No matter how much his eagle craved the touch of this woman. She was a patient and she could never be anything else.
Nevertheless, Lais would do his best to protect her from this point forward. Understanding how she came to be here was a necessary step toward doing that.
“I ran away the night before I was supposed to wed Ualraig.” Mairi’s eyes pleaded for understanding. “I could not bear the thought of marriage to a man so like my father. Ualraig was only willing to take me as his wife because he was sure I was not his true mate and he could still share his seed with a femwolf, given the opportunity.”
“How do you know this?”
“He told me.”
Lais cursed. No wonder she avoided conversing with the bastard. “They found you.”
“They are Chrechte. Of course they did, but I’d gotten almost to the northern border of our land.” She sounded proud of that fact and she should.
To have eluded her Chrechte hunters that long was indeed an accomplishment.
“How did you get away the second time?” And manage to make it all the way to Sinclair land on this occasion as well.
“They left me for dead.” She took a deep breath and let it out, her distress still all too apparent to his senses. “I woke to so much pain and realized if I did not go, I would die exactly as they intended. I knew of an old warrior who lived on the border of our land, ostensibly to protect it, but really my father did not like him.”
“He helped you?”
“After a fashion. I stole his horse.”
“You did not have a horse when Ciara found you.”
“No. I sent him back the way we came. He was a smart horse, he’s no doubt home by now.”
That explained her ability to make it so far, but not how she had done so undetected.
“So, your father believes you are dead?”
“I do not think so, not by now.”
“What do you mean?”
“They would have gone back for my body, after the wild animals got to it.”
The MacLeod laird’s evil was even worse than Lais had first thought. Even a laird could not admit to killing his own daughter. So, he had taken measures to make sure he was not accused of doing so.
“They meant to make it look like wild animals had gotten you when you ran away,” Lais said with disgust, his stomach rolling at the thought. “You were still alive when they left you. A Chrechte would have known.”
“Yes.”
And still the two vicious bastards had left her so hurt she would not have been able to protect herself from a piglet, much less a wild boar. “Evil.”
“Yes.”
“But you were not so fragile as they thought and you were clever enough to make your way here.” He let the admiration he felt sound in his voice.
She deserved it.
“I was already very close. I think my father hoped to blame my death on another clan, so he left me where he and his soldier found me near the border of MacLeod land.”
“You outwitted him.”
“I did, but if Ciara had not found me last night, I do not think I would have survived to the morning.”
Lais knew she wouldn’t have. “But you did.”
“Yes and in the end, that is all that matters.”
No, her father’s perfidy and cruelty had to be addressed, but not now and not by her.
He began to remove Mairi’s plaid.
She grabbed at the fabric, tugging it close to her. “What are you doing?”
“I need to see what I can of your injuries.”
He had no choice but to use his inner sight for her internal injuries and bones. Though it used much more of his power and exhausted him in the process. He could not waste his energy trying to see through her plaid for her modesty’s sake.
“But I can’t be unclothed in your presence.” She swallowed, looking and smelling very nervous all of a sudden. “It would not be right.”
“I am a healer,” he said with exasperation.
“Are you saying you’ve seen scores of women without their clothing so you could heal them?” she demanded, sounding riled at the thought.
He did not bother to dignify that ridiculousness with an answer. He simply tugged at the plaid she grasped so tightly.
Refusing to let go, she shook her head.
“Our Chrechte gifts do not come without cost,” he told her.
“What does that have to do with you undressing me?”
“You could undress yourself, but your ribs are still too tender