Page 65 of Bride of the Mad Laird
Lyra nodded.
“Let me get this clear in me mind. Ye believe that because he has offered tae escort ye, he daesnae care fer ye.”
“Aye,” Lyra blurted out. “He daesnae wish tae wed me but tae rid himself of me troublesome company.”
Eilidh laughed. “One minute ye tell me he daesnae care fer ye, only wishes tae wed ye fer yer lands. But then ye say he daesnae care fer ye when he offers tae give ye what ye wish fer most of all.”
Lyra nodded. “I see more clearly. Both things cannae be true. If it were only me lands he wished fer, he’d nae grant whatIwish.”
“And that can only mean...?”
“That mayhap he daes care. A little.”
Eilidh squeezed her hand. “And is returning tae yer clan yer most fervent desire.”
“Aye. I wish most fervently tae be returned tae me home. ‘Tis true. But I quail at the prospect of returning alone. I dinnae ken if I am remembered.”
“And what of yer clan? Are they ready tae dae battle wi’ the Laird Alexander MacDougall? Fer ye must be aware that he will hunt ye down and seize ye when he can. Are ye prepared tae bring down his wrath on yer unsuspecting clan?”
Lyra clutched her hands around her belly and uttered a tiny moan of anguish. “Why, I’d nae thought it through. I was selfish, only considering meself. I didnae wish tae create trouble fer the MacKinnons, yet...”
“Yet, Laird Tòrr is prepared tae risk war fer yer sake?”
“I thought it was because of me lands. Yet he’s fought fer me and saved me four times.” This realization struck home and Lyra clutched at Eilidh’s hand, the tears flowing again. “Nay,” she said, recalling the events from only two nights ago. “He’s saved me five times, and each time he has risked his life fer me.”
“Ah.” Eilidh said, nodding. “Mayhap ye are beginning tae see yer way through the clouds in yer head.”
She got to her feet with the empty mugs. “Now, I have work tae dae. There is time enough to allow yerself tae dream awhile and the right decision will come tae ye.
Lyra thought this through. She understood herself a little better now and the decision she would make was becoming clearer.
“Thank ye, Eilidh. May I assist ye wi’ yer tasks?”
Eilidh nodded, pointing to a bowl of herbs on the table next to her mortar and pestle.
“I’d be glad fer someone to grind all these intae a paste so I can get on with making me salves.”
Lyra rolled up her sleeves and began the task. The air was soon filled with the aroma of mint and thyme as she crushed the leaves so that Eilidh could mixed them with an assortment of oils to make her elixirs.
As she added each of the oils, she named it and its magical properties of healing. Lyra was entranced. “I think it a privilege that ye teach me more of healing. I learned a little at the nunnery, but I wish tae ken more.”
Eilidh was happy to oblige and for the remainder of the morning and into the afternoon the two of them worked side-by-side. Eilidh instructing Lyra to make tisanes from dried herbs, and poultices for bruises and pain, explaining, as she went, the healing properties contained within each plant and herb, whether roots, leaves or flowers.
The hours passed quickly and by the time the sun was low in the sky and the shadows were lengthening, Lyra discovered her problems had shrunk and her head was clearer.
Eilidh took the last of the potions from the fire to cool and untied her apron. “If ye wish tae come and lend a hand ye’re welcome any time. I await whatever news will come from the decision ye make.”
She accompanied Lyra to the door. “Blessings go wi’ ye, me lady."
Lyra returned to the keep with a confident step. It was good to be useful, days of idleness in the solar or strolling aimlessly in the garden did not sit well with her. She made up her mind to spend more time with Eilidh being instructed in the arts of healing and to ask Claray to find wool for her to spin and dye so she could begin to embroider a tapestry.
That is, if she decided to stay at Castle Dùn Ara.
She was halfway up the stairs when Claray called to her.
“D’ye wish me to serve yer supper in the solar and nae the refectory, me lady?”
“I would appreciate that, thank ye, Claray.” Her appetite had returned and she was famished after only eating a couple of Eilidh’s dainty offerings at noontime. “Is no one dining in the hall this evening?”
