Page 31 of Fire in his Highland Heart

Blake paused for a moment, as he considered her striking eyes and hair, and the stunned look she had given him in the market square earlier that day. Even in plain clothes with her hair under a cap, she was still radiantly beautiful. Though, he was not about to let James know that. “She’s perfectly adequate.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Perfectly adequate? Ye’ve barely spoken tae her.”

Blake huffed. “Aye, which is why she is perfectly adequate. Neither ordinary, nor extraordinary.”

“So ye fancy her then?” James asked.

Blake huffed again, this time in disbelief and annoyance. “I just shared my thoughts. They are neither laudatory nor scornful. How could ye possibly make such a determination?”

“Because ye do this when ye fancy someone. Ye try tae stay uninvolved.”

“I dinnae do such things.”

“Aye, ye do.”

Blake heaved a deep sigh. “Fine. I think she’s bonnie, an’ that’s all.”

James grinned. “I ken ye’d come ‘round.”

Blake grunted in response. “Now get out. I have business.”

After James left with a wink and a smile, Blake put his head down on his desk and exhaled deeply. He could not deny the attraction he had for Arguen. He did find her bonnie, and he often found himself thinking about her. His mind most often traveled to watching her dance and talk with other partygoers at the ball last night. And though it wasn’t entirely honorable, he always had in his mind that he caught a glimpse of her slender figure through her shift when he came to officially welcome her to the castle, before she hastily pulled the quilt up to cover herself. She didn’t remember it, but he’d seen her before that moment—when the guards had burst into the great hall carrying her seemingly lifeless body. He’d spent the next few days fuming. He and James and Mrs. Kinney had surmised she was a traveler, about which they were right, of course. But what sane woman would travel alone across the moors like that, with no regard for her own personal safety? Douglas’s letter did not explain all, but it explained enough. He’d written that her life was in danger if she stayed any longer at Bruckstone Castle, and that Ernmore was his only hope. He vouched for her character, promised she was no spy or treasonous wretch, and that she simply needed safe harbor until things simmered down. Blake was willing to accept all that—he did, after all, owe Douglas a great debt. What he did not understand, however, was why only Arguen was in danger and not Douglas. What could put one sibling at risk but leave the other perfectly well?

He picked his head up again and began to draft his series of letters for the day. Always the letters, always busy. He had a feeling he would know soon enough. Until then, he would have to be content meditating on her bright eyes and shining hair.

Chapter Twelve

Apparently, word of Arguen’s generosity and skill had spread around the town. In a matter of a few weeks, she had amassed a bit of a following. People found it much easier to come to her cottage for treatment rather than go all the way to the castle to see Mrs. Kinney. She was busier than she’d been at Bruckstone Castle, but she didn’t mind. It helped to keep her mind from worrying too much. She’d been called to Ernmore Castle a few times to treat wounds from castle staff as well, and the more she visited the castle, the more baffled she was by her host’s behavior. Laird Blake never had a kind word for her, but he never had a sour one either. He seemed to regard her with such cold indifference that Arguen’s very skin chilled. The people seemed to like her, but every time she interacted with Blake, she felt less and less welcome. All she could do now was keep her head down and help as many people as she could with her gift.

The very first week of September, Mrs. Jenkins’s little boy came running up to her cottage in a panic, more so than the first time he’d called for her. When Arguen opened the door to the incessant knocking, she wasn’t at all surprised to see him, and had a feeling this call would be coming soon.

“Please Miss Arguen, Mama says ‘tis time. The babe is a’comin. Can ye help?”

“Aye, lad. Let me get my things. Have ye sent for the midwife?” she asked, feeling a bit nervous. She hoped to God Mrs. Jenkins wasn’t sending only for her—she’d only attended a few births in her lifetime, and never one by herself. Midwifery was another art entirely.

“Not yet. Mama asked for ye first,” the boy said.

Arguen’s stomach turned at that. “I’ll be on my way. But ye have tae call for Mrs. Kinney at the castle or for the midwife, ye ken?”

An obedient lad, the Jenkins boy was off to do as he was told. Arguen mentally steeled herself the entire walk there. She knew that all she could do at that moment was comfort Mrs. Jenkins and soothe her until a real midwife arrived.

She could hear Mrs. Jenkins’s groans from the alleyway before she even knocked at the door. Manners seemed rather silly, so she let herself in. Another young woman, presumably a neighbor, was sitting in one of the chairs by the fire, holding the toddler as if to comfort her. As she bounced Mrs. Jenkins’s babe on her knee, she motioned upstairs. Arguen nodded a thanks and went up to tend to her patient.

Mrs. Jenkins was clearly in labor and thus pain, but her countenance brightened significantly when Arguen entered the room.

“Och, praise God. I’m glad it’s ye, Arguen,” she managed through gritted teeth.

“Aye, I’m here. An’ I’ve sent yer boy tae find the midwife, or Mrs. Kinney. For now, I’ll help ye focus on breathin’ and get ye comfortable.”

Mrs. Jenkins groaned. “No time for that, lass. The babes want out now,” she cried.

Arguen’s heart sank to the bottom of her stomach like a stone, and her mouth went dry. This was a moment’ she’d been dreading—having to assist a woman in labor with no one to help her, and not being trained in the craft of midwifery. But—there was nothing more alarming than an unkempt nurse—she reminded herself, and she had to carry on. She readied the water, rags, and a few herbs she knew would help for after. There was even a bit of wine to ease the pain and help the babe out if need be. All she had to do was stall until the real midwife arrived.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen. The boy burst through the bedroom door as Arguen was getting Mrs. Jenkins settled into a comfortable position on the bed.

“The midwife is helpin’ someone else, an’ Mrs. Kinney is busy at the castle,” he reported, his tone most agitated.

Arguen’s entire body went numb for a moment as the news hit her, and she began to accept the reality: she was to deliver a baby, having very little experience and no help from anyone else. She wanted to panic, to tell Mrs. Jenkins that she couldn’t do it, but that would help no one. She was ready to break down when she remembered the story Douglas had told her the night she left. Even when the tide brought her all the way out to sea, she hadn’t resisted, and was able to swim back when she was out of danger. This could be another one of those moments, so she grit her teeth and snapped into her most authoritative, calming mode.