Page 36 of The Tempting of Thomas Carrick
After a long moment, still frowning, Nolan glanced at Nigel, then said, “I still don’t understand, cuz, why you didn’t simply send a message. Nigel would have seen the Bradshaws dealt with.”
Thomas hung on to his temper. “As it happened, I had reason to speak with Manachan—and I’m shocked that he’s been allowed to sink to his present state. But that aside, as to the Bradshaws, in case you’ve already forgotten, Nigel wasn’t here. You were both in Ayr and not here to consult.” He had to wonder what they’d been doing in the seaside town, but now was patently not the time to inquire.
Nolan shrugged negligently. “I don’t know why you think you need to concern yourself with Papa—you don’t. And the matter with the Bradshaws couldn’t have been that urgent. They could have waited.”
“As a matter of fact, they couldn’t.” Lucilla chose that moment to walk out from the stairway hall.
Thomas suspected she’d been lurking there for some time; since Nigel and Nolan had walked into the front hall, his nerves had been flickering in the way they did whenever she was near.
The effect of her appearance on his cousins was nothing short of shock—if she’d slapped them, she couldn’t have stunned them more.
“Good afternoon, Nigel.” Lucilla halted beside Thomas and inclined her head, first to Nigel, then Nolan. She saw no reason to offer them her hand; after hearing what they’d said, she didn’t wish to encourage them even that far.
Both stared at her. Their expressions were not so much blank as suggestive of a medley of largely suppressed emotions.
She stared back at them, then, raising her chin slightly, she allowed the hauteur she’d learned from her grandmother to seep into her eyes.
Nigel belatedly remembered his manners. He bowed rather stiffly. “Miss Cynster.”
Nolan inclined his head and echoed the words.
“Regarding the Bradshaws.” She paused to confirm that she had the pair’s full attention. “If your cousin had not gone to the farmhouse when he did, found Joy Burns dying and immediately fetched me as he did, if we hadn’t discovered that the well was tainted and he hadn’t fetched fresh water, the Bradshaws almost certainly would have died, and anyone who arrived to help them and who drank their water would have fallen severely ill, as well.”
She’d caught and held Nigel’s gaze. She continued to hold it mercilessly. “You were not here to act for your clansmen. Thomas was, and did. As acting-laird, you owe him thanks, although your father has already proffered his.”
Shutting her lips, she waited, letting silence act for her and exact further penance from Nigel and his brother.
The pair had paled, but she doubted it was from shock, not now—more from suppressed anger. She was getting the impression that too few people in their isolated lives spoke to them so directly.
Certainly, she—and her plain speaking—appeared to be something to which neither had any idea how to respond.
“Ah.” If Nigel had been holding a hat he would have been mangling it. “I—ah, take it you’ve been assisting the new healer. On behalf of the clan, you have our thanks.”
Lucilla managed to keep her eyes from narrowing. “I fear your gratitude is premature. I will be overseeing the settling in of Joy Burns’s apprentice into the healer’s role, but that will have to wait until she, the apprentice, arrives.” She arched a brow in haughty question. “I gather she has to travel some distance to reach here.”
While she didn’t know how far away the Wattses’ farm was, she did wonder if Nigel—the acting-laird—had any idea who the clan’s healer’s apprentice was.
“Ah…” Nigel glanced at Nolan but got no help there; Nolan looked equally blank. Looking back at Lucilla, Nigel essayed a smile. “I daresay she’ll be here as quick as she can. But I fear I must leave you to Thomas to entertain.” He waved at the dust coating his top boots. “I should change before dinner.” Nigel glanced at Nolan, then looked back at Lucilla, and smiled again. “If you’ll excuse us.”
She didn’t smile back, but inclined her head. “Of course.”
Nigel’s face hardened as he looked at Thomas. “Cuz—until later.”
The pair moved past Thomas and Lucilla and headed for the stairs.
Thomas didn’t turn to watch them go but, instead, met Lucilla’s eyes as she looked up at him. She’d just defended him—unnecessarily, but still—and he wasn’t sure how to react, or even if he should.
His cousins had paused at the bottom of the stairs. Both he and Lucilla heard a whispered question, the tone too low for them to make out the words.
They turned as Nigel reappeared under the archway. “Ah—we just wondered”—his gaze included them both—“if you were staying for dinner.”
Thomas replied with a bald “Yes.”
Beside him, Lucilla inclined her head regally. “I’ll be staying until I’m satisfied that Alice Watts has settled in as the clan’s new healer. That will likely be several days.”
Nigel’s smile was forced. “In that case,” he said, “we’ll see you later.” With a vague salute, he turned back to the stairs.
Thomas stood beside Lucilla and listened to Nigel’s and Nolan’s boots thud up the stairs, and wondered, yet again, just what was going on.
