Emma bit her lip and looked away. She had been going to comment that Laird MacPherson didn’t seem to have considered anyone else outside the Keep when he chose to lock the doors early. In hindsight, she was glad she hadn’t said it. The Laird was popular with his people.
Not with her, though. She saw straight through his posturing, his handsome face and superficial charm, and saw the selfish rake of a man inside.
Not to mention that awful nickname he’d given her.
The two women crossed the courtyard, slipping through a narrow, half-hidden doorway set in the wall beside the laundries. The air was filled with the incessant slosh of water, the diligent scrubbing of cloth on washboards, and the vague scent of hot water and soap filled the air. Emma knew from experience that the smell got sickening after a while.
She was glad to close the door behind them, shutting out the noise and smell, and escorted Delphine along the long, narrow corridor to the Healer’s Chambers.
The Chambers had originally been on one of the upper floors, but when Delphine had begun to struggle with the stairs, Emma had swallowed her pride and asked the Laird to give them rooms on the lower floors. He’d obliged, and although Delphine had been outraged at first, it was clearly a choice for the better.
Emma unlocked the door to their chambers with the heavy brass key she kept in her pocket—along with many other things, like herbs, plants, and the occasional toad—and hustled Delphine over to her threadbare old armchair.
Delphine settled in with a sigh and a smile. “Ahh, that’s better. It’s good to rest my old bones. Dinnae bother setting up the fire, lassie. I’m going out to see old Jim Urquhart later. That sprain of his isnae healing up, and he’s nae a young man.”
Emma winced. “Jim doesnae like me. He still willnae let me take care of him. I bet it’s because I’m a woman.”
“Actually, with Jim, I’d say it’s more because ye are young. He hasn’t known me for the last four decades without realizin’ that women are just as capable as men. I’d better get going.”
Delphine began to lever herself slowly and painfully out of her chair, and Emma got to her feet.
“I’ll come with ye, then.”
“Nay, lassie, ye stay here. Get the medicines ready for tomorrow, eh?” Delphine said, smiling affectionately at Emma. “I know ye care for me, lass, but I’d like a little time alone.”
“Of course,” Emma said, backing away.
When the door closed behind Delphine, Emma was left alone in the cavernous Healer’s Chambers.
The Chambers consisted of a large, circular room, with smaller boxrooms branching off it. There were rectangular stone tables set at intervals for inspecting patients, specimens, mixing medicines, and more. Delphine was strict about not mixing the tables.
Bushels of herbs, savory and tangy, hung from the ceiling. Aside from the usual medicinal herbs, there were onions, wild garlic, carrots, and more.
Most of the box rooms contained books. There was a tremendous collection of books here at Keep MacPherson,although most were stored in the library. There, in the Healer’s Chambers, the books were about medicine, anatomy, and other sciences, as well as a few other textbooks thrown in for good measure. The collection had been scraped together over several generations. In her youth, Delphine had written books on herbs, animals, and medicines. Even now, she often had Emma draft essays on various topics.
That was one of the reasons that she’d chosen Emma as her apprentice in the first place—Emma could read and write. Two box rooms had been allocated as their respective rooms, although Emma’s was currently full of books and herbs.
Their collection of herbs, plants, and so on was carefully arranged on shelves, running almost all the way around the walls. The jars were all well-labeled, and Delphine kept an inventory system that made sure that they didn’t run out of the vital herbs, like lionweed for infection, lavender for nightmares, or shell-root to make blood clot in a wound.
It had taken some time for Emma to get used to the system, but now she knew what herb was in which jar before her fingers even touched it.
Better get to work.
She shook out her apron. Delphine wasn’t tolerant of laziness and expected Emma to pull her weight.
Still, since it was likely Delphine wouldn’t be back for some time—not when she could gossip with Jim Urquhart—Emma tookher time. They had a list of patients they would visit every day and notes on what medicines they may need.
She was busy consulting the list when the door to the Chambers opened and closed.
“Just a moment,” Emma called, turning to pick out a jar of dried rosemary from the herb shelves. “Delphine isn’t here, so I’m afraid it’s just…” She turned to face the new patient, and her voice trailed off. “Me,” she finished.
Laird MacPherson grinned at her. “Ye don’t seem pleased to see me, Butterfly.”
2
Laird Thomas MacPherson was only twenty-nine, which was pretty young for a laird. He was also the most irrational, infuriating person that Emma had ever met. He almost seemed to enjoy waltzing into the Healer’s Chambers and making trouble. He seemed towatchher while she was working, which annoyed her to no end.
She wasn’t sure whyit annoyed her. Emma was used to being watched while she worked. Delphine always hovered at her shoulder, watching her every movement, poised to give advice. Patients watched her with wide eyes while she prepared pastes, powders, teas, and tinctures, and none of that had ever bothered her before.
