The Witch of Black Isle by Keira Montclair

Chapter Six

Ethan stood outside the door to the healing chamber. Everyone that came near, he sent away. The only one who’d gotten by him after he arrived was Logan, but, being Quade’s brother, Ethan had allowed him inside.

Of course Logan would have battered him senseless until he got his way if Ethan had refused him entry.

Fashioning himself a gatekeeper, Ethan explained to all others that Jennet had enough to deal with while her sire was ill, and she didn’t need anyone bothering her.

Torrian said, “I’m going in.”

“Leave her be, if you have any consideration for her. She has a fine mind that can tackle this illness, but if you interrupt her, you could ruin her process,” Ethan insisted.

“I won’t argue with you because you make sense, but who are you again?” Torrian said, crossing his arms in front of him. “I’m the laird here, so I’d like a full explanation.”

“I’m Marcas Matheson’s brother Ethan, and I came along to protect Lady Jennet.”

“Lady Jennet?”

“Aye, she’s of noble blood, so you’ll address her properly.” Ethan wouldn’t be dissuaded from his purpose.

“She’s my sister. I’ll speak to her however I like, but I’ll not address her as lady anything.” Then he spun on his heel and left the great hall, shaking his head all the way.

Ethan frowned, wondering how to handle that situation. He reflected on the fact that he still often referred to his brother as chief, though neither Shaw nor Gisela did so. They still called him Marcas.

Perhaps he’d have to change his thoughts on that.

Jennet came out of the chamber, her uncle directly behind her. She stopped in front of Ethan and mumbled to her uncle, “I’ll speak with him alone, please.”

Her uncle nodded, then moved back inside. Two women came out of the chamber from behind.

Jennet said, “Mama, Bethia, this is Ethan Matheson, younger brother of Marcas. Ethan, this is my mother, Lady Brenna, and my sister, Lady Bethia.”

“Greetings to you, ladies.” He gave a small bow.

“And why are you here, Ethan?” Bethia asked.

Jennet’s hands kneaded in front of her, and he had to wonder why she was so nervous. Fortunately, the only other person who was paying them any attention was Lily, and she came right over. Void of shyness, she stepped forward eagerly. “And my name is Lily, her other sister. You needn’t call me lady. My husband is still hoping I’ll start acting like one someday soon.” She giggled but stopped quickly, setting her hands behind her back.

Ethan cleared his throat and took a step back, as Lily was standing just a wee bit too close. “I’m here to protect Jennet. I came along on the journey to make sure she arrived safely. I’ll assist her in any way I can.” He gave a strong nod of affirmation.

Lily said, “’Tis an admirable cause, but I think there’s more. Why now, and why Jennet?”

Ethan explained, “Because I promised my brother, Shaw, that I would pursue her.”

“Why?” Lily asked, her eyes glittering with mischief.

“Lily,” Jennet pleaded, but her sister only gave her a dismissive wave of her hand.

“I am interested in Jennet.”

“Why?” Lily persisted.

“Because Jennet is unique. She is intelligent, thoughtful, compassionate, and I admire her for her mind.”

Lily and Bethia both turned to look at Jennet while Lady Brenna put both hands on Jennet’s shoulder. She glared at her other two daughters, though Ethan had no idea why. Then she said, “Welcome to Ramsay Castle, Ethan. You seem to understand my daughter well, and I will tell you that you are quite accurate. She is indeed unique. Would you care for something to eat? We have meat pies available, and I’m sure Lily would be happy to get you one. If you follow her, she’ll get you two if you like.”

Ethan nodded to Lily and said, “I would appreciate it. I am hungry.”

Lily gestured to him, but he refused to leave. “I must stay near Jennet.”

Lily laughed and said, “Of course you must! I’ll return shortly.”

Then he turned to ask the appropriate question. “How is your sire, Jennet? Have you determined what ails him yet?”

“I have barely examined him, Ethan. He spoke with me then fell asleep again. I need to speak with everyone to determine what his problem is. It takes time, and we just arrived.”

“Does your mother know that you and Brigid and Tara found the source of our sickness? You saved our clan.”

Jennet looked embarrassed by his compliments, so he decided to say no more. How he wished one of his brothers were here to tell him what to do. He felt like a fish lying on the bank of the firth trying to find its way back to the water, but all he wanted was to help her. If Jennet could solve the problem of her sire’s illness, then he could escort her back to Black Isle.

Could she work as quickly as they had on Matheson land? But when he thought back on what happened on Black Isle, he realized it had taken a sennight, at least. He would indeed need to be patient.

“What can I do to help you discover the problem expediently?”

“Truthfully, Ethan? You need to leave me alone.”

Devastated by her remark, Ethan did the only thing he could think to do. He spun on his heel and left.

“Nay, Ethan,” she called out to him. “My apologies to you.”

He heard her voice behind him, but he assumed that she was upset with him. That was a skill he’d learned when he was younger. Rather than stay until someone lost their patience and screamed at him, he found it was better to just walk away. He could talk with her on the morrow.

Fortunately, Jennet’s aunt came along to speak with him, the aunt he was most familiar with. She’d stayed on Black Isle with Brigid for quite a while. Gwyneth addressed him, stopping at a comfortable distance. “Ethan, would you care to learn how to shoot a bow and arrow? I know it was Marcas’s goal to have more of you trained as archers. We have quite a beautiful archery field here, if you’re interested. We have about an hour of light, so I could show you the basics. Then you may practice whenever you like.”

Logan came up next to him and drawled, “You have an offer from the top archer in all the land. Need you think on it? Go learn from her. ’Twill keep you out of Jennet’s way.”

Ethan glanced at Logan and had to agree that it sounded like a good way to spend his time. He’d attempted a wee bit with Gavin and Merewen back on Matheson land, but he hadn’t learned well enough yet.

Logan continued. “Surely you recall that it took the three lasses a while to fix your curse, did it not? ’Tis not work that happens quickly. It takes much thought and consideration. If you know anything about Jennet, she needs to think on her own.”

Gwyneth added, “Much like you, Ethan. Some people think better when they are alone and in the quiet while others prefer the noise.”

Logan added, “She needs all the morrow and the next day to work on this, so you’ll need something to keep you busy. Learn archery. My guess is you’ll be quite good at it.” He nearly clasped Ethan’s shoulder, but a look from Gwyneth stopped his hand in time. They understood him.

“Why would you think I’d be good at it?”

“Because archery takes a great deal of concentration. You have the ability to do that. I surely can’t. The expert here will teach you.”

He peeked back at Jennet, who took a few steps toward him and nodded.

“He’s right, Ethan. You’ll be a fine archer.”

He thought for a moment, then turned to Jennet and said, “As always, I’m at your service, Jennet. I’ll do as your aunt and uncle suggest and go to the archery field with your aunt, but if you have any need of me, I’ll return promptly.”

Lily came out of the kitchen and rushed over with two meat pies wrapped in linen. “Here you go. Take them with you. Aunt Gwyneth will definitely teach you what you need to know.”

He thanked Lily and followed Gwyneth to the door. He ignored the stares he received, but he didn’t miss the last comment.

Logan called out, “Love you, Gwynie! My thanks to you.”

Gwyneth glanced back over her shoulder and said, “You owe me.”

Logan chuckled and said, “Can’t wait. I’m already planning something for your sweet arse.”

Gwyneth snorted.

Ethan had no idea what they meant.

***

Bethia put her hand on Jennet’s shoulder and said, “I believe you need to rest. The night is nearly upon us, so don’t worry about Ethan. Aunt Gwyneth will keep an eye on him. We can chat a bit more, but you need to go to bed early. You’ll have all day on the morrow to talk with Mama. Once you two have the opportunity to talk and speak with Da again, you’ll start to think of possibilities.”

Jennet knew Bethia was right.

“You like Ethan, though?” her sister asked, her mother’s eyes watching her.

“I do. I didn’t expect him to follow me, so that has been a challenge. And just as a warning, Ethan does not like to be touched, so we must warn Lily. But the interest between us is just beginning. I would not have wanted him along, but he wouldn’t be dissuaded. I have too many important tasks here to worry about Ethan getting along with everyone.”

Bethia said, “I like him for you. My guess is his mind is as quick as yours. You and Brigid have been close forever, so it must have been hard to lose her to Marcas. My bet is Ethan struggles as well with all the changes in his clan. Losing his parents and so many others must have been difficult.”

“You’re right, Bethia. I’ll be more considerate.” She had forgotten he’d lost not just his brother to Brigid but so many others in his clan besides his parents.

Her mother said, “Sometimes you cannot think clearly unless you are well-rested.”

“And Mama, you need to take your own advice,” Bethia said, squeezing her mother’s shoulder. “Come, I told Donnan I’d be staying here this eve when I heard Jennet had arrived. He’ll take care of the bairns while I’m gone.” She turned to Jennet and said, “I’ll sleep in Brigid’s bed, and we can chat like old times.”

“I’d like that, Bethia.” Jennet adored Bethia. She had the wisdom of many men, but her compassionate nature was unusual. She was one of few who could help Jennet truly relax. Being around Bethia for the entire eve would be wonderful.

And she was exactly correct. Losing Brigid to Marcas had sent Jennet into a dark cave with no clear way out, something she hadn’t recognized for a few days. It had been Tara about a sennight after their wedding who said to her, “Do you feel like she’s deserted you?”

That comment had been like a hard slap in the face, but one that also clarified many of her feelings. She did indeed feel abandoned. Neglected, deserted, unloved. They’d been inseparable as far back as she could remember.

“Mama, off to bed with you,” Bethia directed, turning her mother around toward their father’s chamber.

“I’ll go. I’m exhausted. If I know you’re taking care of Jennet, I’ll sleep better.” She gave Jennet a quick hug and said, “I’m grateful you’re here. We’ll fix Papa. I’m sure of it now.” Then she went inside, peeking out and blowing a kiss to them.

Bethia said, “I promise to take excellent care of her.”

“I know. I’m so blessed with wonderful daughters,” Mama said, closing the door finally.

“She’s exhausted,” Bethia explained. “She just needs a good night’s sleep. Come, we’ll find a nice bottle of wine and go up to our chamber. I’m sure you have things you’d like to settle. Where did you set your bag?”

Jennet thought back to their arrival, just now realizing she’d not given any thought to her belongings, including her healer’s sack. She’d brought two bags, as always, but she was in such a rush to see her father that she’d forgotten.

Lily sat by the hearth with the twins, Lise and Liliana, now nine winters. “Ethan brought your things in and set them near the staircase.”

The twins hurried over to Jennet and spoke hurriedly, finishing each other’s thoughts in a most unusual way.

Lise started, “Aunt Jennet, will you…”

Liliana added, “…be able to fix Grandpapa? We surely do…”

Lise finished, “…miss him.”

The two golden heads often bobbed in unison. They looked exactly alike and were never apart. Jennet often compared her early life to theirs because she and Brigid had been similarly in sync. They’d followed her mother everywhere in their younger years, and when she was busy, they took to healing anyone they could find.

And their favorite event was when Tara would come for a visit and play healer with them.

Everything was different now, and she felt like it had happened without her even knowing it. And it was more than just Brigid’s wedding. They were now the healers, the ones everyone depended on to fix things.

Even her sire. Was she ready for the responsibility that came along with it?

Jennet knelt down to her two dear nieces and said, “We’ll fix him. It may take a while, but Grandpapa will be out in the great hall again.” She had to—he had to be here for her wedding.

Where had that thought come from? What wedding?

Jennet stood and said, “We’ll chat on the morrow, lassies. I am verra tired, so I am heading to my bed.”

Lise said, “Sweet dreams, Aunt…”

Liliana added, “…Jennet. We’ll be waiting.”

She grabbed her bags, grateful for Ethan’s thoughtfulness, then climbed the stairs. Bethia was behind her with the bottle of wine and two goblets.

Once inside, she set her bags down and emptied one into her chest, the one she’d used for years, but left her healer’s bag packed. That one she kept always at the ready, even keeping an extra outfit inside.

When she finished, she plopped onto the bed with a whoosh before bouncing back up to put on a night rail. “I am tired, Bethia. I’m going to sit up in bed for one glass of wine, then I’m going to sleep.”

“I think that’s a fine idea. But before you sleep, I’d like to hear about Ethan. You’ve never held an interest in a man before. What has changed? Is it because of Brigid? Or Black Isle? Or mayhap you’re not interested in him and you wish to rid yourself of his presence? Is he too persistent?”

Goodness, where was she to start? Jennet held her palm up to stop her sister. “Too many questions. I’ll do my best to explain, but I also have many questions for you.”

“I’ll answer if I can.”

Jennet sorted through her thoughts and many questions before she started. Whether due to her life experience or simple intuition, Jennet considered Bethia an expert when it came to giving out advice regarding female issues, so she needed to take advantage of having Bethia all to herself. “I have never been interested in any man before Ethan. I’m not sure if I am now, but I think so. ’Tis too new for me. I do miss Brigid, and I suppose I’m a bit jealous of her happiness. It could have been the mysticism we felt on Black Isle, but I think it was mostly because we were all away from home.”

“Because you had no parents around?” she asked, handing Jennet a goblet before she settled on top of the other bed where Brigid used to sleep.

“Aye, ’tis surely part of it. Or brothers and sisters to watch over us. It was quite freeing. Because of the sickness, it was a small group of people, thus I think we became more friendly. I like Ethan because he is unique and because he looks at me like I’m special. He views things much like I do. He’s organized, he likes numbers, he believes in facts, not stories or tales.”

“Do you think he’s handsome?”

She sighed before she could catch herself and Bethia giggled. “You do.”

“I suppose I do. It’s odd because I know he’ll always protect me, stand by me, help me if I need it. Alone, we have good conversations. He came along because his brother suggested he pursue me, and to him, that meant he had to start following me, I think. Sometimes he takes everything too seriously, but he wouldn’t be dissuaded once he made his mind up.”

“Sounds like someone I know…”

“True, but there is one serious problem. Ethan does not like to be touched.” Jennet took a quick swig of her wine, then studied her sister to see how she would react. Oddly enough, she didn’t react visibly.

“Have you asked him about it?”

“Nay. What would I say? I think it would be most uncomfortable to discuss such a thing.” Jennet took another gulp of wine.

“It could be he doesn’t like strangers to touch him, or not when others are watching. He may want to touch you. Did you ever see him touching anyone?”

Jennet considered that for a moment because it was a good point. She had noticed him touching some people. Who? “You’re correct. He touches his family. The wee ones, Kara and Tiernay, often. And Gisela. And I often saw Marcas clasp his shoulder, and he’s never pulled away.”

“That is good, but it also tells me something. He is close to his family, and he is comfortable enough to trust them. But that also tells me something else.”

Jennet frowned. “What?” She brought her hand up to her mouth in an attempt to stifle her yawn.

“That something happened in Ethan’s past. Something that made him mistrust people who touch.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you must be careful discussing it with him, but ’tis also good news. If he is interested in you, if he trusts you, he may learn to enjoy your touch, but you must go about it carefully and slowly.”

Carefully she could do. Slow, however, was not usually part of the way she did things. She liked to work quickly and efficiently. Slow, to her, suggested ineptitude. But perhaps she could understand how careful and slow must work together.

“Jennet,” Bethia said in a way that made her wonder what was coming next. “I know you understand what happens between men and women because you are a healer and you deliver bairns. You’re old enough to have listened to all the chattering amongst the serving lasses in the kitchens and even the stable lads. But do you truly understand it all?”

Jennet blushed again, furious with herself for showing her weakness, but this topic now made her extremely uncomfortable.

Bethia moved closer so they faced each other, sitting cross-legged at the base of Jennet’s bed.

It was just like Brigid used to do. Jennet lifted her gaze to see what her sister would offer next, hoping she’d say something, anything at all, because she had no idea what to say herself.

“Did you and Brigid discuss her married life at all?”

That topic brought a misting to her eyes that was totally unexpected. How had Bethia guessed what had bothered her so much?

“Ah, she did not, did she?”

“She did make some vague comments about enjoying it, but I overheard her talking with Sorcha and Maggie and Gisela and she was much more explicit…everyone but me! She’s my cousin. She was always my best friend. Why wouldn’t she tell me all that happened?” She knew her words were coming out in a flourishing rush, but she didn’t care. She’d kept it inside for too long. “I overheard different things, and no one will tell me what they really mean.”

Bethia’s voice was soft but persistent. “Tell me what.”

“Like licking my nub and riding him hard and putting something in their mouths and making their husbands yell and how they screamed and sucking…sucking everything. I only understand sucking when bairns suckle at their mother’s breast. What are they talking about? I feel so foolish.” Finally, the tears erupted. She wasn’t just frustrated with her lack of understanding. She swiped at her eyes with a fury, her upper arm flinging her body fluids everywhere. “And fluids. What is it about all the fluids?” Embarrassed, she tried to hide from all the true reasons for her tears, and she couldn’t even look her dear sister in the face.

“Jennet,” her sister said, leaning forward and rubbing her knee. “This is not just about relations between two people. That part is easy. I can explain all that to you, and I promise to, but always remember they speak of pleasure. Of the pleasure that can be found in the marriage bed. When a couple starts out together, they are experimenting. Trying different things to see what brings the other one pleasure. And in a loving relationship, if you don’t wish to do something, you say nay and respect each other. We can talk specifics later, but I think your tears reflect more than that.”

Jennet’s tears burst from her as if she were standing at the top of a waterfall in the middle of a spring storm.

“I think it’s because of many things. You’re missing Brigid. You were missing your home, you’re worried about your father, about your mother, about the responsibility you have now that you are an adult healer. Am I right about any of them?”

She sobbed and nodded. How could Bethia know her so well?

“Which ones?”

She nodded, rubbing the wetness from her cheeks. “All of them.”

“And you’re confused about Ethan. Sweetie, ’tis the best part of love. Being confused and excited and afraid and all those things.”

“It is? But I’m not in love with him.”

“You don’t know for sure yet. That’s the first part, being confused, but don’t let it hold you back. Get to know him better. But I think the main reason you’re crying is because of something else.”

“What?”

“You’re exhausted. I promise I’ll tell you what all of that means on the morrow, but right now, I’m going to take your wine goblet and let you lie back and get settled. You need your sleep. Traveling is verra tiring. If you wish to help Papa, you need to be well-rested. Your brilliant mind won’t fail you.”

Jennet couldn’t argue with her sister, so she handed over her goblet and lay back. “Could you just tell me what some of those things mean before I fall asleep?”

“All right. Allow me to get into bed and I’ll explain all of it, if I can.”

Jennet lay back, pulling the furs up to her chin and moving to her side to look at her beloved sister. “Ride him hard. Tell me.”

“’Tis the best of all. You know we do it face-to-face for the most part, unlike animals. So we usually do it with the man on top, the way most men prefer, but the best way for a woman to reach her climax is to be on top of the man, and maneuver everything the way she likes. Love-making often becomes frantic, furious, and terrifically sweaty, and the best way to get to your climax quickly is to ride him hard. It just means the woman is on top.”

Jennet whispered, “Do you like to ride Donnan hard?”

“As often as I can,” Bethia replied with a grin.

Jennet smiled and closed her eyes. She never heard another word from her sister because her mind came to rest on a dark-haired man with gray eyes.

“You know what sounds the best?” Jennet whispered.

“What?”

“I think being on top means the woman is in control. I like the sound of that.”

Bethia chuckled. “You’ll like the feel of it even better.”