Page 27 of Connal

“Mayhap you should first tell me what ails you,” he suggested.

“Your laird ails me. His gigantic ego really ails me. Being stuck on an island in the twelfth century with both of them completely ails me.” Valerie moved restlessly around the chamber, stopping briefly in front of the cabinet he always kept locked. “Obviously all that put me in a very bad mood, and now I’m in pain.”

Duncan gestured to a stool, and when she sat down he brought over a candle and looked into her eyes. “’Twas truly a mood? You didnae fall?”

“No, I’m simply very upset about things I’ll never be able to change, and that makes my head hurt.” She glanced at his hands. “If you put on gloves I won’t be able to read your mind. I just discovered that my new superpower requires skin contact.”

“An interesting boon.” He pulled on the thin leather gloves he wore while handling hot crockery and tilted up her chin to survey her color. The flush of her cheeks matched her lips, which suggested her temper was not feigned. “Connal hasnae aggravated anyone in some time.”

“Spend a few hours with him, and you’ll have to revise that statement.” As he went to his cabinet she sighed. “I really don’t understand why I’m so upset with him. I hardly know the man, and he’s certainly not interested in me.”

Duncan wondered if either of them knew how their expressions changed the moment they saw each other. “Since you came to Caladh I’ve seen my brother more oft in the last week than I’ve done the past year. I cannae believe ’tis because Cook’s pottage has improved.”

“Shaw thinks I should go to bed with the laird.” She uttered a helpless chuckle and shook her head. “That must be the answer to all of his problems.”

“I cannae tell you. The chieftain, he’s no’ inclined to confide in anyone.” He added some herbs and honey to a mug before filling it with some warm water, and stirred the mixture. “You shouldnae trifle with Shaw, Mistress. No’ that I reckon you would,” he added quickly when she glared at him.

“I don’t want to trifle with anyone on the island,” Valerie assured him, and when he brought the mug to her peered inside and sniffed. “What’s this? Some kind of ale?”

“’Tis a cure for your aching head.” He placed it in her hands. “Drink.”

She took a sip, made a face, and then downed the remainder. “I’m not a huge fan of the taste or the grittiness, but the sweetness helps a little. Really, though, what did you put in this? It tastes like herbal holiday ale.”

“’Tis an infusion of hops, chamomile, yarrow, honey, and some mint,” Duncan told her. “’Twill calm and soothe away your pain. Resting in your chamber with the lights out and window coverings drawn should help as well.”

“Good advice.” She handed back the empty mug. “What’s in the big cabinet over there?”

“A collection of sorts. Might I ask your aid in return, my lady?” When she nodded he picked up his medicine satchel. “We must go to the kitchens.”

From the infirmary he led Valerie down to the scullery, where the sound of a bairn crying reached them in the passage. He stepped into the storage room, where Lachina walked trying to soothe her infant son.

“Och, Healer, I’m glad you’ve come.” The kitchen maid’s under-shadowed eyes and drooping shoulders provided testimony to her sleepless night. “Wee Clydie refuses feed, and hasnae slept now twoday.” She saw Valerie and bobbed. “Forgive me, Mistress.”

Duncan leaned close. “The lad cannae tell me or his mother what plagues him. He doesnae suffer the colicus. Mayhap you might read his thoughts.”

“May I?” When she held out her arms Lachina handed her the squalling bairn, whom she cradled close. From the change in her expression, she knew at once what was wrong with the lad. “Hey, there, little one. Oh, yes, this is terrible, isn’t it? I know.”

Duncan watched closely as Valerie cooed to the bairn, and stroked his cheek gently with her fingertips. Gradually he quieted, and then stared up at her with drowsy eyes.

Valerie carried him over to the cradle where he slept while his mother worked, and unwrapped his soiled swaddling. That revealed a red, angry-looking rash between his legs. “Lachina, do you have a clean one of these? Duncan, can you get some cool water and a soft cloth?”

He fetched a bowl and a clean rag from the kitchen, and when he brought it back Valerie used it to gently bathe the bairn while explaining to Lachina how often to change his swaddling.

“It’s important to keep a baby’s bottom clean and dry. Wipe him down every time you change him. You can remove his diaper while he naps and just keep it beneath him in the cradle. The air will help the rash to heal faster.” Valerie glanced at him. “The healer should check on him, too.”

As soon as she wrapped clean swaddling around him the lad closed his eyes and went to sleep.

The kitchen maid knuckled away some tears. “My thanks, my lady.” She staggered over to the pallet next to the cradle, and lay down to watch her son. Valerie covered her with a blanket and then gestured for Duncan to follow her out, and led him into the great hall.

“You read the bairn’s thoughts perfectly,” he said, rather impressed by her ability.

“He has no language yet, so his thoughts are just images, which are blurry and confused,” she told him. “I knew what bothered him by the smell of his swaddling.”

A terrible thought occurred to him. “You’ve bairns of your own awaiting you in the future?”

“No, but as a teen I did a lot of babysitting. Is Clydie Lachina’s first child?” When he nodded she tapped a finger against her chin. “It seems like she hasn’t been changing or bathing him often enough. What she really needs is her mother to teach her how to take care of her son.”

“Her màthair chose to leave Caladh a few days after Lachina’s birth. She lives on the mainland, and doesnae remember her daughter.” Duncan thought for a moment. “One of the older chambermaids with two daughters, she’s fond of the lass. I shall ask her teach her proper care.”