‘Tell you what?’
‘That you are no longer the healer. My hands—’He broke off his own words, closing his eyes with the pain. Aileen stoked the fire, hanging a pot of water to boil.
‘They’re hurting you. I know. It’s the swelling.’
He struggled to stand, his balance swaying.
‘Sit down. You’ve a fever.’ Aileen eased him back down.
She mixed herbs together that were good for fever, including willow bark. Adding the boiling water to a wooden cup, she steeped the mixture and allowed it to cool.
When it was ready, she raised it to his lips to drink. He winced at the bitter taste, never taking his eyes from her. There was weariness and pain in his eyes.
‘Kyna taught me all she knew,’ Aileen said. ‘There is nothing wrong with my skills.’
‘Isn’t there?’
She heard the accusation in his voice, but refused to back down. ‘Do you truly wish for Illona Ó Banníon to treat your hands?’
The frustration and fury in his eyes were damning. Aileen busied herself with the pot, suddenly realising that she had prepared nothing for the evening meal. For the past two moons, she had only herself to care for. More often than not, she simply ate a bit of bread or vegetables from her garden.
‘Can I get you something to eat?’ she asked, when he’d finished the tea.
‘No. I require nothing.’ He turned his gaze away. He had shut her out of his thoughts, and Aileen knew better than to force him to eat.
‘Did you enjoy your visit with Sinead and Grania?’ she asked, trying to end the awkwardness.
‘I’ve no wish to be treated like a child, fed by hand, my pillows fluffed.’
‘I don’t recall fluffing your pillow,’ she said.
His face relaxed a little, and she watched for signs of the pain receding.
‘I suppose I have no choice but to stay here and let you tend me,’ he said. He lifted his bandaged hands, his gaze boring into hers. ‘What’s done is done. You’ve already set the bones and it cannot be changed without creating more damage.’
‘If you return home, your own healer can tend them.’ She spoke as if it were of no matter to her. But it hurt, knowing that he held no confidence in her skills. She had done everything she could to save his hands.
‘And as I’ve said, I am not returning home. I’ll lose respect among my men if they see me like this. They won’t believe I can ever wield a sword again.’
Aileen did not voice that it was a very real possibility.
He softened his tone to one of teasing. ‘And with you, there’s no worry about you trying to seduce me. You would not care, were I completely naked upon this pallet,’ he said.
Her throat closed up and Aileen tried not to imagine his body, sleek and smooth with carved muscles and a taut belly. Worse, she had never forgotten what it was like to be held by him, loved by him.
‘You are right,’ she lied. ‘Your body holds no interest for me.’ She opened the door, needing to be far away from him. He might see the truth upon her face.
‘Good. Then it’s settled. I’ll stay until I’ve healed, and then I’ll return to Laochre.’
She didn’t reply, but returned to her own hut, her cheeks burning. How could she have Connor so near each day while his wounds healed? It would be like having a husband again. While Eachan had brought her comfort and friendship, Connor intimidated her. His strong presence shadowed her, making her yearn for the things she couldn’t have.
She had borne him a child, a secret she wanted to keep. Rhiannon was a precious, stolen moment. If he learned about his daughter, he would despise her for what she’d done. She couldn’t bear to see the disgust upon his face. All she had left was her pride.
Even now, he doubted her healing skills. He wanted to stay, but only as a way of hiding himself from the world. The thought of sharing such intimate moments, living together with him for the next moon, brought back her childhood fantasies. He was everything she desired, and all that was wrong for her.
Could she be strong enough to resist him? Surely it had been so many years; it wouldn’t matter if he stayed.
But inwardly, she knew the truth. Her heart wouldn’t last a single day.
