Page 45 of Hold Fast

“Well!” Fenella exclaimed happily, “if it isnae my little bird! Hello, Fifi! We were just speaking of you.”

Fiona approached the table and stood next to Fenella. Very close to Fenella, in fact, who smiled warmly up at her.

“That cannae be good,” Fiona grumbled with a smile and roll of her eyes.

“Psh,” Fenella said. “As if we could say a bad thing about you. You’re an angel. Nay, I was just telling Una a wee story to pass the time.”

“I’ve heard yer stories,” Fiona said. “All of them. And if you have been telling her a story, I’m surprised she hasnae turned inside out from embarrassment.”

Fenella barked a laugh, her eyes crinkling with mirth.

“I was about to ask her a question, actually. Perhaps you’d be interested in her answer as well? I was about to ask how a certain bonny healer might react if the laird set his cap at her.”

Una’s eyes went wide and she looked around the kitchen. It was remarkably empty for the afternoon, with only a cluster of maids scouring pots in the corner.Thank God, Una thought.

Fiona nudged Fenella hard with her shoulder. “Fen,” she said, her voice full of warning.

“You ken you want the answer as much as I do, mo cridhe.”

Una’s heart was pounding now. “I— I— I—”

She felt sick. She felt nervous. She felt… something that almost resembled excitement?

Fiona and Fenella looked at her expectantly, and she opened and closed her mouth over and over, feeling like a fish on the shore. She was saved from having to answer as a voice echoed from the hall and a gangly, red-headed boy flew into the kitchen, red-faced and out of breath.

“Fenella!” he shouted. “Have you seen the healer?”

Fenella stood and wiped her hands on a cloth. “What is the matter, Rory?”

“The laird is injured!”

“Saints’ bones, cannae these MacDonald men give us a day of peace?” Fenella muttered at the exact moment Fiona screeched, “What’s happened to him?”

Rory gasped for air, clutching his side against a stitch. Una’s blood ran icy cold. Through his heaving breaths, the boy said, “He was helping with the roof thatching on the widow Bertie’s house. The roof gave way and he fell.”

“Jesu,” Fenella said. “Surely he cannae be badly injured from a fall. He’s a big, braw man, our laird.”

“Aye,” Rory said, “But he landed on a sickle! Bleedin’ like a stuck pig, Fenella! There was blood everywhere! I havenae ever seen so much blood! Da told me to run for the healer. Said she lived up at the keep.”

Worry clawed higher, every one of Rory’s sentences acting like a new ladder rung for the tightness in her chest to climb, until she could hardly swallow. Where had he been stabbed? How much blood had he really lost? She shook herself out of her daze.

“I am the healer,” she said, dropping the pestle and rushing around the table.

Rory’s eyes went wide as platters. “You’re even prettier than Douglas said,” he whispered in a reverent voice.

“Where is the laird?” Una asked impatiently.

“They’ve put him on a cart and are a’comin’ this way now. He wanted to ride that big gray beast of his. You ken the one who willnae let anyone else touch him but the laird? But David wouldnae let him. Told him he was aff his heid, and the laird didnae cuff him or anything. Can you imagine? He’s cussin’ like the devil, though. I learned a new word, Fenella,” he said, his excitement temporarily overriding his concern. “Do you ken what a swi—”

“That’s more than enough of that,” Fiona interrupted, glaring at Fenella who was suddenly very interested in something on the ceiling. “Rory, I want you to meet them in the bailey and tell them to bring the laird to Connor’s chamber. That’s where he’s staying.”

“I will!” Rory said importantly, dashing quickly away.

“Aye, and when ye’re done, come back here and I’ll have a pie for you,” Fenella shouted after him.

Fiona sighed heavily, and Fenella draped a strong arm around her shoulders, squeezing her tightly to her side.

“Dinnae fash yerself, mo cridhe,” she said affectionately as Fiona rested her head on Fenella’s shoulder. “Have we ever gone a week in this keep without one of them getting stitched? Besides, if he can curse creatively enough to teachRorya new word, he cannae be so beyond repair.”