So she must wait until the healer determined it was time to reveal his eye—and his future. The Marymas feast was a time to celebrate the Assumption, the coming harvest, and to prepare for the long winter ahead. It was also a celebration of good fortune. Of miracles. Ella hoped for two—that the love Calum once held in his heart for her remained, and that once his eyeswere no longer covered, he would see on her face, in her eyes, the love she had hidden from him for too long.
Calum didn’t knowhow much longer he could stand this. The enforced blindness was bad enough, but worse were these feelings for a woman who was not Ella.
Or was she? There were times he was convinced Ella attended him. At times, the onions Janet favored failed to completely mask her natural scent, and though rougher than Ella’s, her touch seemed otherwise the same, even if the voice was altered.
Altered.Deliberately?
He’d held this woman in his arms minutes ago, more closely than he’d ever been able to hold Ella. He’d nestled her body against his chest, her heat warming his hands. Surely, he could not be this attracted to any other woman but his Ella.
Was Janet a mummery cooked up between Ella and the healer to circumvent his wish that Ella not be involved in his care?
Or was he days too late in that concern? She had been at his bedside when he awoke. Had she cared for him until he objected? Had she cared for him as a mother cares for a sick child? He couldn’t bear the idea of it.
He was a warrior. A scout. And Ella was the woman he loved. The one that he wanted for his wife. That he wanted to bed, damn it. How was he to arouse her to accept him as a man if she’d cared for him while he was unconscious and helpless to control his body?
And what harm had he just done by his angry words?What good was beauty to a blind man, indeed? Yes, Ella wasbeautiful, but he loved all of her, not only her appearance. Her beauty encompassed who she was, how she cared for others—even for him, perhaps—and how she had fought for and protected herself at Ross.
Yet he’d told the truth. His angry outburst exposed his pain if he didn’t get his sight back. If he lost his eye, his place in the clan, he’d have to give her up, too. She deserved to be with someone whole. The thought tore at his guts. He wanted her, but only if he remained the man he once was—with both eyes. He had to keep his distance until he knew who he would be, the warrior or the half-blind man.
But then, why the deception of Janet? If Ella was indeed pretending to be Janet, he didn’t know what he would do.
He was confused and he knew it. And tired from the walk outside, which angered him again. How could he fight for his clan if a walk around the bailey exhausted him?
“I will return to my chamber now,” he announced, not even certain Janet remained with him. She’d been silent since his angry comment.
“I’ll take ye.” Her voice had taken on a gruff edge. Had he hurt her feelings, then? Another reason to think this was Ella, not some fictional Janet.
“Nay, ye needna. Stay and enjoy the feast. I can find my way.”
“Third door?—”
“On the right. I ken it.” He moved away without another word. He was at a loss for how to deal with Janet…or Ella…at this time. The healer had to take these bandages from his eyes. The deception they practiced would be impossible. And he would know whether he had two good eyes and the future he had worked for his entire life, or would be forgotten among the clan’s crippled and ill, struggling to make use of any skills he retained.
It was a grim thought, and soured his mood further. He needed tosee!
Where was the healer?
He stood still for a moment, orienting himself to the sounds and movement around him. Had he gotten turned around? Which way should he go? Ah, the great hall’s hearth was ahead of him…there. The scent of burning wood was stronger in that direction. The way sound bounced around the hall, seeming farther away in that direction, told him the shape of the room. Which meant the herbal was to the left. He turned in that direction, going slowly so as to avoid barking his shins on a bench or tripping over a trestle table. People saw him coming, of course, and helped him avoid obstacles. He thanked them and moved on, embarrassed to be treated as one who could not take care of himself, even though he knew they meant their assistance as a kindness.
Could he face them with a warrior’s pride once he could see again? Or worse, could he live among those who’d known him as a warrior when his sight was gone forever? That would be harder to survive than any battle he’d fought up to now. He must be freed from this darkness before he went mad.
The last helpful voice told him he’d reached the hallway he wanted. Once he’d successfully transited the great hall, getting to his objective was easy.
“Healer, are ye within?” He knew he’d come to the right place. The scents of herbs and flowers added to the often acrid or odorous potions and poultices she was constantly making, assaulted his nose.
“Good day to ye,” he heard her say. “Where is Janet?”
He didn’t let her use of the name distract him. “I left her to find her friends enjoying the feast, and came to find ye.”
“Come in, then. There’s a stool six paces ahead of ye to yer right hand. Have a seat and tell me what ye want.”
“I want ye to remove these wrappings from my eyes,” he said as he found the stool and settled one cheek on it, then slid over to sit on it fully. “It has been long enough.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
He felt as much as heard the healer approach him. He fought to keep his voice calm and level as he told her, “If ye dinna remove them, I will. I’ve lived in darkness too long. I must ken what my future will be.”
She stayed silent long enough that he began to sweat. Would she deny him?
