"That's nae the whole truth."
She was quiet for a moment. Then, "Because bein' a healer is the only thing I've ever wanted. The only thing that's ever been mine, nae somethin' me faither chose fer me or forced on me. And if I have tae marry ye, if I have tae be lady of this keep, thenI need tae ken ye will still dae let me dae that. Help people. Be useful in a way that matters."
Magnus studied her face. "Ye think I'd stop ye?"
"I dinnae ken what ye'd dae. Most men wouldnae want their wives workin' as healers. It's nae proper. Nae ladylike."
"I'm nae most men." Magnus's voice was quiet but firm. "If ye want tae heal, then heal. I willnae stop ye. Me people need a good healer more than they need a proper lady who daes nothin' but embroider and plan feasts."
Ada's breath caught. "Ye... ye truly mean that?"
"Aye."
For the second time that day, Ada found herself seeing Magnus Haraldson as something other than the cold, ruthless jarl everyone claimed he was.
He was still guarded, still distant in many ways. But beneath that icy exterior was a man who cared deeply about his people. A man who valued skill and competence over propriety and tradition.
A man she might actually be able to respect. Maybe even trust.
"Thank ye," she said softly.
Magnus nodded once. "Get some rest. Tomorrow we'll send word tae the other villages tae check their wells."
Then he was gone, the door closing softly behind him.
Ada sat on the edge of the bed, her torn skirt pooled around her, her body aching with exhaustion. But for the first time since she'd arrived on Barra, she felt something that might have been relief.
Maybe this marriage wouldn't be a prison after all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Close the southern well immediately."
Magnus stood at the head of the council table, his hands braced against the scarred wood. Around him sat his most trusted men—Torvald, his steward Fergus, the captain of his guard Hamish, and two village elders who'd ridden up from the coast.
"Post guards on it," Magnus continued. "Nay one drinks from it, nay one draws water, nay one even approaches it until we ken exactly what's in there."
"And the sick?" Fergus asked, his weathered face creased with concern.
"Lady Ada has set up a healin' station in the elder's cottage. She'll tend tae them until Mairi returns from Lewis." Magnus straightened. "In the meantime, I want fresh water delivered daily from the northern well. Clean buckets, clean barrels.Naethin’ that's touched the southern well gets anywhere near the sick."
Hamish leaned forward. "Ye think someone poisoned it deliberately?"
"I dinnae ken what tae think yet. But the sickness spread too fast, too evenly. And Lady Ada noticed somethin' in the water—a smell, somethin' that shouldnae be there." Magnus looked around the table. "Until we ken more, we treat it as deliberate. Which means we check every well on Barra. Every stream, every spring. If someone's tryin' tae poison me people, I want tae ken about it before anyone else gets sick."
The men nodded grimly. They'd all heard stories of wells being poisoned during clan feuds, a coward's weapon, but effective. If someone wanted to weaken Barra, sicken its people and make Magnus look like a laird who couldn't protect his own, contaminating the water supply would be a good start.
"Send riders tae the other villages," Magnus said. "Tell them tae boil all drinkin’ water until we've checked their wells. And I want samples brought back here fer Mairi tae test when she returns."
"That could take days," one of the elders protested.
"It will take what it takes. I willnae risk more lives on assumptions." Magnus's tone left no room for argument. "Fergus, make sure the affected families have enough food and firewood. They'll be quarantined until the fever breaks."
"Aye, me laird."
"Hamish, double the guard on the southern well. If anyone tries tae tamper with it further, I want them caught."
"Aye, me laird."
