Page 31 of The Laird’s Lost Wife

The carriage slowly rolled to a halt. For a few seconds, they all sat there, silent. With the rattle of the wheels having faded away, Daphne could hear other noises. She heard the murmur of conversation, the sound of many different voices all talking together.

The distant singing of washerwomen and maids drifted on the breeze. The wind raked across the courtyard, and somewhere, drying laundry snapped on the line. A woman laughed raucously, and a dog gave an eager bark.

Opposite her, Lady Pilbury stirred, pressing the back of her thin hand against her eyes. “Why, we’ve stopped,” she croaked.

“Aye, we’re here,” Helena confirmed, leaning forward with a grin. “We’re home!”

Lady Pilbury blinked, shaking her head as if to wake herself. “Oh, what a pity. I missed the view over the last few hours. I can’t say that I cared for the last few days of travel, but I hoped to see the last leg of the journey.”

“Ahh, daenae worry about that. Ye will get a finer view from the top of the walls than ye would from the roadway.”

“I… I don’t know if I can,” Lady Pilbury stammered weakly. “Climb to the top of the walls, I mean. My chest is terribly tight. Daphne, my dear, have you my medicine?”

At once, Daphne reached into the bag at her feet and drew out a small vial. She handed it wordlessly to Lady Pilbury, who pulled out the cork and took a careful sip. Usually, the tonic brought a little color to her cheeks, but today she remained pale.

On cue, the door flew open. Hunter stood there, his face impassive.

Daphne avoided his gaze. She’d avoided looking at him since that incident in the forest.

It had to be him, did it nae? He had to be the one who saw me snap at Willow.

She wasn’t sure how far she believed that he was here to take Willow. Of course, it wouldn’t be the first time a laird flexed his muscles and stole away a bastard child against the will of the mother.

Hunter isnae like that, came a thought.

How do ye ken?

But there was no sense in worrying about that now. At that moment, they were in Keep MacCrimmon, with Laird MacCrimmon himself standing before them, his gaze sharp.

“Lady Pilbury is ill,” Daphne said at once. “I have her medicine. Can ye summon a physician?”

“Aye, one of the keep healers is here,” Hunter responded. “Rhiannon, where are ye?”

A diminutive young woman, no more than five feet tall, came prancing forward. She wore a long green cloak that brushed the ground and a threadbare gown that had probably been blue once. A utility belt hung low over her hips, crammed with boxes, bags, and vials of all descriptions. She wore her dark hair short-cropped around her ears, and with her round, freckled face and upturned nose, she reminded Daphne of nothing so much as a pixie.

Wordlessly, Daphne scrambled out of the carriage. Willow leaped down after her, clinging to her skirts and peering around, uncertain. Next, she and Helena did their best to hand down Lady Pilbury.

Lady Pilbury managed to step down, but with difficulty, her legs shaking and scarcely holding her up.

That was when Rhiannon stepped up to her, sharp eyes taking in the Englishwoman from head to foot.

“Come with me,” she ordered. “I ken where ye rooms are to be. Ye must rest, and then I’ll prepare ye a tonic. Lean on me, I’m quite strong.”

Lady Pilbury blinked at her, baffled. “You are the physician?”

“I am a healer.” Rhiannon smiled.

“A… A midwife?” Lady Pilbury stammered.

Rhiannon cocked her head. “Why, me Lady, are ye with child?”

Lady Pilbury gave a tired chuckle. “No, my dear. Forgive me, I have just never seen a female doctor before, only midwives.”

“Then what an exciting day this is for us both,” Rhiannon responded brusquely. “Come, I will take ye to yer rooms.”

“I’ll come along,” Helena volunteered. She threw a sharp, thoughtful glance at Daphne. “May I take Willow? She’s so very helpful.”

Daphne glanced down at her daughter.