The Witch of Black Isle by Keira Montclair
Chapter Nine
Jennet took three steps inside her father’s chamber and her heart dropped deep into the recesses of her belly so quickly she wished she could turn around and run away—far, far away. The person in the bed was not moving.
“Papa?” she asked in a quiet tone so as not to startle him. “’Tis me, Jennet. May I come in and chat with you a wee bit?”
The furs atop the bed moved, though she still could not see his face. She proceeded forward slowly, hoping to see any sign of visible improvement in him.
He stuck his head out of the covers and managed to push himself to a sitting position before falling back down. “My wee lassie. Come sit with me.”
Her breath came out in a whoosh, relieved he was able to converse with her. She grabbed a stool, then banked the fire in the hearth and lit another candle before sitting next to him.
“Papa, I’m here to help, but I wish for you to tell me everything you know about what has happened with this illness.”
He reached for her hand and tried to sit up, so she settled some pillows behind him, helping him to a position where he could see her clearly.
“There, is that better for you?”
“Aye, and I’m glad you’re here. I’ll thank my brother for getting you here in time. I need to speak with you, Jennet, and ’tis most important.”
“What is it? And what do you mean by in time? In time for what?” She didn’t like the implication he made. She did her best to hide the quivering in her voice.
“Never mind that right now. We need to have a father-daughter discussion.”
She decided to let it pass for now and focus on what was important to him. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”
“Lass, you have to find a man to marry. I’m unable to help you, but I trust you to use your own judgment. Brigid has found hers, and now you must feel deserted by her. There is someone out there for you, but you must take the time and put effort into finding your husband. Every lass needs a husband.”
“Nay, I don’t. I know not why you think I do. You’ve known I’m different, so why would you push a husband on me?” She tried to hold her tears inside, but the task was too much. Her eyes released a solitary drop that rolled down her cheek.
“Jennet, I adore your uniqueness, the fact that you can outthink any man, the fact that you love to pursue challenges of the mind, but don’t try to deny you have a heart too. A husband and bairns of your own will complete you, give you purpose in your life…”
She did not wish to hear this drivel, no different than what she’d heard so many others say to her before this. Why was her own value to be measured by the man she must marry? “I have purpose. I’m a healer, just like Mama and Aunt Jennie, and ’tis enough purpose for me.”
“Your mother and Aunt Jennie have husbands and bairns. Each brought a new healer to their clan through one of their daughters. Can you not foresee that happening to you? Imagine a daughter who you could discuss healing with. Or a son. Lads can be healers too. Your great-grandfather was a healer.”
She couldn’t argue his point, but she just hadn’t deemed it important yet. She’d seen only eight and ten summers, and she saw no reason to hurry into a marriage, though most lasses were married by the year they turned twenty.
“I won’t disagree with you, but ’tis too early. I have plenty of time, Papa.”
Her father paused, taking deep breaths and pursing his lips. She knew that look. It was what he did whenever he was preparing better arguments in his mind. “You may have plenty of time, and mayhap your mother, but I may not. I’d like to see you happily married before my time comes. I feel ’tis coming soon. All of my other bairns except my two adopted sweet ones are married, have children. Gregor and Linet are about to have their first. You are the only one I worry about. Do this before it’s too late for me to bless your marriage, to meet the special man who is strong enough for my bright, beautiful Jennet.”
“Nay, I’ll not hear of it again, Papa. You’re not dying. We’ll figure this out and get you out of this chamber again.”
His eyes closed in resignation. “I know you prefer not to hear it, but you must consider the possibility that my time is near.”
“Nay, I’ll not.” She could see he was tiring again, so she patted his hand and said, “Papa, rest. I’ll be back before the evening meal. I wish to look at your wound again.”
His eyes flew open and bore into her. “You’ll not touch it.”
“Later, Papa,” she mumbled, covering him up and getting him settled. She wasn’t ready to handle that argument yet.
But she would be touching that wound again.
***
Once Ethan returned from his swim, he left the stables and ran straight into Kyle Maule, Torrian’s second-in-command. Behind him approached a miniature Kyle he guessed to be mayhap five or six summers.
Kyle said, “Ethan, how was your practice? Is your archery improving? You’ll not find a better teacher anywhere than on Ramsay land.”
The lad said, “The best on Ramsay land.”
Kyle patted the boy’s dark hair. Ethan noticed the lad dressed exactly the same as his father, even wore his wooden sword the same. “This is my son, Kyler.”
Kyler repeated, “I’m his son.” Then he asked, “Where are you headed?”
“I wish to talk with Jennet for a wee bit. Before I leave.”
“Returning to Black Isle so soon? Jennet will be disappointed.”
“I think she’s busy with her sire. I’ve no place here.” Ethan didn’t know Kyle well enough to ask any questions, so he was honest.
“Kyler, would you go into the stables and brush our horses down? I think we’ll ready them for a ride.”
Kyler took off with a smile. “Aye, Papa.”
“Kyler loves horses. So, tell me about your feelings for Jennet. May I ask?”
Ethan respected Kyle because he’d been such a help during the curse of Black Isle. He’d brought his warriors along to fight off the Milton clan, and Ethan didn’t see any harm in telling him his thoughts. “You may, but I haven’t much to share. Not yet. ’Tis complicated.”
“I think you and Jennet would suit each other well. Was that not your intention when you came along with her on this journey?”
“Aye, but she is busy with her sire. I wanted to be sure she arrived safely. I never promised to stay.”
“Are you running away, Ethan?” Kyle asked, his voice raising concern, though not threatening.
Ethan turned away from him. That was exactly what he was doing, but how could he explain why? “I’m not sure…Jennet will be busy with her sire. She’ll need someone to be strong for her, and Donnan said…” He stopped, not wishing to continue for fear of spilling all his thoughts out like he often did with Marcas.
He lifted his gaze to Kyle and realized the man reminded him of Marcas.
“Something you can’t help her with? If you care for her, I think you could help her.”
He shook his head, then closed his eyes with resignation. This wasn’t something he could change easily about himself. It had persisted ever since.
Kyle continued. “What can’t you help her with?”
“I can’t be what she needs.”
Kyle gave him a puzzled frown and whispered, “And what will she need?”
“To be held. Donnan said so.” Ethan stared at the ground and then back to Kyle’s gaze. He searched for any judgment in his eyes, but he didn’t find it. “I know it’s odd, but because…never mind. I just have a hard time getting close with lasses until I know them well. Your pardon, but I must go speak with Jennet.” He rushed off, not wishing to continue this discussion. He’d made his mind up and was leaving as soon as he told Jennet.
Kyle called out after him, “Sometimes presence is as strong as touch, Ethan. Think on it.”
Ethan moved on, rushing through the courtyard, but he stopped abruptly when he noticed someone sitting alone in the herb garden some distance away from the activity in the bailey. He thought it was Jennet, so he headed in that direction, surprised to hear her sniffling.
“Jennet? Why do you cry?” He stopped across from her.
She swiped her tears from her cheeks and said, “’Tis naught, Ethan. I’m fine. I’m just worried about Papa. Would you like to sit next to me on the bench? I’ll keep my distance.”
“I’ll be fine, Jennet. Don’t worry about me.” He didn’t want to have to be honest with her, and he hated discussing intimacy with any lass. It was too difficult. Ethan sat down, not worried about touching her. “Is there not something you can do for him?”
“Aye, I plan to cleanse the wound, but I know he’ll get angry with me because it will hurt. He already told me I couldn’t do it, but I must.”
“Do you have someone to help you with it? Someone who can hold him down while you do what you must? I could try.” How he prayed she wouldn’t ask him to do such a thing.
“Nay, Mama will help me. And I have plenty of brothers and sisters to call on, should I need to.”
He thought of the one other thing he wished to discuss with her. “How I wish it were evening and we could take a stroll out to see the stars at night. Do you ever look at them?”
“Aye, I do love the stars. The way they glitter and light up the night. My uncle studies the stars. He calls it astrology.”
“Truly? I would be interested in discussing it with him.” Then he stopped himself. “Though I’d prefer to view them with you some night. Mayhap back on Black Isle sometime.”
Jennet gave him an odd look. “Why not here?” Her eyes narrowed and he turned away from her, not wishing to look her in the eye.
“I’m going back this eve, Jennet. ’Tis time. I cannot help you.”
Jennet paused, volumes of emotion crossing her face, but not all of them Ethan recognized. “Are you no longer interested in me?”
“Aye, please don’t misunderstand me, Jennet. But you have a clan full of brothers, sisters, cousins who can all help you. I don’t know how to help you, and I think you’ll be here for a while. Marcas needs me back at Eddirdale Castle. I hope you’ll forgive me. We can pursue a relationship some other time.”
“I understand,” she said, her voice carrying an odd catch. “Forgive me for having to spend so much time with my sire.”
He stood up and turned to face her. “You need not apologize. I have obligations and responsibilities, as you do, but I hope you’ll return to Black Isle sometime in the future.”
“Of course,” she said, standing up and folding her hands in front of her. She lifted her chin and gazed into his eyes.
Ethan was struck by the oddest feeling. A heat spread through him as he took in all that was Jennet. Her proud carriage, her intelligent eyes, her warm heart, but there was more this time.
Her hair was unplaited and the golden strands intermingled with the chestnut colors, reflecting the rays of the sun when it peeked out between the clouds. Her brown eyes were flecked with bits of gold that fascinated him, as if a daffodil had dropped its leaves behind. Her cheeks pinked the more he stared, and he was struck with something he’d never experienced before.
Jennet Ramsay was beautiful.
He’d thought lasses pretty when he was younger, before the day evil had visited him, but he’d never thought anyone beautiful.
“Ethan, I’m sure we’ll have the chance to get to know each other better someday soon. I must go back inside and find my mother. I wish you a safe trip, and please give my love to all.”
As she turned, Ethan acted on a sudden compulsion that would astound him later.
He kissed her cheek before spinning on his heel and taking his leave.