“I intended to, but I had stopped into the post house and heard Agatha talking about seeing her friend.” He nodded toward Robena. “I ken she’s abrasive. And I feared she’d do something to upset her, so I introduced myself and came along.”
Aftyn fought the urge to stamp her foot. “I need yer help, Jamie Lathan. Ye heard Agatha. She hates me. Her bairn’s heart gave out within days of his birth. I could no’ save him.”
She wrung her hands, then gestured to the sleeping woman on the bed. “I’ve treated Robena for months, doing all I could to ease her pain, and when it became difficult for her, her breathing. If ye have truly helped her, I must ken how ye did it. She may need the like again in the future, after ye are gone. Others may need the like.”
“Lass, I… canna.” His jaw clenched as he avoided her gaze.
Aftyn knew she was begging, and she hated it, but she was not begging for herself, but for her fellow villagers. But nay, his expression was resolute. He would not. Aftyn broke eye contact. “Go on, then. I’ll wait with Robena till she wakes.”
“Nay, lass. Ye must go. Agatha is still out there.”
“And I wish to see how Robena fares.”
“Ye will. Perhaps tomorrow, without Agatha here to upset Robena.”
She moved closer to the bed. “I worry for her. I should wake her.”
“She will fare better if ye allow her to sleep and awaken when she is ready.”
He’d used the one argument she had no answer for. She would not knowingly harm Robena or anyone else. She could not. She let her shoulders slump in defeat and huffed out a frustrated breath.
* * *
Jamie’s conscienceniggled at him like a minnow on a hook. Helping these people was not helping Aftyn, yet he felt compelled to do whatever he could for them. How was he to know if he was supposed to help someone, or if death was their fate? He could only do his best and leave the rest to God.
For now, the stubborn lass was in his way, but perhaps not for long. He had used her empathy against her, and could see it working. She’d already canted her body toward the door.
He remained still and quiet, letting Aftyn’s own inclinations propel her outside. Once the door shut behind her, he turned quickly to his patient and scanned her as he’d been taught, sensing the slow beat of her heart and the sluggish flow of blood through her veins, the air moving in and out of her lungs, searching for a way to destroy more of the contagion killing her. With Aftyn waiting outside, he didn’t have much time, time Robena desperately needed him to spend with her. Time he needed to understand what was wrong with her and figure out how to treat it. He considered making a fast trip to the Aerie and back to consult with his mother. Aileanna would know whether Robena could be cured, and how, or whether the best anyone could do would be to make her comfortable and ease her passing.
Yet knowing Aftyn could never do what he could stopped him.
He knew better than anyone that Aftyn had fought a losing battle with Robena’s illness. Nothing she could have done would have saved the lass. But he could not tell her that. He could not explain how he knew, or what he’d done to save her patient. That ability lay within him, an unprecedented gift from his mother. No herb, no potion she could concoct would ever do what he did, no matter how strong or often applied, how well intentioned its use.
His talent, his power, was something else entirely. He couldn’t claim to understand it. But he used it. And he guarded it. As hard as it was to hear Aftyn’s pleas, he had nothing to give her that would have helped her make a difference here.
But what would happen to her if Robena suddenly, miraculously improved? Would Agatha’s accusation resonate within the village? Only two months earlier, the king had burned at the stake the Countess of Glamis for trying to poison him. Jamie had the misfortune of being nearby and saw the smoke roiling above the castle, heard the chanting and the screams. Those screams would inhabit his nightmares for the rest of his life.
If Agatha persisted in saying Aftyn had poisoned her bairn and Robena, it took little imagination to come to a very bad conclusion. Aftyn was in danger because of what he’d done. What she, through no fault of her own, would never be able to do.
Jamie could not leave her, perhaps not even once Niall was ready to travel. Somehow, he must fix this. Time was short. He’d only promised the Keith he'd remain for a week. By then, he must see Aftyn’s reputation restored.
During that time, he’d continue to puzzle out her mother’s journal and teach Aftyn as much herb lore as he could. He might learn from her, as well.
“Colin?”
Robena’s voice startled Jamie out of his thoughts. He turned to her and smiled. Since she had been unconscious until her husband burst in the day before, likely she did not remember him. “Colin is working. I came to see how ye are feeling.”
“Who are ye? What are ye doing? Colin? Colin!” Robena’s voice gained strength and volume as her panic increased. She sat up and clutched the covers to her chest. “Colin!”
The door flew open and Aftyn ran in, Agatha on her heels. “Robena, ye are awake!”
“What’s wrong?” Agatha turned her frown on Jamie as Aftyn dropped to her knees beside the bed and clutched Robena’s hand in hers.
“All is well. This man is a healer. He’s helped ye. He’s made ye better.”
“Where’s Colin? Where’s my husband?”
“Working the harvest,” Aftyn told her. "He’ll be along soon. He’ll be glad to see ye awake.”
