Page 44 of Dorchad

“You’re welcome.” If the maid wanted to confide in her about the real cause of her injuries she would, but Rebecca still wanted to let her know that she could keep her mouth shut. “In my time, healers are not allowed to talk about their practice to anyone without the permission of their patients. I plan to do the same here.”

“And if the chieftain commands you tell him?” Sheona gave her a rather snide look. “You serve him as his bed wench now. ’Tis worse than being a hoor, for at least they earn coin on their backs.”

“Who says I stay on my back?” she chided gently. “And to answer your question, no, I wouldn’t tell my lover, even if Dorchad orders me to. When I became a doctor I swore an oath that includes a promise to respect the privacy of my patients. The reason they disclose their problems to me is not something for the rest of the world to know. My loyalty to you comes before my loyalty to the chieftain.”

For a moment Sheona looked as if she might start crying, and then she blinked hard and looked away. “You’re a fool, then.”

“Probably.” After applying the sticky burn salve she used some clean linen strips to loosely bandage the maid’s hands. “Try to keep your hands dry, and come back and see me in the morning so I can change these bandages. You’re not to do any more work until these burns heal. I’ll speak to Seneschal about excusing you from your duties.”

“Shall you bathe and feed me as well?” Sheona asked, sniffing loudly.

“If you’d like me to, I will,” Rebecca said with a straight face. “Or you can ask one of your friends to help.”

“I’ve no friends here, Healer.” The maid flounced out, slamming the door behind her.

After tidying up Rebecca did a brief inventory of the infirmary’s stocks, and then went downstairs to find Sgathan. Dorchad’s twin was at the back passage unloading a cart laden with split wood, which he handed off to some clansmen tossing it inside a huge open-sided shed.

“Can I have a word with you, please, Seneschal?” Rebecca asked, and then stepped back as he swung around as if he meant to club her with the length of oak in his hands. “If you’re busy, of course–”

“’Tis fine.” He tossed the wood to the men before escorting her away from the cart and back into the stronghold. He then stared at the wall next to her. “What do you want now, Healer?”

His charming reputation was going to become tarnished if he kept talking to her like she was a nuisance, Rebecca thought. “Sheona, one of the maids, is injured. Because of her wounds she won’t be able to work for a week or two.”

“The lazy slut hurt herself again?” He threw up his hands as if at the end of his rope. “Mayhap ’tis time for her to go to the town brothel and earn her keep there.”

In that moment Rebecca understood why Lucy so disliked Sgathan, who despite his handsome looks talked like a complete jerk.

“This young lady will need some assistance with taking care of herself until she recovers,” she said through slightly gritted teeth, “so if you would spare a maid to help her, I’d appreciate it.”

His jaw tightened. “You reckon you’ll become seneschal as well as the clan’s healer, then?”

“I’m sorry. I was told that you MacRune don’t abuse your vassals here. Was that untrue?” As he made an impatient gesture she drew on the last of her patience to explain better. “Look, Sheona has second degree burns on her hands, which are blistered, so she can’t work until they heal. Or you can keep forcing her to, in which case her wounds will probably become septic on top of her suffering a great deal of pain. Actually, no, I’m not going to let you do that. If you can’t spare anyone then I’ll look after her myself. She doesn’t work again until I give her permission. Do you understand me?”

Sgathan finally met her gaze. “You wish challenge my rule over the household, wench?”

“From what Lord Tair told me about my new position, on matters of medical issues I outrank everyone but him and your brother.” She wanted to punch him so badly she clasped her hands behind her back to stop herself. “Until she heals I am in charge of Sheona, not you. If you have a problem with that, talk to the laird.”

Walking away from him before he could reply made her break out into a cold sweat; she had to shake this terrible urge to go back and sock him in his smug face. Whatever made the seneschal such a nasty, misogynistic ass wasn’t her problem. She had been polite, and everything she’d told him was true. If he screwed with her patient after this, then she would let the laird deal with him.

Does anyone even know how much that man hates women?

Her next stop was the outdoor laundry where Sheona brought soiled linens and garments to be washed in huge vats of water. She was surprised to see that the women working there knew how to clean all different types of textiles, often using cold water on the most delicate. They had even stretched washed woolens on different types of blocking boards to dry.

“I’m head laundress Kena, Healer. How may we serve?” an older woman asked as she looked up from a basin in which she was handwashing something.

Rebecca smiled. “I just treated Sheona for burns on her hands. She won’t be able to come back to work until they heal.” Before she could utter Sgathan’s name she added, “I’ve spoken to Seneschal about this."

“Och, good. He’s been in a mood of late.” Kena frowned. “You said she burned her hands?”

“Yes, in an accident while she was visiting her home in the village,” she said. When the older woman made a disgusted sound, she asked, “If you need someone to replace her, I’ll speak to the laird and see if one of the kitchen maids can help out.”

“’Tisnae that, Healer.” She looked at the other women working near them before she came closer and said in a lower voice, “Sheona’s an orphan from the midlands, and never dwelled in the village. When she came to the highlands she claimed that all her kin died during the pestilence. She goes to the village only to meet her swains, and she...collects many.”

No wonder the maid had lied. She’d have to find out the real story behind her injuries, but for now she needed to have someone help her. “Is there any other woman at Gealladh she considers a friend?”

Kena thought for a moment. “Garia, mayhap. She’s a pleasant lass and doesnae hold a grudge. The other maids...” She glanced over her shoulder and then shook her head. “Sheona’s midland ways, they’re strange to us. The lasses here also dinnae care for her sharp tongue and appetite for men.”

Now she had a better handle on why the maid had been so hostile. “I’ll check and see if Garia would be willing to help her while she’s recovering. Thank you, ah, my lady.”