Cailean hadn’t noticed her and Mable standing there, his attention fixed wholly on his opponent. He’d tied his hair back with a leather band and his smooth features were set in a fierce scowl of concentration as he hit and parried and danced, moving as lightly as a ballet dancer, despite his size. Andnobodyshould be allowed to have a body that fine, all smooth skin and sculpted muscle. Rose found herself staring and pointedly looked away.
Cailean’s opponent suddenly noticed the two women standing there. He backed away and hoisted his staff to rest on his shoulder,nodding towards her and Mable. Cailean turned. His gaze met hers across the distance and damn her if she didn’t suddenly feel a tingle run all the way down her spine.
Cailean tossed his staff to the other man. “Good session, Brock.”
“Was it?” Brock replied, catching Cailean’s staff. “Yer footwork is slow today, my laird. And yer balance could do with some work.”
Cailean smiled wryly. “Brock, according to ye, my balance couldalwaysdo with some work.”
“Just so. I’ll expect ye back here in the morning for another session.”
Cailean inclined his head. “As ye say, weapons master.”
Brock grunted, hoisted both staffs across his shoulders, and walked off, nodding to Rose and Mable as he walked by. Cailean picked up his shirt from where he’d dropped it, pulled it over his head, and then walked over to them.
“Rose,” Cailean greeted them stiffly. “Mable.”
Mable dropped a curtsey. “My lord. Lady Rose asked to see ye.”
His deep gaze moved to Rose. “My thanks, Mable. That will be all.”
The girl curtseyed again and hurried away, leaving Rose alone with Cailean. Silence descended and Rose cast around for something to say.
They ended up speaking at exactly the same time.
“Thank you for lending me the clothes.”
“Ye are happy with yer room?”
“Ye are welcome.”
“It’s very nice. Thanks.”
Silence descended again. Rose shifted her feet uncomfortably.
“Um… you said you’d show me the infirmary?” she prompted.
He blinked. “What? Oh, aye, I did. This way then.”
They did not turn back towards the castle but took a path that skirted the outside of the training square and then across a smallstream via a wooden bridge onto a flat area beyond that was bordered by stunted trees that had clearly been battered by the wind.
Within the protection of these trees, and therefore sheltered from the wind a little, sat a long gray building with a thatched roof. Smoke rose from a chimney at one end.
“My father built the infirmary away from the main keep,” Cailean explained as they walked up to the door. “To limit the spread of disease.”
Rose nodded, approving of such precautions. “Is the sickness infectious?”
“Not as far as we can tell. That is one of the strange things about it. There seems to be no rhyme nor reason to who gets it and who doesnae. There have been many instances where one family member falls ill but nobody else in the household does.”
Rose digested this in silence, filing it away with the rest of the information she’d gleaned so far.
Cailean pushed the door open. Beyond, Rose found herself in a dim, cool room filled with the scent of lavender and comfrey from bunches that hung from the rafters. Even so, it was not enough to hide the stench of sickness and it smacked into Rose like a hammer blow.
There were six beds in here but only one was occupied. Two women were standing over the bed and Rose recognized Maggie, the woman who’d met her on the beach, and Sister Beatrice in her white nun’s habit.
They appeared to be arguing, both gesticulating wildly, but they straightened as they heard the door open.
Maggie’s face lit up when she spotted them. “Rose! My laird! Welcome, welcome. Come to see the patient?”
