ye, and they said they did.”
What the devil? Tavish didn’t work with anyone, especially when it came to assisting Jacobites. Could it have been men he’d helped in the past who wanted to return the favor? That didn’t make sense. His blood went cold—they’d mentioned Neil. They were after Lann Dhearg. They had to be.
Before he could ask, Carrie returned. She shooed Tavish aside as she put the items she’d gathered on the table beside the bed. “Fetch me the washbasin, Mr. MacLean.” She tore strips of cloth and set them on the table as Tavish brought the pottery and put it down next to her implements. There was a bottle and a jar, salve, perhaps.
Tavish handed her the cloth he’d used to dab at Kerr’s head. “Here.”
She didn’t spare a look for Tavish as she took the cloth and set to work cleaning Kerr’s face to the best of her ability. The patient grimaced and moaned, but she worked quickly and efficiently.
“You might consider a new occupation as a healer,” Tavish noted.
Carrie snorted. “As if my father would permit that.” She poured the liquid from the bottle onto a clean cloth, and the scent of witch hazel rose in the air. She applied the medicine to Dougal’s cuts. “Better now?” she asked.
“Yes, thank you.” Kerr opened one eye—the other was beginning to swell shut—and looked up at Tavish. “They want the sword. I heard them talking about it after they thought I was unconscious. They think Neil can lead them to it.”
Dammit. Tavish ran his hand over the side of his neck.
Carrie had picked up the jar of salve and then immediately dropped it. Muttering a curse, she picked it up and removed the lid, setting it on the table.
“How many men?” Tavish asked.
“Three came into the cottage. But there were more outside.”
“Can you tell me exactly what they said about the sword?”
“Ow!” Kerr yelped and Carrie apologized.
Tavish noted her hands were shaking. He recalled what Elspeth had told him. It seemed Carrie knew something. “Carrie, are you all right?” he asked gently.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, indicating she was perhaps not. “I’m not the one who was thrashed.”
He looked back to Kerr. “Have you any idea where the men might have gone?”
“Good question,” Carrie said. “I hope they don’t come here.”
That drew Tavish’s entire attention. “Carrie, is there something you know about these men?” Tavish had a fair idea who they were and would be shocked if she knew them.
She stood, brushing her hands on her apron and glaring at Tavish. “Why would I ken these men? I just don’t want them showing up here. It’s bad for business!”
“Carrie, do you happen to know where Neil Kerr is hiding?”
Her bright green eyes widened, and she darted a look at Dougal, who rose up on his elbow, then promptly fell back on the bed with a groan.
“Ye can trust Mr. MacLean,” Dougal said between sucking in breaths and squeezing his one good eye shut.
Carrie bit her lip as she surveyed Tavish, her expression heavy with doubt.
“You can trust me.” Tavish gave her an encouraging nod. “I am trying to find Neil so that I may keep him safe from the English soldiers.”
A bit of her skepticism seemed to fade, but they were interrupted by the arrival of her father. Balthazar stood in the doorway, his hands on his hips. “There ye are, daughter! I need ye in the common room!” His gaze fell on her bed. “What the bloody hell happened to him?”
Tavish opened his mouth to answer, but Balthazar waved his hand. “Later. We’ve got customers who want ale. Get yerself going, Carrie!” he bellowed before turning and striding away toward the common room.
“I’ll check on ye later!” Carrie hurried from the room without so much as a glance toward Tavish.
Tavish frowned in deep disappointment. He was sure Carrie knew more than she was saying. After dinner, he would find out what.
Approaching the bed, Tavish realized Kerr had fallen asleep, his even breathing matching the rise and fall of his chest. Tavish muttered a frustrated curse, then departed. On his way to the common room, he ran into Elspeth.
She’d changed for dinner and wore a fetching gown of cream silk with an embroidered stomacher. He momentarily forgot everything but her loveliness.
“You look beautiful,” he breathed.
She blushed as she skimmed her palms over the skirt of her gown. “Thank you. It’s my finest dress. I wore it to a dinner with my cousins and their neighbors in Inverness.” She shook