Caitlyn blushed. “Yes,” she replied. “But very stern.” She frowned. “He looks as if he has never smiled in his life.”
“Some men are just like that,” Eileen sighed, “especially the ones with much responsibility, and that means most lairds.” She rubbed her forehead, which was developing a painful lump and a purple bruise. “Remember that he has to be able to do many different things, Caitie, and sometimes many things at the same time.” She smiled wearily at her daughter. “I am so tired…” She tried in vain to keep her eyes open but it was no good. Her eyes closed and she fell asleep. At least Caitlyn hoped it was sleep. She looked very still and pale.
After a little while, Alastair came down the hill again. “How is she?” he asked, frowning.
“Either sleeping or unconscious,” Caitlyn answered. “I have no idea which. She woke up for a while, then passed out again. She is not herself at all, and I could not live without her.”
“When we get to the castle, Teresa, the wise woman from the village of Mullachburn, will be waiting for us. She is a wonderful healer of people and even animals,” he said gruffly. Caitlyn had no idea that he was trying to sound gentle, but gentleness did not come easily to Alastair Duncan.
“I must warn you though, that sometimes a fever comes with this type of wound. No one knows why. But I have seen Teresa do miracles, so your mother is in very good hands.”
Caitlyn sighed. “Let us hope we don’t need one!”
If Alastair had been a different kind of man, he would have given her a squeeze and told her everything would be fine, but he was not like that. He was a tightly shut book, and everything in his life was sealed inside, never to be opened to the outside world.
Now he had strangers in his home. He was a big, strong, solid man, but he was terrified of the emotional cost of inviting outsiders into his living space. There were no frills in his home; it was a bachelor’s house, and he liked it that way. He had no one to answer to except himself and his sister, and she understood him well.
He stood waiting outside the main gate with the healer until the cart appeared, and the first woman he had invited to his home in over three years stepped over his threshold.
2
Alastair
Even though it stood on top of a hill and received rays of sunshine from every direction, Castle Mullach was gloomy inside. Caitlyn was too worried about Eileen to take much notice of her surroundings, but she was aware of being cold. A chill pervaded the air in the building that seemed to have nothing to do with the weather, despite there being log fires aplenty.
Once again Alastair lifted her mother out of the cart, but this time Caitlyn got out by herself. She noticed Alastair giving her a hostile sideways look as if she had annoyed him in some way, and felt an even colder chill go through her. She realized that they were not wanted here; he had not taken them in out of charity, but out of duty, because he could not in all conscience have left them lying in the road.
Caitlyn was right. Alastair’s sense of responsibility was far stronger than his charitable instinct. The accident had happened on his land and he had an obligation as a decent human being to do his best by them, but he was not comfortable with the idea.
Alastair had noticed at once that the young woman he was looking at was very, very lovely, with long auburn hair styled in a single braid from her neck down to her waist, and eyes that were the color of ripe green apples. Something, an old memory perhaps, stirred inside him, but he squashed it down ruthlessly. He was shivering inside, and he resented her at once for making him feel so uncomfortable and invading his home with her unwelcome presence. However, she excited him too in a primitive, visceral way, a way he had not felt for ages, and it frightened him.
He carried Lady Duncan upstairs and laid her in a bedroom where a warm fire was already burning. He was surprisingly gentle with her, Caitlyn thought.
“Thank you,” she nodded and smiled at him. “You have been very kind, and we will not trouble you for longer than we have to.”
He gave her a slight bow and for a moment his dark, unreadable eyes bored into hers. “You may stay here as long as you like, Mistress Duncan,” he replied in his deep masculine voice. “I will have my household staff treat you as I would any other guest in my home. Please feel free to help yourself to anything there is to drink, and order whatever you want from the kitchen.”
He turned and descended the stairs, leaving her to watch him. He was handsome and for the most part courteous but that look he had given her was anything but kind.
Teresa turned out to be a tall handsome woman of forty or so with gray hair and dark gray eyes. She smiled at Caitlyn as she entered the room.
“I gied her some willow bark tea, Mistress," she informed Caitlyn. “That should bring doon her temperature, but we will hae tae see whit the pain is like when she wakes up. She is no’ unconscious, jist in a deep sleep." She looked at Caitlyn’s pale face for a moment and then said, “Go an’ eat somethin’hen, an’ hae a glass of’ somethin’ tae perk ye up. Ye look fair done in an’ it’s only jist efternoon!”
Caitlyn looked doubtfully at her mother. Seeing her look, Teresa took her by the shoulders. “Away an’ eat, lass. Ye will feel better on a fu’ stomach. I will sit wi’ yer ma.”
Caitlyn smiled at her gratefully, suddenly realizing that she was ravenous. On the way down she passed Alastair again, walking towards the entrance to the courtyard. He glanced at her from under lowered brows, then looked away and carried on walking. There had been no friendly acknowledgement, not even a nod. Caitlyn felt as though she had been slapped in the face, and that was the moment when she began to hate Alastair Duncan.
Eileen slept through the afternoon, and Teresa left after a short time to go and attend to another patient, promising that she would be back in a short while. Caitlyn hated sewing, but she wished she had something to sew now just to keep her hands and mind busy. She was bored witless, and wondered if the castle had a library.
She doubted if Teresa would know, but she thought that the servants would.
Eileen was still sleeping when Teresa came back but it was not surprising considering the amount of willow bark and valerian tea Teresa had administered. The healer changed the sheet underneath her and administered more tea, a painstaking process, since it had to be done with a tiny teaspoon while she slept.
The sun had set while all this was going on, and it was almost dinnertime, so Teresa sent Caitlyn down to eat. In truth, Caitlyn was ravenous, but had felt too awkward to ask for food in a strange place, even with the Laird’s permission.
When Caitlyn went downstairs she was dismayed to find that Alastair was already sitting at the dining room table. He had seen her, so she could not back out of the room, therefore she curtsied and went to sit down, but he came around the table to pull a chair out for her, then ordered her food and poured her a glass of wine.
All this time he had said nothing to her, although he was distinctly aware of her presence, wondering what it was about her that disturbed him so much. She was so lovely, but somehow when he tried to speak to her the words stuck in his throat. It had been such a long time since he had talked to a woman that he thought that perhaps he had forgotten how.
