“Come, lass,” he muttered. “Time for sleep.”
He took her weight as they made their way from the infirmary and back into the main keep. One of the healers had wrapped his chest in tight bandages, but the pain from his cracked rib was still enough to make him gasp with each step. Rosaline and Ingrid came to meet them at the doors, enquiring after Jenna’s welfare and the rumors they’d heard of what was happening at the infirmary. Arran waved away their questions and helped Jenna up the stairs to her chamber.
She sank down onto the bed with a grateful sigh. “I don’t know about you, but I’m knackered,” she said with a wry smile. “I haven’t done that much healing in years. Wasn’t sure I still had it in me to be honest.”
Arran shook his head. “I’ve never seen aught like it. Ye do realize that when word of this gets out, ye will have a line of patients a mile long?”
Jenna groaned. “Don’t joke about it. I’d forgotten how exhausting it is. I think I might sleep for a fortnight.”
“And ye would be within yer rights to do so, lass. I didnae know the MacFinnan magic could heal like that.”
Jenna shrugged. “It’s what I was trained for. I used to help my mother when I was younger. But it’s not infallible. It can’t heal everything.” Her expression clouded, an old pain flashing in her eyes. “I haven’t used it in a long time.”
“Why not?” he asked softly.
Jenna’s gaze met his eyes and that old pain shone clear and bright within hers. “In my time, we have medicine that can heal better than the magic can. And besides, it failed me when I needed it the most.”
She looked down, fiddling with her hands in her lap. Arran wanted to ask her what she meant, but sensed she did not want to talk about it.
“I’ll leave ye to sleep and I’ll ask Ingrid not to wake ye till late tomorrow. I think it safe to say ye’ve earned a bit of rest.”
“Wait!” She caught his wrist. “I need to show you something. That’s why I came to look for you earlier.” She stuck her arm up her sleeve and pulled out a parchment.
He unrolled it and held it close to his face to make out the words in the candlelight. “It’s just a land grant.”
“That’s what I thought at first, but look at the bottom.”
“It’s a map of the island showing the area of land bestowed in the grant. What of it?”
“Look more closely!” Jenna said, her exhaustion seeming to fall away as she broke into an excited grin. “You see those symbols marked around the coast? Those are the anchor stones; I’m sure of it!”
Now that he examined it more closely, he saw that Jenna wasright. Each of those symbols was marked by the word clach, which meant stone. Could she be right? Could this have been what they had been searching for? He traced his finger from Dun Tabor to the nearest stone.
“That’s only a few miles south of here,” he said, looking at Jenna.
“I know,” she said, practically bouncing on the edge of the bed. “We need to go there as soon as possible.”
“And we will. Tomorrow. I dinna think I’m the only one who is likely to collapse if he doesnae get some sleep soon. Rest, lass. We’ll go in the morning.”
Jenna nodded, then flopped back onto the bed, limbs spread-eagled and hair spread around her head like a halo. “First thing though, right? I don’t want to waste any time. I guess I’m not gonna get that fortnight of sleep after all. No rest for the wicked, eh?”
“Nay, lass,” he agreed with a smile. “No rest for the wicked. Sleep well, lass. I’ll see ye in the morning.”
She raised her head and looked at him. “Good night, Arran.”
The sight of her like that on the bed, with her tousled hair spread across the pillow, sent an ache of desire through him. Before he could do or say something stupid, he walked to the door and yanked it open.
“Good night, Jenna.”
With that, he hurried down the corridor towards his own rooms, deciding that it would probably be a good idea to dunk his head in cold water before he went to bed.
Chapter Twelve
Jenna yawned wideenough to crack her jaw and loud enough to send a flock of crows winging into the air in fright. Some of Arran’s men, riding around them in a tight formation, glanced at her in alarm.
“Sorry,” she said with a sheepish smile.
She had slept like a stone after Arran had left her last night, not waking until Ingrid came in this morning with her breakfast. Yet she was still exhausted. Her eyes felt grainy, her thoughts thick and sludgy, and her limbs ached as though she’d gone ten rounds with a heavyweight.
