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The old woman straightened and looked at Amber, her bright eyes sparkling with curiosity. She was small and dressed in a simple brown dress and a white kerchief on her head. Her face was leathery and wrinkled.
Amy sat up. “Amber, this is Isbeil. She’s Glenkeld Castle’s healer.”
Isbeil leaned over the bed and picked up her basket. “Another one from yer time?” she asked casually.
Amber was rooted to the spot, not sure she’d heard the woman correctly. Amy chuckled. “Yeah. She knows. Nothing can get past Isbeil.”
Isbeil gave out a small, humorless chuckle. “I can practically smell the faerie magic around ye two.”
“You know about faeries?” Amber said. “Is that who Sìneag is?”
“Oh, aye. ’Tis the faerie that plays with destinies.” She looked at Amy, and her eyes softened. “Yer babe is fine, and ye’re, too. ’Tis a little early for the womb to tighten like so, but ye’re still closed. Dinna fash yerself.”
“Thanks.”
Without saying another word, Isbeil left the room. Amber watched her in fascination. The woman looked ancient and yet appeared full of energy and moved swiftly.
“How does she know?” Amber said when the door closed behind Isbeil.
“Your accent. But she’ll keep her mouth shut. I trust her. One thing about the Middle Ages is that people live so close, everyone’s in everyone’s business. They think I’m a weirdo, but they’re good people and have accepted me.”
Amber smiled and shook her head. “Yes, these times are so different from what I’m used to. Makes you appreciate more what we had, the freedom, the conveniences, doesn’t it?”
“Well, yes. But no conveniences in the world would make me abandon Craig. What we have, the happiness—no modern conveniences could ever trump that.”
Amber chuckled politely. Lucky her. Deliriously happy with Craig, having a family with him. Jealousy stung Amber. Amber was falling for Owen, but unlike Amy, she’d never be with the man she loved—not with anyone. She just couldn’t depend on a man. Or trust him. Especially one like Owen.
Besides, he’d said she should stay away from him. Her cheeks warmed in embarrassment as she remembered her pathetic attempt to kiss him. She shook her head to get rid of the thought. “Speaking of conveniences, do you happen to have any spare clothing? I’m still in this stinky English uniform, and we were on the road for days.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll give you a few of my dresses.” She stood up and threw an estimating glance at Amber. “Though I think they might be a bit too short for you. But I can ask my maid to make a dress in your size, no worries. You want to try something on?”
Amy leaned over one of the chests, and Amber pulled the tunic over her head.
“You have a maid?” she said.
Amy sighed. “I know. I have a maid. Sounds so posh. But you get used to this stuff. I refused in the beginning, but with time, I realized I couldn’t weave cloth, make dresses, do the laundry—and make no mistake, you have to wash everything by hand in cold water. There’s also running the kitchen, doing the cleaning… It’s a lot of work. Besides, it’s nice to know I’m giving a good girl the opportunity for honest labor. Here.” She handed Amber a blue dress, a pale-red dress, and a couple of undertunics.
“Thanks.”
Amber turned around to put the dresses on a chair so she could try one on, and she heard a gasp.
“Amber, what happened to your back?”
She froze. “I was flogged in Stirling.”
“Flogged? Hold on, let me have a look.” Amy came closer, and Amber felt a light touch on one of her sutures. “The wounds look good, though someone did a very rough job. But these stiches need to come out so you don’t get an infection. Do you want me to do that? I brought some medical supplies with me the second time around.”
“Can you do take them out?”
“Of course. Here, lie down,” she said. Amber lay on the bed, and Amy went to one of the chests and began rummaging in them.
“You still have your modern shoes, I see? Hold on to them. They’re so much warmer than these.” She showed Amber a leather shoe with a flat sole. “I’ll ask my maid to order some in the village for you. You’ll need them sooner than you think.”
“Thanks so much.”
She found a metal flask, no doubt from the twenty-first century, and something that looked like a first aid kit. “I wish there’d been someone for me in the beginning to help with all this stuff.”
She came back to the bed and placed her tools on the covers. She took out sharp scissors, tweezers, cotton swabs, and adhesive bandages. Wow, the woman was a miracle.
