The Highlander’s Healer (Blood of Duncliffe Series)

by Emilia Ferguson

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  He reached for tea, still smiling. Her soul soared. It was a beautiful morning, after all.

  While she was finishing her tea, and Alexander was eating a second bowl of porridge – he seemed to have acquired a massive appetite during the dance – the room slowly emptied. She stretched and pushed back her chair.

  “I should do my rounds,” she said.

  “Will you meet to talk, later?” he asked, sounding earnest. “Perhaps before luncheon, by the wall?”

  “Yes, of course,” she agreed, wondering what was so urgent.

  “Good.”

  The morning passed, as she had expected, in quiet labor in the room where Merrick prepared her remedies. Having somehow accepted her, Merrick worked alongside Prudence with no interference and very little overlap. She counseled and advised, Prudence handed out remedies and it seemed as if they both inhabited parallel worlds, neither encroaching on the other as they worked.

  Lunchtime arrived, and Prudence felt her heart start to thump.

  “I need to go,” she said to Merrick.

  “Then go, lass.”

  Prudence, smiling at that indisputable logic, went. She headed out into the sunlit courtyard. At the wall, she waited.

  Alexander arrived seconds later. His face was tense with worry. “Prudence,” he said, low-voiced. “We have to leave.”

  “Leave?” she asked, heart starting to thump with urgency.

  “Yes. I had word from my colonel. I don't know how they knew to get the message to me here. But he has sent word that we are needed without delay. The siege at Falkirk is failing. The men are moving on Culloden. We need to be there. It's going to be big.”

  Prudence stared at him. “We must go immediately?”

  “We must leave today. My detachment has reached Sunderland, and they need me to be there by sundown. We will have to ride most of today to do it.”

  “We must go at once.”

  “Yes.”

  They both looked at each other. Unexpectedly, he reached for her, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Prudence,” he said. “I want to say so many things to you.”

  “And I to you, dearest,” she whispered. The word came out of her mouth like a butterfly, soft and tender, and she felt herself flush, saying it.

  “Oh, Prudence,” he murmured. They kissed.

  When they moved back from one another, she looked up into his eyes. Her hand lay on his cheek. How could she risk parting from him, even for a second? She loved him as she had never imagined loving anyone before.

  They walked together, holding hands, indoors.

  When they met with Douglas in the hallway, it became clear to Prudence that he already knew. He was dressed in his cloak and seemed to have donned with it a mantle of brisk efficiency.

  “You have horses waiting for you. Change them at the inn, near Halford,” he told them. “And take what provisions you need. And a map.”

  “My thanks, Douglas,” Alexander said.

  The two men regarded each other with respect.

  “Take care,” Douglas said, and took his hand.

  “I will.”

  Then Marguerite arrived. She embraced Prudence, a display of genuine affection. It seemed to surprise both of them. Marguerite blinked back tears. “Know that you'll always find shelter here, Prudence,” she said. “And take care?”

  “Oh, milady,” Prudence murmured, gripping her in a tight embrace. “I will. You too.”

  They clung together a moment, then they were leaving.

  The day was clouding over, and Prudence drew her cloak around her as she mounted and rode.

  The woods were quiet, but the ground was dry and the roads unused and they covered ground quickly. Prudence had gained confidence as a rider and they covered ground quickly, heading west. They rode fast and spoke little, and reached the inn during the late afternoon, the shadows lengthening around them.

  They stopped to take a meal and to change horses.

  “Prudence,” Alexander said as they went to the stables later, “When I met you, I knew that there was something special about you. Something I wished to get to know.”

  “And I you,” she said. “Though I think at the time I was a little fascinated.”

  “Fascinated?” he chuckled. “Like a poisonous snake would fascinate?”

  “Probably.”

  They both laughed.

  “I was a little fascinated too,” he confessed. “I had never seen such an independent spirit. I wondered why you were like that. I wished to know everything about you.”

  “And I you.”

  They both smiled.

  “I thought you were a military widow,” he confessed.

  “Really?” she laughed.

  “Really.”

  They both smiled and Prudence realized he actually knew very little about her.

  “I worked for Claudine, the cousin of Marguerite,” she explained. “And when she met Brogan, her husband, I helped them. I carried news to milady's brother, Reid, when she was in need. She rewarded me with Newhurst Place. My little cottage.”

  “Oh.”

  They looked at each other sadly, each of them recalling, suddenly, the pain of her loss.

  “When this war is over, I will rebuild it with you.”

  Prudence stared at him in surprise. She felt as if springtime visited her heart, bringing life and sunshine. It was the first time he had ever so much as mentioned a future together. She swallowed. “You will?”

  “I promise I will.”

  They stared at each other. The wind rose and blew her hair back from her brow, at the same time lifting the auburn curls that framed his face. His cloak lifted and billowed about him. They were utterly silent, and it felt like the whole world stopped.

  Tenderly, she reached up and rested a hand on his cheek. He looked down into her eyes. It was a moment so fragile, and yet so solid, the earth could have turned about its axis.

  “When this war is over, you and I will be together.”

  Prudence swallowed hard. “I promise too.”

  They kissed. His lips brushed hers with melting tenderness, and it felt almost sacred.

  When they parted, he blinked, rapidly. Prudence felt her own eyes well with tears. She swallowed hard, forcing her voice to stay level. It was hard. “I reckon we ought to go, yes?”

  “Aye,” he nodded. “We have three or four hours' hard ride, at least, to reach Sunderland by sunset.”

  “Yes.”

  They were very busy suddenly, each of them, checking saddle-bags, checking girths, adjusting belts and fastenings. Prudence stepped up at the mounting block and looked back over her shoulder as he did the same. He swung into the saddle, lithely, cloak lifting in the wind.

  “Do you think this war will last?” Prudence asked as they rode into the woods.

  Alexander's eyes held hers, gaze level. “I pray this battle will be the end I hope for.”

  Prudence swallowed hard. It was a statement almost more ominous than anything else he could have said. This was, she suspected – they all did – the battle that would decide everything. Which way it went would change the outcome for a whole nation, writing their futures.

  The wind whipped past, a hollow coldness that made Prudence shiver. She looked across the little gap to Alexander, who rode beside her. His eyes held hers.

  Neither of them spoke.

  She could see an apology in his eyes, and a promise, and infinite care. His lips twisted into a smile so heart-rending she blinked, feeling tears there.

  She smiled back too, trying to put all her care, all her joy and love, and sorrow, into a single expression. She saw the moment when he saw. He nodded and, swallowing, looked away.

  “Come on, lass,” he said, choked. “We should ride. If we get to the fort by sundown, mayhap they'll have some supper for us.”

  “Yes,” she said, and smiled. “I'd like that.”

  Together, side by side, they
rode toward the fort.

  The sun was setting in a haze of orange fire on the hills when they rode through the gates. The road below their horses' hooves was in darkness, and Prudence only knew it was there by the steady clop of her borrowed horse's hooves far below. She was tired, almost asleep where she sat in the saddle.

  “Who goes there?” a sentry challenged as they rounded the hillside.

  Prudence, breathing in, could smell the scent of old fires and fresh gunpowder and recognized it as the smell of recent besieging. She felt raw panic fill her veins.

  “It's Captain Lachlann,” Alexander said. His voice had an edge to it Prudence had never heard before. It made her stiffen with courage, even as she glowed with pride to be riding beside this man.

  A glance sideways showed her a firm jaw, a straight back, and that auburn hair, lifting a little in the wind. Her stomach tingled with excitement, mixed with fear.

  “Lachlann, aye?” the voice said from the darkness. A man dressed in tartan walked forward and peered up at them, squinting toward Alexander in a suspicious way that made Prudence tense with worry.

  “Yes,” Alexander affirmed crisply. “I am here to take up leadership of the men under Jenkins.”

  “Aye?” the man said hesitatingly. “You got proof of that?”

  “I have papers from the colonel,” Alexander said levelly.

  Prudence, who knew him, thought he sounded impatient, but anyone else would just have heard a blank efficiency.

  “Well, you can bring them to him, then,” the fellow said dolorously. “Let's see what Colonel Brewer makes of it. Dismount. And you, too,” he said dismissively to Prudence.

  She didn't think he'd even looked at her. If he'd seen she was a woman, he might have reacted with surprise. As it was, she simply did as she was bidden. She walked over to stand beside Alexander, leading her horse.

  He looked back at her reassuringly. As they followed the sentry upwards, he tenderly took her hand, pressing his fingertips to it. She swallowed hard, seeking calm.

  “It'll all be settled when I've seen the colonel.”

  She nodded, but gripped his hand more tightly. Together, they passed into the fort.

  The gate was open and the wind blew through it from the hilltop, chillingly. Prudence felt it lift her riding cloak from round her and protectively clutched at the folds. Alexander looked over his shoulder at her, a tender glance.

  “Wait here,” the soldier said, bringing them to a low doorway of what must have been the town hall. Alexander held Prudence's hand as they waited. Two other soldiers approached, and stood behind them – a subtle but nonetheless menacing escort. Prudence shrank closer to Alexander, feeling scared.

  “Weapons, if you please,” one of the men behind them said.

  Alexander turned quickly, clearly bridling at the order. Prudence saw him shrug, then, and reach to his belt, producing a pistol she hadn't known he carried, and a long dagger of the type the Highlanders fought with.

  “Here,” he said.

  “You, too,” one of the men said to Prudence, Then, a pause, as he noticed, finally, the one fact they'd all missed thus far. “Um...Miss..?”

  “This is Miss Newhurst,” Alexander said levelly. “She's the battalion nurse. She has been with me to care for my wounds. You will treat her with due respect.”

  “Yes, sir,” one of the men said. The second just nodded. The third stared at Prudence in a way that made her hair rise. It wasn't as if she'd never seen admiring glances, but this was more than that. This was a lascivious stare that made her feel ill.

  She reached for Alexander's hand, but he was already turning to the door, which had suddenly opened.

  “In you go, miss,” the person staring said, grinning.

  Prudence fought the shamed, crawling feeling that passed over her body and turned to Alexander, following him inside.

  The hallway was, if anything, colder than the street had been, and she drew her cloak tight about her, glad that no one had thought to part her from it. Their footsteps sounded hollow on the flagstones, and they followed another soldier up the hallway, led by the light of a taper.

  “The captain will see you in his office,” the man said, leading them to a door, on which he knocked.

  Prudence and Alexander went inside. She looked up at the desk, surprised to see a man in his night-wear, a cap on his head, a cloak hastily pulled round him.

  “Captain Lachlann, eh?” he grunted. “You might have more taste than to call a fellow from his bed.”

  “Yes, I'm Lachlann,” Alexander said. “I came here on your orders, sir. My men await me.”

  “Aye, let's see the papers, and be done with it. A body needs sleep, and it's the one thing lacking around here. That, and decent cooking.”

  Prudence saw Alexander try not to smile. “Yes, sir.”

  He produced some papers, which the colonel, an elderly man with a big jaw and an earnest scowl, examined. He passed them to Alexander, grunting approval.

  “Aye, they're mine alright. Well, get you hence to wherever you can sleep, and take your man with you,” he added dismissively. Then his eyes alighted on Prudence and they warmed, approvingly. “Or, rather...”

  “This is Prudence. She is our battalion's new nurse.”

  “Ah! Splendid, splendid! Good fellow. Congratulations,” the colonel grinned, seeming to assume a relationship between them that hadn't been stated.

  “Thank you, sir,” Alexander said stiffly. Prudence was surprised to see that he seemed pleased.

  “Now, then. Get you gone, the both of you. I'll talk in the morning. Got a mind to get us all to Falkirk as fast as possible. We'll take the north road.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Prudence waited as Alexander saluted crisply, and the colonel favored her with a big smile. She kept close to Alexander and together they walked briskly from the room. Out in the corridor she started shivering again.

  “The officer's quarters are in the old inn, sir,” the man who'd led them there said, joining them again. “Follow me.”

  They walked after him together.

  At the door, he called out. “Sergeant McGrear?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  Prudence stiffened as the officer who'd leered at her answered the call. He saw her again and his eyes lit, like a fox, seeing prey. She held Alexander's hand tightly.

  “Take these two off to the inn. Find a place for them to sleep.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As McGrear led them off, Prudence kept close to Alexander. He didn't ask what the matter was, simply held her hand in the darkness as they passed down streets that must once have been filled with life.

  As they walked, Prudence became conscious that McGrear was trying to walk as close to her as possible. He kept stopping just in front of them, forcing her to squeeze past. The third time it happened, she stepped in front of Alexander, putting his presence between.

  When they finally reached the inn, she leaned against the closed door, shivering. Alexander frowned at her.

  “What is it, dearest?” he asked.

  Prudence shook her head. Don't burden him, she decided. He doesn't need more concerns.

  “It's nothing,” she said softly. “Just tired, that's all.”

  “Oh,” he said softly. “Of course. I'm sorry. I'm tired too. Come on,” he added, reaching for her hands. “Let's go and find somewhere to sleep.”

  “Somewhere to sleep?” Prudence whispered. “Alexander. I...you...” We are not married yet, she wanted to say. I do not want to risk that, not until we know what will happen. It's too risky.

  “I know,” he said, breathing the words as he embraced her. “I know, my dearest. And I swear I will not touch you, if you do not wish it. I just...I would feel easier with you near me. This place is not safe.”

  He has noticed, she decided, relieved. He saw the way that fellow tried to foist his attentions on me.

  The thought made her feel a little better. She leaned against Alexander, her longing fo
r him mixed with relief.

  “Come, then,” he said gently. “We will put a pallet in my room and I will sleep on it. You take the bed.”

  “But, Alexander,” she protested. “You're the wounded one!”

  He smiled down at her. It was dark in the hallway, and she could only see his teeth, glowing in the bluish light, and his warm, smiling eyes.

  “I assure you, with you as a healer, I am as good as recovered,” he promised. “Now, come on. We have to sleep.”

  She nodded wordlessly and followed him upstairs.

  They reached the room and she remembered little, save that they did as he suggested. He found a pallet in one of the other rooms and, dragging it in, covered it with a sheet and his cloak, and then turned to her.

  “Goodnight, my dearest,” he whispered in her ear. He kissed the top of her head and led her to the bed.

  She settled down on it, almost dropping with weariness. “Goodnight.”

  They kissed and she laid back, heart almost stopping with the exhaustion and her need for sleep. He went over to the pallet by the fire – she heard his boots echo hollowly on stone – and then she heard the shift of his body lying on the pallet, and then silence.

  “Oh, Alexander.”

  She whispered his name as she took off her cloak, slid out of her dress and, in her petticoats, clambered into bed. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  She slept and dreamed; dark and tangled dreams in which she ran through forests, pursued. She tried to call for Alexander, but he couldn't come. She woke to the gray light of dawn and the sound of carts, rumbling, and the shadow of a man in the window, long and lean and red-haired, stretching up toward the sunshine.

  ALL IS NOT AS IT SHOULD BE

  Alexander tenderly looked down at the woman sleeping on the bed. Her hair fanned out across the mattress, shining in the tender light of morning. Her pale skin glowed. He had to fight the urge to bend down and cover her face with kisses.

  “Good morning, my dearest.”

  He whispered it, feeling an oddly proud glow inside him. She was so beautiful, and she was here, with him, in a small room in the barracks. He felt his loins respond to that thought and bit back a smile.

  Alexander, stop it.

  Biting his lip in an effort to get control of himself, he headed back to the window and started getting ready for the morning.