagine my surprise, returnin’ home to find the place a mess. The dishes still in the sink, nae dried, nae put away. The door left hangin’ wide open. I thought for sure someone had stolen ye away!”
Conall shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Eliza’s eyes flicked to him as if of their own accord. Marissa’s posture went rigid, and slowly, she turned to face him.
Grey eyes landed directly on him and the woman stepped to the side, her gaze flickering between Eliza to Conall and then back again. He could almost see the thoughts warring in the woman’s mind as she tried to figure out what was going on.
“Marissa,” Eliza said delicately, moving so that she could position herself between Conall and her adopted mother. “This is Laird Conall Shaw of MacKinnon. He came to the house and he…”
She paused, her cheeks flushing. For a moment, Conall thought for sure that she was going to tell Marissa everything. What would the old woman do?
His eyes flicked down to her hands, noting her sharp fingernails that looked suspiciously like claws. There was no doubt in Conall’s mind that he could overpower her if it came to it. She was rather small, after all.
But he didn’t want to. He did not make a habit out of rough housing with petite older women.
“He asked for my help,” Eliza finished in a rush, seeming to decide against telling Marissa exactly what had happened. “The bairns of his land had fallen ill. And I got so caught up in it all that we left in a rush.”
Marissa narrowed her eyes. Conall wondered if she could sense the lie.
Her gaze continued to dart between the two of them. Tense seconds tick by, but eventually, Marissa nods.
“Ye should have left a note,” she said, whirling to glare at her daughter.
Eliza nodded, an apologetic expression fixing itself onto her lovely face.
“I ken,” she admitted. “I should have done a lot of things differently. And I’m sorry that I worried ye. It willnae happen again.”
Marissa huffed. “Ye make sure that it doesnae.”
Conall took that moment to step forward, addressing the Witch of the Wood directly.
“Eliza understood the urgency,” he said confidently, the woman’s grey eyes flicking to him. “The bairns of my lands, they would have died if it wasnae for her. We owe her quite a lot.”
“Where are the bairns?” she asked, her gaze flicking over his shoulder as if she might find the sick children just beyond the gardens.
“Back at the castle,” Eliza explained, stepping forward so that she was standing beside Conall.
“If they’re at the castle, what are ye doin’ here, in the village?” Marissa’s pale brows pulled together, and she cocked her head, studying her daughter.
Conall got the sense that Marissa knew she wasn’t getting the full story. But she seemed hell-bent on not interrogating her daughter too terribly. He had no doubt, though, that it would come later.
“The people here had fallen ill as well,” Eliza explained. “They have the same symptoms, and the councilman asked me to come. Laird MacKinnon graciously escorted me here so I could care for them.”
Marissa nodded, grey eyes sparking with interest at the sound that there were people here in need of healing.
“I’d like to see them.”
She didn’t pose it as a request, and she stared at Eliza expectantly. Conall cleared his throat.
“I’ll show ye to them.”
Marissa nodded, looping her arm through her daughters as the pair followed after Conall. He walked them back through the labyrinth like streets, cutting the familiar path back toward the town square.
It didn’t take long before the tops of the tents came into view. When they stepped into it, Isabel, Louisa, and Sheena were gone.
Many of the patients were still sitting up in their cots, but some had laid down to nap.
Marissa wasted no time as she rushed forward, making quick work of examining the closest man. Eliza stepped back, keeping close to Conall.
