The Witch of Black Isle by Keira Montclair
Chapter Seventeen
Jennet didn’t know what to say. “Forgive me for interrupting. I didn’t know you were interested in someone…”
His hand came up to stop her thoughts. “Jennet, I am not interested in her. I liked her when I was five and ten, but we parted ways and I’m pleased with it that way. She declared her feelings, but they are not returned.”
“She’s a beautiful lass. Blue eyes and yellow hair.”
“What do I care what color the eyes are if there is naught behind them but cunning? I prefer eyes that dress an intelligent and compassionate mind. The color doesn’t matter to me.”
She had to admit, he was getting better at saying the right things at the right time.
“What’s her name?”
“Cori. And she has two friends named Alva and Dunn.”
It finally dawned on her. “Oh, they are the ones who teased you so long ago?”
“Aye. Alva and Dunn were the two who touched me where no one should touch me and look what that experience did to me. To this day, I still fear that someone will reach under my plaid and touch me.”
Jennet stepped back and stared into his eyes. “Is that the whole reason, Ethan? Because if it is, there is an easy solution.”
“What?”
“Wear trews. You do not have to wear a plaid, and I think your brothers would understand. No one could touch you through your trews.”
“I asked my sire once and he refused, but he’s not here now. Mayhap I will.”
Jennet smiled at him and said, “I think you might be relieved a wee bit. Tell me about your wound. I wish to rebandage it, then put more poultice on it.”
Ethan looked at his shoulder. “There’s no more blood, and I didn’t see anything running. It looks like it will scab soon.”
“Oh, ’tis a good sign. If that’s the case, I’ll not change it until this eve or even on the morrow.”
“I accept that. There is a new healer who is interested in meeting the three healers we have.”
“Truly? Her name?”
“Rune is all I know, and Rune is a man, not a woman. He came to help our clan fight the curse, but since we’re now cured, he said he would meet up with other clans, look for another clan that is in need of a healer.”
“Where did he go?” She scanned the growing crowd, many erecting tents with goods to sell, others arranging tents behind the vendors to sleep in. A large number of people on Black Isle came to the festivals for the goods or the joy of bartering.
“He’s over there, setting up a tent for his healing business. I’ll show you.”
They wove their way through the colorful displays, the aroma of fresh baked bread, fruit tarts, and other foods floating through the air. The happiness brought on by a local festival exuded from every person they passed. It was more food than any clan could eat in a week, and at the same time seemed just right. The atmosphere reflected excess and joy, a celebration of the bounty that a successful clan brings, even one just recovered from a terrible setback. The midday meal would be offered soon, usually commencing about an hour or two after everyone arrived.
Ethan approached Rune, who’d found a spot to set up his tent, his son assisting him. Ethan stepped in to help with the posts while Jennet watched. Rune and Runi were both grateful. “That made light work of our task. Many thanks to you, Ethan.”
“My pleasure. I have brought one of the healers to introduce to you. This is Jennet Ramsay.”
“Ramsay? As in Brenna Ramsay? Are you related?” Rune appeared surprised to hear she was a Ramsay.
“Aye, she is my mother.”
“Brenna is a fine healer, one of Scotland’s finest. Mayhap we could chat one day. Compare ingredients in our finest poultices and potions, share our knowledge. I’ve been searching for a fine female healer.”
Jennet, in her typically blunt mannerism, simply asked, “Why?”
“To take as my wife. I think we would have much in common. Are you available, lass?”
Jennet said, “Aye.”
In the same breath, Ethan said, “Nay.”
Rune arched a brow at Ethan, but it was Jennet who said, “I’m not officially betrothed to anyone.”
Ethan cut in, “But I am most interested in the lady.”
“Fine, I’ll keep my distance, but I would still enjoy talking healing strategies with you, if you don’t mind.”
Ethan looked at her and nodded. “Go ahead. Discuss what you wish with him, and I’ll see you back in the great hall, unless you’d prefer I return to escort you myself.”
“Nay, I’m sure I’ll be fine, Ethan. There are too many around to be worried about an attack.”
Ethan nodded and left, his large frame towering over others.
Rune waited until Ethan was a distance away before he spoke to her. “You need to be careful about him, lass. If he’s pursuing you, think on it.”
Jennet didn’t try to hide her frown. “Why should I be careful about Ethan? He’s a fine, honorable Highlander.”
“We lived here long ago, and I have not been back for several years. But I do recall he was promised to another. At least, there’s a lass who thinks she belongs to him. And I can see in your eyes that he’s more than a friend to you. At least, ’tis what you’re hoping for.”
“I don’t know how you can know me at all.” She really wanted to give the man a sound opinion of her view of the differences between men and women, but she was saved from embarrassing herself. Brigid and Tara joined her.
Tara spoke up first. “Another healer? How pleased to see you here. There are many clans seeking a healer for their group. Clan Milton, Ross, MacHeth, and others. They are more concerned with keeping a healer on their land now that Clan Matheson lost so many. Some would prefer to find two.”
“Then I’ll have many places to go. Perhaps Clan Milton or Ross first.”
“We wish you luck. We’re off to check all the vendor stalls because I need new ribbons and some fabric,” Brigid said, steering Jennet away from the man. “Come, we must talk.”
Jennet didn’t really care, so she followed Brigid and Tara, anxious to visit with her dear cousins again. “We wished to get you alone so we could talk about your sire. Padraig said he found you two in the woods alone. I know what both our sires would say about that, so you must fill us in. We can stroll near the burn,” Brigid said.
Jennet supposed she’d have to be honest with everyone, and she could see no reason to elaborate or embellish. Always curt and to the point, she told them what happened. “I tried to fix my sire, but I failed. In the process, he tried to strike me, only stopped by Torrian. I was so upset that I left. I ran into Ethan later.”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Tara said, reaching for her hand and tugging her over to a nearby rock large enough for all of them to sit on. “You cannot just gloss over this, acting like nothing happened. You left a huge part out and I want to know all of it.”
Brigid nodded. “I feel the same way, cousin. Now tell us all.” She sat down and crossed her legs, since she was wearing leggings, having just come from the archery field.
Jennet shrugged. “There isn’t much to tell.”
“Aye, there is. Start explaining,” Tara said, her hard gaze telling Jennet she wasn’t going to give up. She took out a skin of wine and passed it around. “I thought we might enjoy this sometime today.”
Jennet took a small sip and rolled the flavor of the sweet grape wine across her tongue. “All right. Papa still has issues with fevers on and off, and he rarely gets out of bed. Mama is verra worried. He still has a wound that has copious amounts of drainage, so I proposed we clean it and scrub it hard. He didn’t like it and raised his hand to strike me when I tried to work on the painful section.” She paused to stare up at the gray sky, forcing her tears to stay inside. “I was so upset, I grabbed my bags, ran to the stable, found my horse, and left. I was set upon by reivers, but Ethan followed me and saved me from what would have been a horrible night.”
Brigid and Tara looked at each other, then both looked back at Jennet. Tara, clearly horrified by her explanation, or lack of it, asked, “’Tis all you have to say? You were taken captive and nearly raped, and you have no more to share? Were you not frightened out of your mind?” Tara grabbed her by the shoulders and wouldn’t let go, nearly shaking her. “Jennet, please share with us to ease your burden.”
Brigid added, “Getting abducted is traumatizing. You must have more to say about it. Were you not so scared that you cried or nearly fainted? I always was.”
“Aye, I was frightened, but I didn’t have much time to give it thorough consideration. I did the same I always do, I go into my mode of outthinking the bastards, just as I did when we were young, Brigid. ’Tis no different. I thought on what happened with Bearchun and came up with something that would scare the four men away on the spot.”
“Four?” Brigid asked, her face turning fierce as if she’d kill the bastards herself.
“Aye, but I thought of something, and it worked on three of them.”
Tara pointed her finger at Jennet. “Someday you’ll find yourself in true trouble because you don’t believe anyone will hurt you. You think you’re not pretty and you are. You’re beautiful. Why do you think the four men all wanted you? You need to understand you won’t always be able to get yourself out of everything with your mind.”
Jennet stared at her hands because she had no quick retort. Her mother had been telling her the same for years. But she was the least attractive of any of her cousins—Sorcha, Brigid, Tara, Kyla, Elizabeth, Catriona, the list went on and on.
“Not the fourth?” Brigid asked, still looking aghast at the conversation.
“Nay, he came back. Ethan saved me from him.” She glanced at Brigid, then Tara. “I admit once they were gone that I was thoroughly shaken. But while I’m in the middle of the threat, my mind is always churning out possibilities to help me escape.”
“What was the Bearchun story? Surely that blood-fainting is only useful for certain people.”
“I made up another,” Jennet said, leaning over and picking up a branch that had fallen from a tree. She began ripping all the leaves from it to give her something to focus on.
“What?” Tara’s hand moved to cover her throat as if she were afraid to ask. Her mother made the same movements. “And I’m a bit afraid to learn the truth, but I’m sure we’ll hear it soon enough.”
“How did you think of something while you were being held captive?” Brigid asked. “Your mind is amazing, Jennet. Even when we were young. I was terrified and screaming while you created stories full of trickery and calmed me at the same time. Do tell how you thought of it.”
Jennet took a deep breath, still staring at the clouds, and a small smile crept across her face just because she had outsmarted the bastards. She’d used their own fears against them. “I thought of what men treasure most and what they fear most. Since it was one and the same, it was easy to come up with an idea.”
“What do all men treasure most?” Tara’s puzzled look reminded Jennet that she was as innocent in matters between men and women as herself. But her aunt and uncle had contributed to her learning the ways of men with the help of their reputation, especially Aunt Gwyneth’s tendency to shoot an arrow at evil men, hitting them right between their legs.
“Their bollocks.”
Tara spewed the sip of wine she’d just taken, fortunately sending it to the ground and not on someone’s clothing. Then she glared at Jennet. “Be honest. Please. What you say is ridiculous.”
“Is it? A man fears getting hit in the bollocks more than anything because ’tis so painful. And they all have a certain pride in what is between their legs, as if their own apparatus is more appealing than anyone else’s. Other than the hair color, what’s the difference?”
Brigid spit her own wine out after that comment. “Jennet, I’ve never heard you be so crude.”
“Get used to it. I like it. I told the men that I was a witch and I cursed them all, promising them that a fork-tongued serpent would slither up their plaids in the night and cut their bollocks down the seam.”
Tara tipped her chin up and frowned. “I guess I am innocent because I don’t understand why that would scare them enough to run away. The snake would frighten me, but not them.”
Brigid covered her mouth and burst into an incredible attack of the giggles. “’Tis brilliant, Jennet. How I wish I had your mind.”
“Tell me. I don’t understand. Please?” Tara pleaded.
“Because a man has two bollocks and if they’re not attached, they’ll knock into each other whenever they move, so it would be a curse of constant pain.”
Jennet drawled, “Even worse when they run.”
The three giggled together, carrying on for a few moments until Brigid began to cry real tears from laughing so hard. But then she stopped abruptly, scowling. “But that scared only three? Why not the fourth?”
Jennet shrugged her shoulders. “He said he would risk it. Then I pointed to the blisters on my hand from the candle and told him I had the pox.”
“That didn’t stop him?”
“Nay, he said he already had it. ’Tis when Ethan saved me.”
Brigid looked aghast, her mind busy, but then she said, “I cannot believe you left on your own. And I cannot believe Ramsay warriors were not behind you.”
“They could be yet. I don’t think they would have missed me for half the day. I often go riding when I’m upset. My mother knows that. And my sire was so upset that he had Torrian, Kyle, and Gregor busy.”
Tara said, “Mayhap, but you can count on one thing for sure. Your brothers will have Ramsay warriors here soon. They’ll guess you’ve come here. And they’ll take you back in a hurry.”
“They’ll have a problem with that.”
“Why?” Brigid asked.
“Because I’m never going back.”