Page 33 of Highlander’s Claim

Jenny faltered, opening and closing her mouth. Leitis’s dress was clearly not made for her figure, but the color was beautiful against her hair. Seeing her in his wife’s dress was even more difficult than having to give the clothes to her, but it was all worth it since the antagonism of the people had dissolved—well, most of them. Many of them didn’t pay attention to her or didn’t recognize her. He was glad that peace had returned to Dunyvaig. If only his niece would go on her way.

“I gave it to her,” he said loudly as he made his way towards Jenny and Laoghaire. “The lady didn’t have anything to wear. We all should have more compassion for her instead of judging her.”

“Why are ye protecting this woman, laird?” asked Bhatair, who walked from his little surgery briskly towards them, his medicinal basket in his hands. “She speaks nonsense and must have bewitched ye because ye would have never believed a charlatan. Ye ken they can bring death.”

Bhatair stared at Aulay, his eyes bulging. The word “charlatan” hung between them, heavy and dark. They both shared the guilt of Leitis’s death.

Only, there was a difference between that charlatan and Jenny. “There’s no proof she’s a charlatan,” Aulay said in a low voice. “MacDonald is a strong clan, and a strong clan has a big heart and doesna need to treat every newcomer with hostility.”

“Laird, she clearly impaired yer judgment—”

“Did ye see the orphans today?” Aulay asked. “I saw Artur and his yellow crusts got better after Jenny’s treatment. The sores on the other children’s faces and hands diminished. She made the miasma leave the orphanage.”

Jenny slowly rose from the ground. Her face lit up as he said that, and something in his chest ached. He liked the brightness in her eyes, the confidence in her straight back.

Bhatair glared at her. “The children have a yellow crust disease. ’Tis nae dangerous.”

Jenny crossed her arms over her chest. “True. But it doesn’t mean children should suffer if there’s help available.”

Ailis looked up at Aulay with a glimmer of hope. “Artur got bett”—cough—“er?”

“Aye. Give Jenny the benefit of the doubt, people.”

To his disappointment, no one agreed or nodded, but at least there were no loud protests thrown around. He wasn’t sure why he was defending her so fiercely. She had told him the most outrageous story about time travel two days ago, but yesterday, after her salve worked and her simple logic about cleaning made the children feel better, he’d wondered for a moment if she was telling the truth. After all, she’d also told him two different stories of why she was going to Ireland. Was it pilgrimage or was it to see her family? Were either of those true or anything else she’d said? And why would she come up with an unbelievable tale about time travel?

But then he dismissed his doubt again. He had decided to trust her. She was a healer, as he had witnessed himself when she’d treated the orphans.

Jenny took a step closer to him. “Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice gentle and pleasant. Then she walked away. He liked not arguing with her, and her appreciation felt like a precious gift.

She went to a large cauldron that steamed over the fire and stirred it with a long stick. There were rags and cloth lying in a basket on the ground. Aulay watched Bhatair follow her.

“What are ye doing, woman?” he demanded.

“I’m cleaning miasma from linen cloths,” she said calmly and without looking at Bhatair. “To bandage wounds and such.”

Bhatair was a highly respected member of the clan, and his words carried a lot of weight, but he could be arrogant and rash. Aulay watched them, wanting to see if Jenny would follow his advice and know her place as a woman and as an outsider.

Bhatair scoffed. “This wouldna stop the miasma.”

“It would, actually,” she said softly. “Boiling water kills it. It’s good for your surgical instruments, too.”

“My surgical instruments do nae have miasma on them!” cried Bhatair in outrage.

Alarmed by Bhatair’s yelling, people stopped and looked at them. Aulay needed to intervene. He strode towards them. “Bhatair—” he said.

But Bhatair kept going, “I’d never agree to give anything medical into yer hands. I didn’t learn in the most advanced medical school in the world for nothing. I am a highly qualified physician, and I would never believe a strange woman saying such outrageous things!”

His voice got louder and louder. Jenny’s face got paler and paler, but she kept her mouth shut and listened to him with a straight back.

“Bhatair—” Aulay said.

“I will prove to everyone ye’re wrong and ye’re a liar. Because ye are hiding something!” With that, Bhatair finally took his leave, his long tunic flapping violently around his legs as he marched towards Ailis.

He met Jenny’s eyes. She said nothing, only scoffed. Then she returned to her task of stirring the cloth in the cauldron. The fire was seething in her eyes, he could see it. He wished he hadn’t told her to keep her mouth shut; he wished she was in a position to defend herself against Bhatair. But it wouldn’t do her any good since more people would be on Bhatair’s side.

“Do ye have children?” he asked. “Ye seem to have a good way with them. Ye ken the diseases…”

“No,” she said. “Not right now, anyway… I want them, though. More than anything. At least one.”