“It is nothing. Never mind it,” Kinnell insisted as the healer stepped right up to him, and he stepped back, which made her keep after him until he finally surrendered and stayed put so she could plant herself close to his face to examine his wounds.
Torin watched, always enjoying the push and pull exchange between the two. Iona intimidated with her abrupt nature and her wild appearance. She stood a good head over most men, though stood face to face with Kinnell, not so Torin. He had height over her and over most others. She was slender but muscular and had sharp features that either captured the eye or forced one to look away. Her flaming red hair refused to stay contained no matter what she did to it, so she kept it chopped at her shoulders and gave the curls their freedom. She was young for a healer being only a few years older than Kinnell’s two and twenty years. Though young, she was an exceptional healer.
“I’ve seen worse,” Iona said, stepping away from Kinnell to his relief. “And it is far from your arse.”
Kinnell looked to Torin, a grin on his face silently letting him know he had been right about what the healer would say to him.
“Grin like that and you will split your lip again, you fool,” Iona admonished, her bold green eyes narrowing as they focused on Kinnell.
Torin’s smile grew while Kinnell’s grin faded.
Iona turned her attention to Torin and Kinnell almost sighed with relief.
“So, this wife of yours, is she a strong one or the pampered type?” Iona asked, folding her arms across her ample chest.
“From what I have seen so far, she has strength to her, though the Highlands are foreign to her. Her father was a scholar, having studied and taught at a budding university in England and she also lived in Edinburgh for a while.” At least that was what he had learned while at Clan Strathearn. He had yet to discuss Flora’s past with her and that might have been a mistake on his part, not learning enough about her.
“Lowlanders, they have no strength to them,” Iona said, scrunching her face with disgust. “The wild Highlands will not only be foreign to her but frightening as well. It will take her time to adapt. You will need much patience with her as will the clan. I will introduce myself and help her in any way I can.”
“I appreciate that, Iona,” Torin said.
“What has she to say about the ghost?” Iona asked.
“That is none of your concern,” Kinnell said.
“It is if I am to help her,” Iona argued.
Torin put a quick stop to their bickering by answering her question. “She does not know yet.”
Iona shook her head. “Do not wait long to tell her or she will hear it from others first and that is not something you want to have happen. She should learn it from her husband, not a stranger.”
She walked away and Kinnell shook his head at her retreating back. “That woman can be exasperating.”
“Maybe you should wed her and teach her to submit,” Torin suggested teasingly.
Kinnell turned a stricken glare on Torin. “Do not even joke like that. Never would I wed such an impossibly irritating woman.” He shuddered at the thought. “But she is right about telling your wife before she hears about the ghost from someone else.”
“That she is,” Torin said. “Walk with me back to the cottage. The message that returned us home was clear that there were many things that need attention here.”
* * *
Flora neededa distraction from what awaited her tonight in bed with her husband and what better distraction than the ghost. She waited a bit after her husband left, then went to the door and peeked out. When she was sure her husband was nowhere in sight, she slipped out and keeping watch that no one looked her way headed for the keep.
“You should not go there, my lady.”
Flora stopped and turned to see a short, plump woman standing near the back corner of the keep, a covered basket over her arm.
The woman approached slowly and raised the basket. “I have brought food and drink for you. Let me serve you in the cottage where you will be safe and warm and can rest after your long journey.”
Flora remained as she was, not moving either way. “And you are?”
“Verena, my lady,” the woman said with a bob of her head.
Flora smiled. “Derived from the Latin for vera meaning truth, a lovely name that I am sure suits you well.”
Verena appeared perplexed. “Thank you, my lady.”
“Please leave the food in the cottage, Verena, I will eat it at my leisure,” Flora said and turned to continue to the keep.