The sick in the southern village were recovering—slowly, but recovering—thanks to the clean water and basic remedies she'd been able to provide. But Ada knew her limitations. She needed proper supplies. Herbs. Tinctures. The kind of knowledge that came from years of training, not just months of learning while running from her father's men.
"Me lady?"
Ada turned. Donnan stood at the end of the corridor, that easy smile on his face that never quite reached his eyes.
God, what daes he want now?!
Her stomach tightened. "Donnan."
"I was hopin' tae find ye." He moved closer, and Ada resisted the urge to step back. “Tae see how ye are daein’.”
"I'm fine."
"Are ye?" Donnan's gaze swept over her, lingering just a moment too long. "Because from where I'm standin', it looks like ye've been workin' yerself tae exhaustion. Ridin' out tae villages, tendin' the sick. That's nae proper work fer a lady."
"I'm a healer." Ada kept her voice level. "Or I'm tryin' tae be. And the people needed help."
"Aye, well. Yer faither wouldnae approve."
"Me faither daesnae care what I dae, as long as I'm out of his sight and makin' him look good at court." The words came out sharper than she'd intended. "Why are ye really here, Donnan? Why are ye always... around?"
Donnan's smile widened slightly. "I told ye before, me lady. Yer faither wants tae make sure ye're safe. That ye're being treated well. He asked me tae stay on Barra fer a while, keep an eye on things."
"Keep an eye on me, ye mean."
"If that's how ye want tae put it." Donnan leaned against the wall, too casual, too comfortable. "Though I'd say it's more about keepin' ye safe. These Norse lairds, they're nae like Highland men. They're savage. Unpredictable. And yer intended husband..." He lowered his voice. "Well. Ye've heard the rumors about what happened tae his first wife."
Ada's hands clenched at her sides. "Those are just rumors."
"Are they?" Donnan's expression turned serious. "I'm nae sayin' the laird would hurt ye, me lady. But I am sayin' that if ye ever felt unsafe, if ye ever needed help gettin' away from here... I'd help ye. Yer faither would want that."
The words should have been comforting. Should have felt like protection, like someone caring about her wellbeing.
Instead, they made Ada's skin crawl.
"I dinnae need help," she said firmly. "And I dinnae need ye followin' me around the keep. I'm perfectly capable of takin' care of meself."
"Of course, ye are." Donnan pushed off the wall. "But I'll be around anyway. Just in case."
He walked past her, close enough that his shoulder nearly brushed hers. Ada held her ground, refusing to flinch away.
Ada didn't trust Donnan. She didn't trust his easy smiles or his concerned words or his constant presence hovering at the edges of her vision. Her father had sent him there for a reason, and it wasn't to ensure her safety.
Magnus rode into the southern village as the sun climbed toward its peak.
The well stood closed, just as he'd ordered—heavy wooden boards nailed across the opening, two guards posted nearby. The village itself seemed quieter than it had been yesterday. Less panic. More resignation.
That was good. Panic bred mistakes. Resignation at least allowed for clear thinking.
"Me laird." One of the guards straightened as Magnus dismounted. "The well's been sealed tight. Nay one's gone near it."
"Good. How are the sick?"
"Better, from what I hear. Lady Ada's been checkin' on them regularly. Says most of the fever's broken."
Magnus nodded, relief settling in his chest. They had been right about the water. If they'd waited even another day before closing the well...
He didn't want to think about how many more might have gotten sick or even died.
