“Can I ask,” Laura paused as she built up the courage to ask her next question, “what is exactly wrong with your brother?”
“Wrong? Many things,” Erskine shook his head. “Why ye bug him though, that…I havenae figured out yet.”
Laura decided not to ask anymore, but she still felt that eyes were watching her. She glanced back more than once, wary that perhaps Dearg was following them, but she saw no sign of him.
She half wondered if Dearg suspected who she could really be, but she dismissed the idea quickly. He was a man not afraid to state his opinion. Had he known who she was, he would have stated it loudly for everyone to hear. He clearly didn’t like the friendship between her and Erskine, but beyond that, she did not know what to think of him.
“Ah, here we are,” Erskine brought the horse to a sharp stop and pointed to a house.
Laura turned in the saddle to see a small townhouse, well presented and quite ornately built with tall glass windows and a porch over the front door. The white brick reflected the strong sunlight of the day so brightly that Laura had to squint to see it properly. It stood in the shadow of the castle above it.
“Who lives here?” Laura asked as Erskine climbed down from the saddle.
“The town’s healer, Magret,” he explained as she followed him down. He did not move far away, so when her feet touched the ground, they were standing incredibly close to one another.
He seemed to realize this at the same time, as they both just stood there, staring at one another. Laura could feel a shiver of excitement running up her spine as his gaze darted down from her eyes to her lips. He sighed deeply then looked away from her to the busy street around them. Laura followed the look, disappointed the busyness of the street had dispelled the brief moment between them.
“Ah,” he said as he flicked his head away. “Ye’ll be the death of me.”
“What?” she gasped as she followed him. “What did I do?”
“Torment me so,” he explained as he knocked on the door and leaned on the pillar of the porch.
Laura shivered again at the idea he was tormented by her as much as she was by him. Her eyes wandered too now, and she was too busy admiring the broadness of his shoulders, the narrow, muscled waist, and the brief glimpse of tanned skin she could see in the open collar of his shirt, to notice that there were sounds on the other side of the door. Not until Erskine flicked his fingers in front of her, urging her to raise his eyes to his face.
“Eyes up, Laura,” he smiled, just before the door opened.
* * *
Erskine was warmed by Laura’s appraisal of him, but it had to stop. As the door flung open, revealing Magret, Erskine turned his attention to her.
“Ah, Magret, how are ye doin’ today?”
“Erskine!” She practically jumped back from the threshold in surprise. An aging woman, her grey hair was bundled tightly at the back of her head in a high chignon, but she was still a thickly set and strong-built woman, with plump arms and quite a rounded waist. “I cannae remember the last time ye came to me door!” Her brown eyes were wide in amazement.
“I see ye most weeks, Magret,” Erksine shook his head.
“In town and at the castle, aye, but ye only come to me door when things are dire. Why- ye once ran here when ye were nay older than twelve, came runnin’ in here because of a dog bite. Bit ye on yer rear, dinnae it?”
Before Erskine could reply, he saw Laura break out in laughter at this idea.
“It was rather painful,” Erskine admitted.
“Aye, but ye dinnae wail. Never have done. Soldier’s mindset, ye see.” Magret turned her attention to Laura. “Looks like ye have brought me a visitor?”
“Aye,” Erskine turned his attention to Laura. “This is Magret, our town’s healer.”
“That I am. Ye ever have a problem, then I am the one they come to.” She nodded, smiling and holding her chin high with pride. “And yer name?”
Erskine saw Laura flick her eyes to him, silently asking which name she should give.
“Magret, can we come inside?” Erskine gestured into the house. The sudden change in topic made Magret frown.
“Ye dinnae answer me question, Laird-to-be,” Magret’s brow furrowed further. Erskine bristled at the old term she had so often called him in the past.
“I will, but inside,” Erskine pointed to the house again, and this time, the woman relented, though slowly. Erskine ushered Laura to go in first and followed behind as Magret led them into a small sitting room.
Though the house was one of the finer-built townhouses in Fort Contin, it reflected Magret’s status well. As a healer, she earned a good trade, but she was neither fine class nor bottom class. Somewhere in the middle, the house was well-kept though tiny, with few fine furnishings.
