Page 47 of Highland Renegade
“Fiona told me that the lady was nae conscious when ye brought her to the room. Do ye have any idea how long she was such?”
“Just a few minutes,” Ian answered. “I was still in the Great Hall when I heard her scream and fall. I brought her directly here.”
Notdirectly, Emily thought and tried not to smile. There had been the kiss…
The healer studied him and, as Emily watched, a slight flush crossed his face. For a moment, she wondered if he was thinking the same thing.
“Just a few minutes,” he reaffirmed.
“’Tis good, then. Even so, ’tis hard to ken how hard she hit her head when she fell.” The healer rummaged in the knapsack she’d brought and pulled out two small bags of herbs. “I will make a poultice of comfrey and foxglove to help with the swelling, but ye must be sure the lady stays awake for the rest of the day.” She looked at Emily. “Just last year I treated a young man with a blow to his head. I cautioned his father to keep him awake, but he didna listen. The lad didna wake up.”
The words had a chilling effect, which was probably just what Old Gwendolyn had intended. “I will stay awake.”
“I will make sure she does,” Ian added.
Lorelei pointed to her sister. “We will sit with her, too.”
“Aye. See that ye do.” The healer looked satisfied that she’d instilled enough fear into them. “I will go then and make the poultice.”
After she left, Ian pulled up a chair by the window. Fiona gave him a curious look. “’Tis sheaving day. Are ye nae going to go check on the fields?”
“My brothers can handle it. I doona think they’ve left yet, so ye can tell them.”
As much as Emily liked the fact that he wanted to stay, she also didn’t want his clansmen thinking he was neglecting his duties because of her. “Really, if you have matters to attend to—”
“I am staying.”
Lorelei stared at him. “This is not proper.”
He raised a brow. “’Tis my home. I say what is proper.”
Juliana pursed her mouth. “You are almost as arrogant as your brother.”
His brow went slightly higher. “I assume ye mean Rory?”
Surprisingly, Emily saw a faint blush on her sister’s cheeks. Of course, it could have been anger, since Juliana tossed her head. “He would be the one.”
A corner of his mouth quirked, but before he could answer, someone knocked. Fiona opened the door to find Hamish standing there.
“What is it?” Ian asked.
“’Tis a problem at the distillery. One of the wash backs has developed a crack. Broderick asks that ye come at once.”
“Damnation.” Ian rose. The wash backs were where the fermenting of the sweet syrup extracted from the mash tuns was turned into alcohol. If the pine vat had a crack and the liquid started leaking, it would mean they would have less whisky to distill. Not good when they’d just signed a contract to sell a good amount to White’s. And, with the harvesting coming to a finish, he couldn’t afford to call in hands to help repair it.
“Go.” Even as she spoke, a maid appeared with the poultice and tea. “As you can see, I will be fine.”
He hesitated, then finally nodded. “I will be back as soon as I can.”
A warm feeling enveloped her as she leaned against the headboard and sipped the strong tea, poultice balanced on her head. Even if Ian couldn’t stay, it was his intention that was important. And, besides, they couldn’t afford to lose a batch of whisky.
She sipped more tea contentedly. It really was quite good.
…
It was a good thing Broderick had sent for him, after all, Ian thought as he started to ride home a little over an hour later. The crack in the pine had been fresh, not completely gone through the thickness of the wood, and they had been able to repair it without wasting any of the fermenting barley.
He had barely crossed the old drawbridge and entered the bailey when the heavy wooden door to the castle flew open and Fiona bounded down the steps. From the expression on her face, he knew something was wrong. He reined in and slid off the stallion at the same time.
