Annie could sympathize with the horse, although from the doctor’s rather shaky voice she wondered if he might have been the one more concerned with the steep hills. Not that she blamed him. She recalled all too vividly looking out the window to the sheer drop of the ravine below.
Jillian nodded. “The road is difficult.”
“I hope his lordship will understand.”
“I am sure he will,” she answered. “At the moment, he is not here, but he should return soon. Meanwhile, let me take you to our patient.”
Annie followed them upstairs. Mrs. Cameron, the middle-aged housekeeper, rose from the chair near the bed as they entered the room.
“Mr. MacDonald has been sleeping quietly. I think the fever may have broken.”
“Thank God!” Annie said as she rushed over to lay the back of her hand on Niall’s forehead. “I think ye are right.”
“Hmph. I will be the judge of that,” the doctor said as he walked toward them and moved the sheet back. His brows drew together. “Someone has already tended the wound?”
“Yes, we have a healing woman who lives nearby,” Jillian said. “An old lady who keeps a herbal garden in the forest. She applied a poultice.”
Annie gave Jillian a curious glance. Was that all the Crone of the Hills was? An old lady with a herbal garden? Couldthe change in appearance that Annie thought she saw, along with mist that didn’t exist, been a result of those herbs put in the water? Jillian had acknowledged that she’d seen steam rise momentarily, but that was all.
“Hmph,” the doctor said again.
“We were not sure if you would be able to get here today, since it is treacherous going,” Jillian added. “Mr. MacDonald was in serious condition. Ian thought it not wise to wait when we had a healer close.”
The physician looked like he wanted to argue the point, but he nodded, evidently realizing that disagreeing with a laird’s viewpoint was not prudent. “Of course, Mr. MacLeod made the right decision.”
A short time later, after the doctor grudgingly admitted there was nothing more he could do, they descended the steps to find Ian had just returned.
“I believe your guest is on the mend, your lordship,” the physician said.
“’Tis good to hear,” Ian replied. “And I thank ye for coming so quickly.”
The doctor smiled. “Think nothing of it. I am most happy to attend to his lordship and lady anytime.”
As Ian walked the man to his horse, Annie turned to Jillian. “I was nae aware that your husband should be addressed as ‘his lordship.’ I am sorry to have blundered.”
Jillian shook her head. “You did not make a mistake. Actually, Ian hates being called that.”
Annie raised an eyebrow. “Then why does he nae stop it?”
“Well, the physician was trained in London, and there it is customary to address the aristocracy as such.”
“Aye. I ken that.” Annie felt confused. “But your husband is a Scottish laird.”
Jillian nodded. “True, but he is also an English earl.”
“What? Anearl?”
“The Earl of Cantford, to be exact,” Jillian replied. “His great-grandfather fought with King George and was rewarded with a title and land in England which bordered my own. That is how I met him.”
“Your land? Ye mean ye hold the title to it?” Annie asked. “I dinnae think women could do so, although I definitely think weshouldbe able to.”
“Well, these were special circumstances and not pleasant.” Jillian’s expression darkened as though she were remembering. “The marquis’ nephew, who would have been the heir, was…” She hesitated, her breath hitching. “…mentally unfit. I was awarded the title.”
Annie blinked. “Then ye are a marchioness? In your own right?”
“Yes.”
“Then… Excuse my asking, but why are yehere? In Scotland, I mean?”
