Page 76 of Ghost of the Ton

“I’m always cooking a bit of venison, though Murdoch likes to take his share. But he’s a man, so he needs it.”

“So do you,” Mia said. “You should take more for yourself—set some aside when he’s not looking?”

“Och, I dinnae know if I could…”

“Think of it as your way of ensuring that you get better. Murdoch wants you better, doesn’t he?”

Mia could still see uncertainty in the other woman’s eyes, so she plucked a jar from her shelf filled with dried leaves.

“These will help,” she said, “either taken as a tea, or you could add them to a stew. And”—she hesitated, unwilling to cross the boundary between patient and friend, particularly if she was to leave Glenblath—“you can visit me any time for tea—or luncheon, on a day like today when your husband and son are not…in need of you.”

“I-I dinnae know, ma’am. I’ve no money to pay ye.”

“There’s no need for payment,” Mia said, and Evie’s mouth creased into a grimace.

“I dinnae need charity.”

“I’m not offering it,” Mia said. “I made an agreement with Hamish that while I remain here, I’ll treat anyone who needs me at no cost.”

“Aye,” Brodie said. “I heard Master Hamish say that myself.”

At length, Evie nodded. “Thank ye, ma’am.”

“And you promise to visit me when you can?” Mia said.

“Aye.”

“Make sure ye do, cousin,” Brodie said. “Ye can always tell Murdoch ye’re visiting me.”

Mia took a handful of leaves from the jar and wrapped them in a cloth. “Here you go,” she said. “There are plenty growing hereabouts. I’ll point them out next time you come if you’d like to gather them for yourself.”

“I-I’d like that,” Evie replied, then, as the clock over the mantelshelf struck six, she rose to her feet and teetered to one side, and Brodie caught her arm. “Oh!” she cried. “Murdoch will be home soon.”

“Come along, cousin,” Brodie said, offering his arm. “I’ll take ye.”

He steered her to the door, Mia following. As they stepped outside, Mia caught sight of a figure approaching the cottage. The figure stopped and Mia called out, “Who’s there?”

It was Hamish’s sister.

“Iona? Is that you?” Mia said.

Brodie drew in a sharp breath.

“What’s it to ye?” Iona sneered.

“Iona—” Brodie began, but the girl let out a laugh.

“What are ye doing here, Brodie?” she said. “Wanting a potion to turn ye into a man? I doubt even she’d have something for that.”

“Iona, there’s no need—” Evie began, her voice carrying an undertone of steel in defense of Brodie, but Iona merely laughed.

“There’s nothing for ye here, Evie MacLennan—I thought ye knew better than to visit the Sassenach witch. Does Murdoch know ye’re here?”

“No—please…”

“Iona, that’s enough!” Mia said. “Insult me all you like, but you’ve no right to insult others merely for wanting a little help.”

“I’ll say what I like!” Iona cried, her voice tight with emotion as if she were about to burst into tears. Then she turned and fled, and Mia could swear she heard sobbing.