“No man has ever tempted you to want both?”
With her fair hair and skin, it was impossible for Muriel to completely hide the heat that rose in her cheeks. Though she was five and twenty, her delicate features and big blue eyes gave her an appearance of a girl much younger.
“Nay,” she said firmly. “I’m not sure it is possible to have two lives—one as a wife and one as a healer. And no one has ever made me an offer that I was tempted to try.”
It was an odd way of phrasing it, but Helen thought of something else. “What of children? I’ve seen how much you love them. Do you never want any of your own?”
The look of raw pain that flashed in Muriel’s eyes disappeared so quickly, Helen wondered if she’d imagined it.
Muriel looked straight ahead and shook her head. “Nay. God has given me another path. I will never have children.”
There was a finality to her voice Helen didn’t understand. Muriel rarely talked about her past, but Helen suspected she had one. She and her father, the famous Nicholas de Corwenne, had arrived at Dunrobin about ten years ago. It had seemed a boon to have such a venerable physician agree to move from Edinburgh to the wilds of northern Scotland—even if it was to be the personal physician of an earl. Now, Helen wondered if there had been another reason.
“And what of you, Helen? What will you do?”
The question startled her. It made it seem as though she had a choice. But women in her position had a duty to marry to further the interests of the clan. The only other “choice” was a convent. She couldn’t do what she wanted, even if she knew what that was. She wanted…everything.
Silly lass. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she be content with her lot like other women in her position? She had wealth and position, a family who cared about her, a man who would marry her and give her children…it should be enough. But the subject made her feel restless and anxious.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Stay here, I suppose, until Will marries.” Though her brother was nearing his thirty-second saint’s day, he still had not married. She thought Muriel stiffened at her side, but when Helen glanced over she realized she had been mistaken. “Then…I don’t know.”
“The earl is planning to marry?”
Something in her voice made Helen look at her. Was her face a little pale? She frowned. “Not that I know, but I would not be surprised if that is one of the reasons for the king’s visit.”
Marriage alliances were one of the ways in which the king was ensuring the support of his barons. He was fortunate to have many sisters.
They were close enough to the castle to hear the first shout go up from the guard along the wall.
“Riders approach! ’Tis the Lion Rampant!”
The king! Helen looked around to the south, seeing the dot of riders appear on the horizon. “Come,” she said, gripping her friend’s arm. “We must go inside to properly greet him.” She looked down at her plain woolen dress, wrinkled from being tied between her legs as they stomped through the marshy heather. Instinctively, her hands went to her hair. She’d tied it haphazardly in a knot at the top of her head, but most of it had come loose.
Not much of an impression for the lady of the keep. Her appearance today would certainly encourage Will to take a wife, if that was what the king intended.
Muriel tried to beg off. “I think I will just return—”
“Nonsense,” Helen said, taking her arm and pulling her alongside her. “Don’t you wish to see the king?”
She didn’t give her an opportunity to argue. They entered thebarmkinjust as her brothers and Donald were making their way down the stairs. Will had called Kenneth back from Skelbo, their stronghold at the mouth of Loch Fleet ten miles south, as soon as he’d received the king’s message.
She saw Will stiffen as soon as he saw them. She could see his disapproval as he took in her disheveled appearance, but she knew there was more to it than that. It was Muriel. The tension in the air seemed to go up a dozen notches whenever they were together. It hadn’t always been that way, she realized. But lately, Will became stiff and cold whenever she was around—even more so than usual. Saints, he could be austere and imposing!
Helen didn’t understand why he’d taken such an active dislike to their healer. They were lucky to have her, and if he kept acting like this they were going to lose her.
“Good God, Helen, what have you been doing?” He ignored Muriel completely.
Helen lifted her chin, refusing to be bullied by her stern older brother. “Tending to the ankle of one of your clansmen.”
He shot Muriel a glare as if this were her fault. “I’ll thank you to remember that my sister has her own duties to attend.” His gaze could have cut ice. “She will be lady of the keep.”
Muriel flinched as if he’d struck some kind of invisible blow. “I am well aware of that, my lord.”
Though there was nothing outwardly disrespectful in her tone, Helen heard it nonetheless. “This is part of my duty, as you well know, Will. Do not blame Muriel; it was I who insisted I stay when she urged me to return.”
“Leave her alone, brother. She doesn’t look too bad,” Kenneth said. Helen suspected there was supposed to be a compliment in there somewhere. “The flower is a nice touch.”
Helen felt her cheeks redden, conscious of Donald, who stood in his familiar position at Will’s right shoulder.
