Page 33 of Highland Jewel
She stared into his blue eyes, nearly black in the darkness of Edinburgh’s streets. Theywouldconvince them. He was the worthiest man she knew.
Niall brushed a finger across her cheek. He touched her bottom lip, still wet from his last kiss. She shuddered. His lips lowered to hers again, this time gently. Caressing, nibbling at the fullness of her lip.
“Maisie.”
He dug his fingers into her hair, cupping the back of her neck, bringing her mouth closer, teasing the seam of her lips with his tongue.
She surrendered. A soft moan escaped her throat, her eyes closed, and her hands moved around his neck as he deepened the kiss. She wanted him. She wanted thisman in her life. The sharp words of Archibald echoed in her mind. Maisie pressed her lips harder against Niall’s. She wanted to forget the obstacles they would need to overcome. She wanted only to be lost in this moment, in this man.
Niall gathered her closer in his arms until there was not a breath of air left between them. Their mouths danced in a passionate rhythm that continued until the carriage finally lurched to a stop.
It took them a moment to break free of the spell both were caught in. Niall traced her lips with his fingers as if he were tempted to kiss her again.
“I believe we’ve reached your street.”
Her street, she thought. But not for much longer. Maisie’s hands withdrew slowly from around him, and she tried to move off his lap. But he held her there.
“Tell me when I can call on your sister and brother-in-law. I’m looking forward to talking with them.”
Maisie nodded, her fingers quickly going to her hair, tucking in tendrils that she imagined had come loose. She would have to do her own convincing. She was not about to let Niall be rejected or humiliated or treated in any way less than he deserved. She’d speak to them tonight, she decided. As soon as she went in.
“I’ll let you know when you can come.”
CHAPTER11
Considering the hour, Maisie expected to see fewer windows lit, but it appeared the entire household was awake.
The Infirmary Street house had two entrances. Most visitors and patients used the street door, which led in to the central foyer and a number of rooms on either side. One of the front rooms was used as a surgery, and the others for consulting and examinations and treatment. The injured and the sick came at all hours of the day, and it made no difference whether they could pay or not. One of the two doctors would see them and tend to their needs, usually assisted by students from the university. A door leading into the kitchens from a small garden and the back alleyway was primarily used by the servants and Archibald’s radical friends, who often met at the house.
Lately, however, the garden door had seen increasing use as a way of bringing in patients suffering from the effects of interrogation and torture at the hands of the authorities. Neither Archibald nor Isabella wanted government spies to know they were administering treatment totheir victims. Everyone seemed to think using the back door would attract less attention. Maisie kept her opinions to herself, but after her encounter near the printer’s, she had little doubt the authorities were already aware of what was going on here.
Maisie usually used that door as well, going in through the kitchens. Tonight, as she turned the corner, she saw the cart. The driver, a man she’d seen before, was eyeing her nervously by the head of an ancient horse. Recognizing her, he doffed his cap and mumbled a greeting as she went in.
If she was concerned about anyone noticing her arrival, she needn’t have been. The house was in an uproar. As she shed her cloak and hat, Archibald’s voice rang out to Morrigan to hurry.
At this time of the night, none of the medical students were around, and a maid rushed back into the kitchen. Maisie stared at the bloody cloths in the bowl she was carrying.
Anything she planned to say to Isabella was immediately dismissed as she heard her call out for help from one of the examination rooms.
She hurried to the open doorway, and her steps faltered for a moment. A man lay moaning on the bench while his blood dripped onto the floor. Isabella’s gaze darted toward her for only an instant.
“They’re heating water, but I need my surgical kit.” The patient was trying to rise from the bed. “Then I need you back here to help me hold him steady.”
This wasn’t the first time Maisie had assisted her sister, but it was never during surgery. In the hallway, she saw the kitchen maid and ordered her to bring water to her sister as soon as it boiled. Hurrying to the room used as a ward, Maisie saw three patients with various injuries lying on the cots. Archibald was moving fromone to the next, with Morrigan beside him, fetching whatever he needed.
Head injuries, a badly broken arm. Maisie didn’t go near them but moved quickly to the cabinet where her sister’s instruments were kept.
“I’m glad you’re back. They need our help.” Morrigan was standing beside her, taking rolls of bandages off a shelf.
“What happened?”
“They’re weavers. They were brought in just a few minutes ago. Men with clubs attacked them as they came out of a committee meeting. All of them have taken hard blows. They’re badly bruised and one has a broken arm. At least one knife wound. Father is still examining them. More were injured, but these are the worst.”
“Who did this?”
“They think their attackers were members of the yeomanry.”
Morrigan was called back by Archibald, and Maisie hurried into the examination room with the case of instruments and bandaging cloths. There was no sign of the maid, but a bowl of steaming water sat on a table near her sister and the patient.
