“Her son?”
“He isna Rory’s lad. He’s her dead husband’s. Rory doesna want bairns, so he keeps her hungry and ill, thinking that will prevent her breeding. Every time she misses her monthly flux or shows any signs he thinks mean a bairn is on the way, he beats her. She’s lost two of his bairns already.”
“Keeping her on the verge of starvation could stop her courses. But he’s beating her more often than that.”
“Probably.” Aftyn shook her head. “She fainted, then?”
“That’s what I believe. I havena tried to wake her. The lad said she wouldn’t awaken for him.”
“Likely she’s exhausted and sleeping. I’ll sit with her.”
“What will Rory do when he comes home and finds her like this?”
“Nothing good.”
“And if ye are here, ye will be the next lass he hits.” Jamie rose and offered a hand to help her up. “Nay. I’ll stay and have a talk with him.”
She gripped his arm and stood, then stepped back, planting her fists on her hips. “I dinna need yer protection,” she insisted.
His gaze snapped back to her face. Aye, she’d noticed. She frowned at him, then looked down at Mhairi. “This is my village. My people. I care for them. I can take care of myself, as well. I dinna need a man to do it for me.”
Aftyn’s confidence impressed him, but Mhairi’s condition gave him a reason to be cautious. “We’ve already established lasses are in danger from him.”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps only Mhairi.”
He found himself mirroring her stance, hands on hips, as his irritation with her grew. “Aftyn, I think…”
“Wheesht.” She waved an open hand between them. “Ye men are all alike. ’Tis why I swore long ago never to marry. Likely after a month or two of being told what to do, I’d want to stab a husband in his sleep.”
For some reason, her vow not to marry felt like a punch to his gut, a punch he couldn’t resist returning. “Why do anything so brazen? Poison can be as fast… or as slow, as ye wish.” He softened the rebuke with a grin.
And why should he care what she did or didn’t do? Her life was here. His was at the Aerie.
“Ach, ye mean to drive me mad, do ye? Go on, leave me.” She waved both hands at him, palms down. “Wait outside if ye must.”
Jamie grinned again, willing to cede this round to her. In any case, what he had to say to Rory would best not be overheard by anyone else. He’d await the man just outside his door.
* * *
Aftyn knelt again,picked up Mhairi’s hand and stroked it, hoping to rouse her. Her breathing deepened, probably in response to Aftyn’s gentle touch, but she remained asleep. Likely she got little of gentleness in her life. Gentleness from a man like Rory came seldom, if at all.
Even Jamie had nothing to offer her save food and rest. Then again, she was sure he waited outside for Rory, despite what she’d said about taking care of herself and her village, so perhaps therewassomething he could do to help her. Aftyn would be pleased, whether he used persuasion or threats, so long as it worked and Rory treated Mhairi better.
While she waited, she glanced around the cottage. The main room’s fire had burned down to a glow. Should she add some peat or leave it be? What would Rory expect when he got home? That Mhairi had worked in the cold, not wasting fuel he claimed for his own, or would he be angry that she had not warmed the house before he arrived, making ready for him? Which would enrage Rory and cause Mhairi more trouble?
She decided it didn’t matter what Rory wanted. Mhairi lay on a cold floor, and Aftyn had started to feel chilled as well. She stood and stirred the embers, then added more fuel. In moments, cheery flames leapt to life, and the room seemed warmer, even though she knew the fire had not had time to make much of a difference.
While she was up, she climbed a few rungs of the ladder leaning against the far wall and peered into the loft. It was clean, bedding ordered, and blankets folded and piled nearby. Mhairi kept a clean and neat home. As she climbed back down, Aftyn shuddered to think what the consequences might be if she did not. The main level was as neat as the loft, table scrubbed, pots neatly stacked, clothes not in evidence, so likely they were folded into the chest she’d spied in the loft. Another stood next to the hearth. For the lad? Or spare linens? The cot in the main room must be for the lad. His blanket cushioned his mother’s head, no doubt put there by Jamie. It seemed like something he would do. They’d started badly, but she’d come to see there was more to him than his dismay over Niall’s condition and his reaction to it. If he’d been warned—and if he knew about her beforehand—he’d have greeted her very differently.
Mhairi groaned and stirred. Aftyn returned to her and took her hand again. “Mhairi, wake up, lass. I’m here. ’Tis Aftyn. We are alone.”
“My lad…”
“He’s fine. He fetched us.”
Mhairi’s eyes blinked open. “Us? Rory?”
“Nay. The village now has two healers, at least for a few more days. Ye are too weak, Mhairi. Ye fainted. Ye must eat more.”
