light, he would be angry with me for not finding it right away."
Anna nodded. She was right, of course. Though she hadn't known Tavia long, she liked the healer, who appeared to be in her mid-thirties. "You are extremely loyal to him, are you not?"
"Of course. I have great respect for his lairdship."
Anna did, too. In fact, he was one of the few men she'd met, aside from her late husband, who was completely honorable. The way Neacal had carried her across the bailey had at first alarmed her, but once she realized he only wanted to help, she'd felt comforted and protected.
Female voices echoed in through the half open door from the corridor. "Did you hear?"
"What?"
"The laird killed one of his own guards, out behind the stables. He is mad, in truth!"
A flash of anger took hold of Anna. She shoved herself from the bed, despite Tavia's protests, and widened the door. "He is not mad," she told the two gossips. "'Twas a fair sword fight. The guard challenged the laird. What do you think he would do with someone so disloyal?"
They gaped at her wide-eyed. "How do you ken? Were you there?"
"Aye, I was." She closed the door and returned to the bed. "The chief is a good man," she said, lying down again. Irritation still simmered inside her.
"Indeed, he is," Tavia said, her green eyes more intense. "I'm glad more people are seeing this. I detest the rumors that he is mad. 'Tis true he is very troubled but he has a right to be."
"The servants were whispering that he was tortured in the past."
"Aye."
"What happened?" Anna asked.
"I know not all the details, but when his clansmen brought him back here, he was knocked out. If only you could've seen how severe his wounds were." She shook her head, sorrow in her eyes. "'Tis a miracle he survived at all."
Anna hated to imagine Neacal in such terrible shape. The scars on his face were evidence of how horribly he'd been treated. But how many more scars did he have beneath his clothes?
"Did you attend to his injuries?" Anna asked.
"Aye. Thanks be to God the lad is healed and stronger than ever before."
"He does appear strong." And the way he had easily carried her proved that. His arms and chest had felt as if they were made of steel.
"The scar on his face frightens some people," Tavia observed.
"Not me." Anna would mention her sister's facial scar, but then Tavia would ask what happened. 'Twas too dangerous to talk about the past.
Tavia allowed a small grin. "Can you turn onto your stomach so I can examine your back?"
Anna turned over, wanting to ask more about Neacal, but she wouldn't. Obviously, Tavia didn't want to discuss the details of his injuries, and Anna was unsure she was prepared to hear how awful they'd been, especially after dealing with such a traumatizing event only a short time ago. In addition, perhaps Tavia didn't want to be accused of gossiping… and neither did Anna. Still, she couldn't help that he'd peaked her curiosity. Especially his protective nature.
"He probably saved my life this eve," Anna said, turning her head toward the other woman. "Certainly, he prevented that beast from forcing himself on me. For that, I'll be ever in his debt."
"He would never expect repayment, lass. 'Tis simple—he doesn't want to see others harmed and abused as he was." Tavia pressed her fingers along Anna's backbone. "Are you married?"
Anna shook her head, thinking of John, her beloved husband, sudden tears stinging her eyes. Though he had been a decade older than her, he had always treated her with great respect and she'd loved him for it. "Not anymore."
"You lost him?"
"Aye."
"I'm sorry. I lost my own husband as well. In battle, years ago."
"Oh. I'm sorry to hear of it."
"Of a certainty, we understand each other." Tavia stepped back. "Well, the bruises appear to be the worst of your injuries, thank the heavens. Those should fade in a week or two."
"I appreciate you looking me over." Anna arose from the bed and started dressing, wincing when a stitch of
Anna nodded. She was right, of course. Though she hadn't known Tavia long, she liked the healer, who appeared to be in her mid-thirties. "You are extremely loyal to him, are you not?"
"Of course. I have great respect for his lairdship."
Anna did, too. In fact, he was one of the few men she'd met, aside from her late husband, who was completely honorable. The way Neacal had carried her across the bailey had at first alarmed her, but once she realized he only wanted to help, she'd felt comforted and protected.
Female voices echoed in through the half open door from the corridor. "Did you hear?"
"What?"
"The laird killed one of his own guards, out behind the stables. He is mad, in truth!"
A flash of anger took hold of Anna. She shoved herself from the bed, despite Tavia's protests, and widened the door. "He is not mad," she told the two gossips. "'Twas a fair sword fight. The guard challenged the laird. What do you think he would do with someone so disloyal?"
They gaped at her wide-eyed. "How do you ken? Were you there?"
"Aye, I was." She closed the door and returned to the bed. "The chief is a good man," she said, lying down again. Irritation still simmered inside her.
"Indeed, he is," Tavia said, her green eyes more intense. "I'm glad more people are seeing this. I detest the rumors that he is mad. 'Tis true he is very troubled but he has a right to be."
"The servants were whispering that he was tortured in the past."
"Aye."
"What happened?" Anna asked.
"I know not all the details, but when his clansmen brought him back here, he was knocked out. If only you could've seen how severe his wounds were." She shook her head, sorrow in her eyes. "'Tis a miracle he survived at all."
Anna hated to imagine Neacal in such terrible shape. The scars on his face were evidence of how horribly he'd been treated. But how many more scars did he have beneath his clothes?
"Did you attend to his injuries?" Anna asked.
"Aye. Thanks be to God the lad is healed and stronger than ever before."
"He does appear strong." And the way he had easily carried her proved that. His arms and chest had felt as if they were made of steel.
"The scar on his face frightens some people," Tavia observed.
"Not me." Anna would mention her sister's facial scar, but then Tavia would ask what happened. 'Twas too dangerous to talk about the past.
Tavia allowed a small grin. "Can you turn onto your stomach so I can examine your back?"
Anna turned over, wanting to ask more about Neacal, but she wouldn't. Obviously, Tavia didn't want to discuss the details of his injuries, and Anna was unsure she was prepared to hear how awful they'd been, especially after dealing with such a traumatizing event only a short time ago. In addition, perhaps Tavia didn't want to be accused of gossiping… and neither did Anna. Still, she couldn't help that he'd peaked her curiosity. Especially his protective nature.
"He probably saved my life this eve," Anna said, turning her head toward the other woman. "Certainly, he prevented that beast from forcing himself on me. For that, I'll be ever in his debt."
"He would never expect repayment, lass. 'Tis simple—he doesn't want to see others harmed and abused as he was." Tavia pressed her fingers along Anna's backbone. "Are you married?"
Anna shook her head, thinking of John, her beloved husband, sudden tears stinging her eyes. Though he had been a decade older than her, he had always treated her with great respect and she'd loved him for it. "Not anymore."
"You lost him?"
"Aye."
"I'm sorry. I lost my own husband as well. In battle, years ago."
"Oh. I'm sorry to hear of it."
"Of a certainty, we understand each other." Tavia stepped back. "Well, the bruises appear to be the worst of your injuries, thank the heavens. Those should fade in a week or two."
"I appreciate you looking me over." Anna arose from the bed and started dressing, wincing when a stitch of
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