Page 9 of Highland Sword
“No, I’mnot!” Morrigan denied loudly. She draped the wet shift over the screen. Quickly, she began pulling on the dry one.
“You’ll see, as soon as she comes out of hiding,” Maisie retorted. “Her mouth is bruised, and her lip is badly swollen.”
“You’re exaggerating.” Morrigan tried to make less of it.
“I’m not,” Maisie contradicted. “I think her nose is broken. It looks quite crooked to me.”
“My nose has never been straight, thank you.”
“There was nothing wrong with your nose before,” Isabella replied, her tone rising with concern.
“I think she may have lost teeth, but the swollen lip makes it difficult to tell.”
The wet dress disappeared over the top of the screen.
“This is ridiculous. I didn’t lose any teeth.”
“Whom were you chasing?” Isabella demanded.
Morrigan shoved her arms into the sleeves of the clean dress. She knew she had only one chance at an explanation.It had to be believable. Would she chase after a child trying to pick her pocket? That wouldn’t do. There were too many hungry children on the streets who would do anything to survive. Was she accosted by a sailor or a tradesman? No, that would simply get Blair and Searc in trouble.
“Look at all the blood!” Maisie exclaimed.
She must have found the handkerchief in the pocket. Morrigan had to face these two. There was no avoiding it. She stepped around the divider as she buttoned her dress.
Isabella stood staring for a few moments, speechless. Her anger was evident in the scarlet rash spreading from her throat into her cheeks. Unlike Morrigan, the young doctor used to be adept at controlling her temper, but she was a different woman from the one she once was.
“Who did this to you? By heaven, I’m going to make them suffer. They were supposed to take care of you. Protect you. Watch you every minute.”
Morrigan imagined Isabella rushing down to the Great Hall in search of Blair and Searc and the other men with every intention of thrashing them soundly.
“It looks far worse than it is,” Morrigan said calmly. “Let me wash my face first and you’ll see.”
It took a few moments for the young doctor to quiet her temper, but after inhaling a few deep breaths, the protective tigress in Isabella subsided slightly, allowing the physician in her to surface. She sat Morrigan in a chair by the hearth and held the candle closer. “Tell me what hurts.”
“Nothing hurts.” She forced herself not to flinch when Isabella touched the side of her chin.
“I know of no woman who is physically tougher than you, my love. But right now, I need to see how much damage was done.”
Morrigan gave herself over to Isabella’s ministrations.Her head was moved from side to side. Her mouth was opened gingerly, her teeth checked. The bruise on her forehead touched. Maisie placed a towel and bowl of water at her sister’s elbow. The care continued. The cut on her lip was cleaned. She had a scratch on the side of her face that she hadn’t even been aware of, and there were other cuts and bruises on her wrist and hand, all from trying to control the fall.
“You’re going to need to keep cold compresses on your face to reduce the swelling.”
Looking up into Isabella’s focused and caring expression, emotions rose and filled Morrigan’s chest. There was so much she wanted to talk about and confide in these two women. But she couldn’t. Before they came into her life, she had only her father. He was a busy man, a dedicated radical and an activist who fought for the rights of common folk who were suffering from economic hardship. He pushed for reform and a voice for the people in government through assemblies, marches, and protests.
When it came to issues of their own lives, however, he didn’t want any discussions. He wanted their problems buried, and Morrigan had followed his lead. She’d kept her own counsel and refused to wallow in past things she couldn’t change. But he was gone now, and she’d been left to deal with the squalid aspects of life. It had never been easy. But it was worse now, especially today, seeing that foul man standing a dozen steps away.Robert Sparrow.Knowing he still lived and breathed brought back the same anger and hurt she’d felt at Maggot Green.
“You are hurting. And I’m not only talking of your bruises. Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
Isabella’s soft voice pierced Morrigan’s heart. She wanted desperately to talk about the past, but the tightness in her throat wouldn’t allow the words to form.
Maisie’s voice cut into the momentary silence. “Are these the reason you were chasing after someone today?”
The flyers she’d stuffed into her coat. Maisie was unfolding them. One trouble was replaced by another. Morrigan shook her head once at the younger woman, but it was too late. Isabella saw the pages.
Ever since the first of these showed up in Inverness, Searc had ordered her and Blair and the men not to mention them to anyone at Dalmigavie Castle. Especially to Isabella. With Cinaed traveling right now, he didn’t want her to worry about this nonsense. Morrigan had seen the wisdom in his direction. It was too late now, however.
Isabella glided across the room to her sister, and the two stared for a long time at each sheet of paper. Inwardly, Morrigan cringed, recalling the images. She thought how difficult it must be for Isabella to see these horrible depictions of the man she loved.
