“Some sputum. Some blood,” Aiden’s mother admitted, worrying her dress harder.
Jeane hummed in the back of her throat. “How long has he been sick?”
“All his life,” Aiden’s mother mourned. “I fear he’s nae got long in this world.”
Fergus watched as Jeane stepped forward, taking Aiden’s mother’s hands in her own.
“I fear ye’re right, Me Lady,” Jeane said gently. “It’s his lungs. They’re filled with fluid instead of air. He will need a lot of care.”
“But will he live?” the woman asked in a raspy whisper.
Jeane hesitated. “I cannae say for sure. I daenae think he will ever be able to run around and play like other boys his age. His lungs seem too weak for that.”
The mother gave a small, bitter smile. “Aye, lass. We ken that much. Me Ian has never been like the other boys.”
Fergus froze. Wasn’t what was wrong with Ian also wrong with Lottie? Would she fail to thrive, fail to live a normal life?
Jeane rifled around in her bag, handing the woman a few draughts.
“This one, ye’ll give to him in the mornin’. The other, the evenin’.”
“Aye,” the mother nodded and took them gratefully. “Thank ye so much, Me Laird,” she said, looking over at Fergus.
Fergus nodded. “Yer welcome, but thank the lass, nae me.”
“Thank ye, healer,” the mother said, and Jeane nodded and turned to check on Ian once more. The boy did not wake.
“I will be back in two days’ time,” Jeane said.
“Thank ye,” Aiden’s mother said again, squeezing Jeane’s hands, and Jeane smiled at her.
Aiden nodded at Fergus, and Fergus knew he’d be seeing him at the council meeting at midnight. For now, Aiden stayed behind with his family.
As they walked out of the small room, Jeane turned her head toward Fergus.
“I ken what ye’re thinkin’.”
“Do ye, little mouse?”
“Lottie isnae the same as Ian,” she said quickly, and something tight in Fergus’ chest relaxed. “She was struck ill. Ian has been ill all his life. Was probably born with bad lungs. It’ll take a long time for him to recover, and he will never be like other boys because of the length of time he’s been sick.”
Fergus nodded. “Aye, he’s been strugglin’ since he was a wee babe.”
“Lottie can recover more easily,” Jeane assured him. “But it is dangerous. I will have to keep a close eye on her. And Ian, too. I will need more supplies.”
“Aye. Anythin’ ye need, little mouse. I had the staff clean out Morna’s room before I went out yesterday. Ye’ll live in the castle, close to Lottie’s quarters.”
Jeane blinked at him. “Ye want me to live at the McCloud castle?”
“Ye will,” Fergus said easily. “Ye did well in there. Ye had to give bad news, and ye did it respectfully. Ye will be a good healer.”
Jeane frowned. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Aye. Take it or leave it.”
Fergus held up a hand to help her mount the horse, and she took it, her fingers small and cold in his.
“Ye’re still cold,” he said. “I will have the staff bring ye some of Lottie’s wool dresses.”
