Chapter Eight

“In two days we’ve acquired a goat and a kitten. If this keeps up, there won’t be any room for people at the castle,” MacNeil groused as they rode away from the MacDuff cottage. He studied the kitten perched on Katie’s lap.

“The wee lass was crying her little heart out. How could we turn her down?” Katie snuggled the tiny ball of fur against her chest, bringing Evan’s eyes right where he didn’t want them to be: her full bosoms, nicely outlined in her worn gown, where the cursed animal snuggled. He wondered how it would feel to be snuggled up against her. He quickly turned his attention to the road, dismissing that outrageous thought.

“Who is next on our list, my laird?” Katie nodded toward the paper he held.

“I believe, since we will be working together for quite some time, that ye may address me as Evan and I address you as Katie. All of this ‘my laird’ and ‘mistress’ is becoming cumbersome.”

“Aye. ’Tis true.”

Even though using their given names wasn’t the best idea, since he didn’t want to encourage any sort of closeness between them, it would make their interactions a bit simpler. That’s the only reason.

Soon he might believe it.

“The next cottage belongs to the Widow Fiona MacDuff. She makes tartans, stockings, and tams that she sells at the marketplace. She must do a good job, because her rents are all paid up.” He made a turn to the right, and Katie followed him over a small hill to the cottage in front of them—a small, snug, well-kept house.

They approached the door, and Evan knocked. The wind whistled around them, reminding him that time was passing, and winter would be setting in soon. He must get this finished and be on his way. Katie tightened her shawl around her and shivered. After a minute or so, he knocked again. Still no answer.

“Perhaps she’s gone to visit a neighbor?” Katie looked around as if to see if the woman was on her way home.

The door slowly opened, and an older woman stood there. Her silver hair hung down around her shoulders, she was flushed, and her eyes were a dull bloodshot hue. “Are ye the new laird?” He barely heard the words that came out of her mouth, so raspy were they.

“Aye, Mrs. MacDuff, I am Laird MacNeil.”

She opened the door wider, and they were greeted by pungent smells and a chaotic mess. Bowls with dried food sat on the table; more were piled in a large bucket. A halfway full cauldron hung from the fireplace with rancid food.

Katie pushed past him. “Mrs. MacDuff, I believe ye are quite ill.”

The woman nodded and swayed on her feet.

“Evan, carry Mrs. MacDuff into the bedroom.”

He scooped the woman up into his arms; she weighed no more than a bairn. He carried her through the doorway to a small room with a cot and several hooks on the walls. The smell in that room was worse than in the outer room.

“Never mind,” Katie said. She apparently was overtaken by the smell herself. “Bring her back out to the small sofa in the front. I will examine her there.”

Within minutes Katie was ordering him about, demanding he find clean cloths and then to bring in cool water from the nearby brook. Meanwhile, the poor woman just lay there, her eyes closed, the sound of wheezing in her chest filling the room.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked as he returned with the cool water.

“I believe she suffers from an ague.” She looked at Mrs. MacDuff. “Do ye live alone?”

“Aye.” The word was a mere sigh from her mouth.

“I will make ye comfortable, and then we’re bringing ye back to the castle. I can tend to ye properly there.” She looked up at Evan. “Look for a warm blanket we can wrap her in. Ye will have to take her on yer horse. The sooner I get her in a warm room, with my medicine bag handy, the better she will feel.”

Evan felt as though he was on a horse racing toward a cliff. His orderly day, with cottages he’d planned to visit and make notes on, had resulted in the addition of one mewling kitten and one very ill woman to the household. He knew none of this was Katie’s direct fault, but it seemed chaos had reigned in his life ever since he’d almost run her over in the road on the way to the castle.

“Aye,” was all he could say as he roamed the house, looking for a blanket that didn’t smell too bad. Apparently, the woman had been sick for a while and hadn’t been able to make it to the privy.

Katie did a few things for the woman, running a cloth with cool water over her face, arms, and legs, then ordered—ordered— him to wrap Mrs. MacDuff in the somewhat clean blanket he’d found and carry her to his horse.

She followed him, grabbed the kitten by the back of her neck—the blasted thing hadn’t run off—and climbed onto her horse. With a kick of her heels, she took off back to the castle. Since Mrs. MacDuff was so light, he had no trouble mounting his horse with her in his arms. He followed Katie as she raced across the land, her auburn curls that had fallen from her topknot flying behind her, her strong thighs gripping the horse’s sides. Her legs were completely exposed since she’d pulled the back of her gown forward and tucked it into her waist to make a sort of trews.

She looked like a goddess, ready to avenge the illness that had gripped Mrs. MacDuff.

And I am in trouble.

By the time he carried the patient through the front door of the castle, Katie was already ordering other people about. Meggie scurried toward the kitchen, and Mrs. Brody hurried up the stairs in front of Katie, her chatelaine rattling as she fumbled for a key to open one of the bedchambers.

Katie looked over her shoulder at him. “Good, just carry her upstairs. Mrs. Brody said there are a few bedchambers already prepared.”

He took the stairs two at a time and entered one of the rooms right after Katie and Mrs. Brody.

“Ye can place her on the bed, there, and we will take over from here. Thank ye.” Katie pulled down the covers from the bed and immediately began to shout orders at Meggie and Mrs. Brody. Since his part in the drama had come to an end, he left the women there and returned to his horse, only to find the stable master had already taken the two horses back to the stables.

With time on his hands, since his visits to the clan members had been cut short, he wandered to the library and decided to look again at the ledgers.

That activity kept him busy for about a half hour since he’d already gone through the books thoroughly before his planned visits. Something caught his eye, and he frowned as the wee kitten darted across the room to land on his lap.

He had never been a cat fan. In fact, as a child he’d always seemed to sneeze when they were around him. Perhaps he had outgrown it, because he wasn’t sneezing now, and he was annoyed to find himself petting the thing, who in turn was purring like a woman in the throes of passion.

Katie.

What would she be like while being pleasured? Would her blue eyes deepen to almost black? Would the tip of her pink tongue lick her plush lips, teasing him to place his mouth there and sip from her nectar? Would she toss her head about and call his name?

God’s toes! What the blasted hell was he doing? Katie was his employee. Nothing more. He jumped from his chair behind the desk, then sat down abruptly when the figment of his imagination entered the room in a flurry. He was certainly not in a position to stand in front of her after his lurid thoughts.

“What?” He sounded like a gruff old man. He didn’t mean to speak quite so forcefully, but she’d caught him unaware—like a green youth ogling the dairy maid. He hated how he behaved when he was around her.

Her eyes grew wide at his abruptness as she settled in the chair in front of the desk. “I merely wanted to tell you Mrs. MacDuff is resting comfortably. She will need continuous care for a few weeks, though. Her age makes these illnesses dangerous.”

Evan ran his fingers through his hair. “Aye. I didn’t mean to shout at ye, lass, and I agree that Mrs. MacDuff did need ye to help her. Ye do seem to be a good healer, and that’s good, since I dinnae know who the local healer is.”

“Hopefully, whoever it is won’t feel as though I am trying to take their place.” She scooped up the kitten that had been flung to the floor when he’d jumped up before. “I think I shall name her Midnight.”

“Verra imaginative.” He snorted. “If all is well for now with yer patient, I would like to continue with our visits.”

“Aye.” Katie stood, her long, delicate fingers working the fur on the kitten, bringing his thoughts back to where he didn’t want them to be. He continued to stare at her hands, imagining them running over his naked skin, until her words broke into his wandering. “I will bring Midnight to Cook and see if she can fix up a blanket or basket for the kitten to sleep in. I will also see if she can find a few girls from the village to clean Mrs. MacDuff’s house. ’Twould be a pity to send her back there newly recovered from an illness.”

His attention returned to her face, and he realized that once again he was in an awkward position with her, so he gave her a curt nod and remained in his seat. Blasted hell! This could not continue. He must get everything here in order and then leave for Argyll, where sanity would prevail.

He had gained control of himself by the time she returned. He stood and they headed toward the door. She turned to say something to him when the front door burst open, and she stepped back, crashing into his chest. Two men stood there, breathing heavily. The likeness in their features and difference in their ages marked them as da and son.

“Aye, great to see ye, Mistress Stirling. We finally made it, but I’m afraid Archie’s wagon broke down a few miles back, and he needs help in getting his family here.”

“Oh, goodness. Yes, we must help him.” She turned to Evan. “I cannot leave them on the road, Evan. We must help them. Archie and his wife, Glenda, have several children, and the wee ones will be needing a warm place since ’tis quite cold today.”

Evan ground his teeth. Another delay. “I thought ye said ye told yer people to wait a sennight before starting out.”

“I did. But it looks like they didn’t listen.” Her back stiffened and she glared at him.

He sighed. “Perhaps we can find Alasdair. I dinnae ken what the mon is doing that he’s never around, but if he can help yer people, we can continue with our tenant visits.”

“Oh, nay.” She shook her head furiously as she wrapped her shawl around her body and followed the two men down the pathway, with Evan trailing behind her again, like a besotted puppy. “That wouldn’t work. The little ones will be scared unless I arrive to help them. There are so many of them, ’twould probably be better to ease their wee minds. ’Tis a strange place for them, remember.”

So many of them? That had him breaking into a sweat. “Exactly how many bairns do Archie and his wife have?”

“Eleven.”