Page 33 of Fire in his Highland Heart

James cut her off. “Arguen, it’s serious. His daughter is ill. A fever of some kind. He fears for her life,” he said.

That silenced her for a moment. She really needed a rest, and doubted her abilities to treat little Mirellain properly without such rest, but that was the way of a healer. And sickness knew not of rest.

“Aye. Take me tae the castle then.”

James didn’t have to be told twice. He helped her up onto the horse, and wasted no time in galloping away.

* * *

Things seemed business as usual at the castle. The kitchen was bustling as always, and other guards and servants and nobility seemed to mind their own business. The only person who looked out of sorts was Laird Blake himself, who paced back and forth in front of his daughter’s bedchamber. His plain (but still finely made) doublet was unbuttoned, showing the collar of his shirt and a peek of his broad chest, and his dark hair was tousled. His eyes looked hollow and dim, his entire face haggard. He was even slumping, something she’d never seen him do.

When he saw Arguen, he seemed to come back to life. “Och, Arguen. Thank God ye’re here. She’s very ill. I dinnae ken what tae do tae help.”

“I ken yer worried, Laird, but ye need to remain calm an’ let me heal her, a’right?”

He nodded vigorously, and opened the door to her room. The nurse—Nurse Patsy, she’d learned last time—was kneeling next to little Mirellain, holding a wet rag to her forehead.

Arguen was shocked at the little girl’s symptoms. This was an illness she’d not seen in quite some time, and if it spread, it could spell trouble for the whole village. Poor Mirellain was covered in a red rash, and Arguen could tell the child was having trouble breathing. As she knelt next to Nurse Patsy, she could see the child clearly had a fever. Her skin was burning to the touch.

“Is she able tae swallow?” she asked the child’s nurse. All the exhaustion she’d felt following the birth was gone, replaced instead by a frenzied need to care for the child.

“Not well. She willnae eat anythin’, claimin’ her belly aches. An’ she says it hurts tae swallow.”

Arguen had the child open her mouth so she could see in. Just as she had suspected—a red, swollen throat and white spots on the tongue. Her heart sank once again down to the bottoms of her feet. Scarlet fever. It could be devastating, especially to infants and children, and Arguen knew she had to work fast in order to stop the spread.

James and Blake still stood in the doorway, watching with bated breath, awaiting the child’s fate. Arguen turned her head to address the two anxious men. “’Tis scarlet fever,” she said matter-of-factly.

Any color that was left in Blake’s face drained away. “Scarlet fever? Ye’re sure? Ye’re sound of mind?”

Arguen took mild offense to his last question, but brushed it away to focus on the task at hand. “Aye. Has everyone in this room been exposed ‘afore?”

They all nodded, much to Arguen’s relief. Having been exposed to the illness, or having it before and recovering, meant it was likely they would not get it again.

“Braw,” Arguen continued. “in that case, I need ye tae ask everyone in the castle the same. If they’ve no been exposed or had it, they need tae leave until the sickness is gone. Anyone who played with Mirellain will need tae be looked over for similar things. ‘Tis possible we may have tae burn some of her toys, ye ken?” she said.

Thankfully, James and Patsy seemed to hear the urgency in her voice and set about to do exactly as they were told. Arguen gave Patsy a list of the herbs and different things she’d need to help Mirellain, and the nurse set off quickly and without question.

Blake, however, still paced back and forth by the doorway, running his hands through his hair, his steps growing more erratic with each pass. After a few minutes, Arguen had reached her limit, and stood up to give him a piece of her mind.

“Yer lairdship, ye have tae stop. Pacin’ does no good.”

“Give me an occupation, Arguen, or I’ll go mad,” he said. His voice was so much softer than she’d ever heard it, and in his eyes, she saw compassion, if she were not mistaken.

She squared her shoulders and looked up at him. “Yer occupation is tae lead yer people. Ye are tae be calm and steadfast, and put on a brave face.”

He nodded, but she could see it wasn’t getting through to him, so she grabbed the front of his shirt collar and forced him to look down at her. “Look at me. Ye need tae stay brave fer yer daughter. Is that clear?”

Blake gulped nervously. His eyes flickered from her own, down to her lips, and back up to her eyes again. The actions were not missed by Arguen, who let go of his shirt and stepped back.

“Now go. Help James. And ye’ll have tae burn her toys an’ some of her clothes. We cannae risk it.”

Blake nodded, gulped again, and disappeared down the hallway to do his tasks. Arguen heaved a sigh and returned to Mirellain’s bedside. The poor child’s golden curls were plastered to her head with sweat, and she moaned pitifully in pain.

“’Tis a’right, wee lass. I’m here tae help ye,” she said, running a soothing hand over the child’s brow. “I’ll help ye tae be better, ye ken? But ye have tae promise me ye’ll be strong.”

Mirellain only moaned, her eyes closed. When they shot open and fixed their gaze on Arguen, it was with a shocked expression. “Mama?” she asked.

The simple word nearly broke Arguen’s heart. “Nay, lass. I’m not yer mama, but I’m here tae help.”