Leaning forward, Balfour laid his hairy forearms on the table and looked deep at him. “What happened Leith? How come all of a sudden?”
Not wanting to dig up his worries, Leith asked, “Dinnae ye want to see Dugald first?”
“Me scrawny brother can wait,” Balfour huffed, “Tell me what happened.”
Regrettably, Leith told him the sad tale starting six months ago and how his father’s slow slope into madness began. “Now he just has two emotions, suspicious and enraged. He swings from one to the other like the swaying of a branch. Robasdan has pledged to help but mind-healers are so few and far between.”
“That’s hard to stomach, Balloch,” Balfour grimaced. “Are ye sure that’s all there is to it?”
Cocking his head to the side, Leith asked, “What more can there be to it?”
Wide, fur-clad shoulders shrugged, “He’s nae drinking good ale?”
The attempt at humor fell flat, and Leith felt even worse for it. He massaged his burning eyes. “I ken what yer trying to do, McColloch, but is nae working. It’d take a miracle for me to find anything well in this situation, but I can assure ye, his food is all right.”
“I dinnae ken what to tell ye,” Balfour sighed. “All I can offer ye is me help if ye need it.” he then squinted. “When was the last time ye had a woman?”
His mind ran back to Mary and the tender hope for him to take care of her resting in her eyes. “Nae recently, McColloch but before ye get on yer salvation horse, I dinnae need one now.”
“Ye sure?”
“Very,” Leith replied, “and again, I can see ye planning to send me some buxom lass with pretty eyes to warm me bed, but nay.”
“Which is it? Are ye resisting ‘cause ye dinnae want one or ye already have one?” Balfour taunted only to have Leith stare at him dryly.
Grunting under his breath, Balfour huffed out, “What I can do is to go and dig into me granny’s books and if I find any of what she wrote down about healing the mind, send ye some healing herbs from the mountains and instructions on how to use them.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Leith replied in relief for more help. “Now…let’s see if we can get ye that ale? By the barrelful, eh?”
“Nothing else will do,” Balfour grinned.
15
“Here,” Fiona’s hateful snarl had Mary inching away. The woman’s face was tight with dislike as she dumped a tray of goblets into her tub. “Wash these.”
Thunder made the stone walls in the kitchen vibrate and in the distance white, jagged lightning streaked across the sky. After nearly seven hours of non-stop rain, there appeared to be no end of the downpour in sight. Getting off her stool, Mary dourly looked out the window to the clouded, misty mountains from her place in the corner of the kitchen.
Like the grey skies, her mood had dipped. It was another three-day stretch between Leith’s last visit to her and she truly began to wonder what was going on between them. She had opened up her soul to him and he had seemed very receptive to her words, but now with no sight or word from him, she was beginning to wonder if he had taken her words to heart.
Another thing that bothered her, and though she knew it should not, she began to wonder about the true relationship between Leith and Rinalda. Their connection did not feel like one that should rest between a laird’s son and a servant. She did not dare ask either though as Rinalda thought she was mute, and it felt disgraceful to ask Leith.
“Mary?”
Her head darted away from the window to the woman, Nella who was the head woman in the kitchen. She sighed yes.
“Lady Lenichton wants to speak with ye,” Nella said. “She wants to see ye in her day room. Upstairs, third door to the left.”
Instantly, she began to get nervous but nodded obediently. “Good, go now, she’s waiting on ye.”
Quitting the room, Mary took the stairs and the corridor above to the third door on the left. She paused to knock.
“Come in, Mary,” a quiet voice called. “I’m expecting ye.”
Her cold fingers trembled nervously and she pushed the door in and went to stand in front of the Laird’s wife. The woman was truly a tiny little thing that a stiff breeze would most likely topple. Mary saw thin, spidery fingers knit and unknit themselves and the dark gown she had on made her sallow complexion just that much sicklier. Her head was covered with a dark veil and the only rich color the woman had were her bright blue eyes.
Curtsying, Mary stood with her stomach twisting in knots. What did this woman want from her?
“Sit, dear, please,” the old woman said. “Do an old woman a favor and sit with me.”
Completely anxious, Mary did what she was asked to and to her surprise, the lady reached out and took her hands. “Listen to me, dear child, I dinnae ken if Leith has told ye much of anything but me husband is ill. Very ill.”
She did her best to look shocked and her forced expression seemed to find acceptance with the woman, “I’ve loved Aaron all me life from when I was a lass as young as ye. I still love him to me heart, but there are days when seeing him pains me so dearly. I am the one who cooks for him, Mary as I cannot turn away from all me wifey duties to him. Ye look like such a gentle, loving and caring woman. What I do ask that, when I am not able, will ye take his food to him for me?”
All the anxiety whooshed from her in a moment. The lady looked mired in pain and even as if she was fighting back tears. What was the harm in doing such a simple request? She nodded.
Light sprung to the woman’s eyes and her thin lips were wide in a
