Highland Escape - Cathy MacRae Page 0,36

be cultivated and where others might be obtained. I want to know if she will be threatened by another encroaching on her position.”

After showing her his intended training spot, Duncan guided her toward the village to Fiona’s home. The stone wall of the one-room croft rose even with Anna’s head, the thatched roof supported by several logs protruding past the walls all around. Mud filled the gaps between the stones, making the small dwelling snug against the cold winter winds. An older woman appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a well-used apron. Duncan greeted her and made the introductions.

“’Tis good to meet ye, Lady Anna.” The pear-shaped woman wore a tunic dress of dark green wool. Her hair, a generous mixture of gray and black, was braided and pulled back into a severe knot. “I have seen yer work. The laird bade me look after the men who were injured recapturin’ our Nessa. Ye have a fine touch. The stitches were verra clean, and nae wounds took to festerin’. ’Tis a tribute to yer skills.”

Duncan was amused to see Anna’s cheeks stain red. Was it the cold, or was she so unused to compliments?

She asked, “You do not mind that I treated the people of your clan?”

The older woman snorted. “Mind? I am the clan midwife. The only reason I treat the sick and injured at all is because ’tis none else. I will gladly hand over the chore if ye are of a mind to take it.”

Ushering them into the cottage, Fiona showed Anna the simple remedies she prepared, the herbs she gathered and where to find them. When Anna asked about other plants, Fiona often didn’t know. She did know clan Graham had access to herbs she did not, and suggested they attend market there. She generously offered Anna any supplies or assistance needed. Anna did the same.

“Where will ye be workin’, milady?”

Duncan caught Anna’s questioning glance.

“Out of the keep for now,” Duncan replied. “We shall see what the laird says, but I feel certain she can use one of the storage rooms off the great hall until they are needed for harvest.”

Bidding Fiona good day, Anna and Duncan continued on their route, stopping by the cooper. They obtained an ash billet, which they lashed to her horse. She stubbornly insisted on paying from her purse with the few coins she possessed. Riding on, they stopped by the weaver’s shop. Duncan inquired about commissioning woolens. They would measure Anna and start as soon as he supplied the wool.

They mounted again and started back toward the keep.

With mild trepidation, Anna invited conversation. “Your horse is quite beautiful. What is his name?”

“His name is Lasair. A gift from the Stewart laird, my grandda, when I became a knight. He has been a faithful companion.”

“His name fits. His coat is almost red as a flame.” And almost as impressive as his master. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she glanced away and resisted allowing the thought further freedom. She eyed Duncan surreptitiously, unable to keep from admiring the way he moved in unison with his mount.

While brushing their horses at the stables, she remembered the question haunting her for some time now. “Duncan, why Nessa? Why did the MacNairns take her, the laird’s daughter?”

He gazed at her a moment before answering. “’Tis a long story. Do ye wish to hear the whole?”

Continuing to brush Orion, she nodded.

“There have always been hard feelings between our clans, going back generations, though I dinnae know why. Typically, ’tis naught more than simple raids of a few cattle or sheep. Same was true between the MacNairn and the Stewart clan. For many years both our clan and the MacNairns wanted an alliance with the Stewarts to form a buffer. The Stewarts wished to remain neutral and not choose sides. This way they benefit from trade with both.”

Anna snorted. She’d seen this sort of maneuvering between English lords in the past.

“When the MacGregor laird, my grandda, died unexpectedly, Kenneth, my da, became laird in his place, nae more than a score and two summers in age. Shortly after, a MacNairn raid on Stewart land went awry. The men had been in their cups, and a lad was brutally killed. The lad was the Stewart laird’s nephew and godson. Da took advantage of the situation and negotiated with the Stewart for my mother’s hand, forming a strong alliance between our clans.

“Since then, the MacNairn laird has sought vengeance upon us. We think he stole Nessa

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