saddlebag on the bedside table. Conran had intended to make another tonic for the man. One he’d made several times under Rory’s instruction. His brother said it was to build a patient’s blood and help them sleep, both of which could only aid in Maclean’s healing, he assured himself. It wasn’t that he’d planned to have the man sleep the afternoon away so that he’d be free to seduce his daughter. Truly. However, when Conran got to the table and picked up the saddlebag, it was empty.
“What the hell,” he muttered, opening the bag and peering into its yawning depths.
“Oh, aye, I forgot to tell ye,” Fearghas said behind him. “Tildy sent maids up to change me bed linens while ye were breaking yer fast this morn, and one o’ them knocked yer bag over. Yer weeds all got mixed together and in the rushes, so she swept them up and put them in the fire so the dogs would no’ eat anything that might make them sick.”
“What dogs?” Conran asked with surprise. He hadn’t seen one since arriving.
“My dogs,” the Maclean said as if that should be obvious.
“I’ve seen no dogs since I got here,” Conran explained his ignorance.
“They’ve been kept out in the bailey since I fell ill. But they usually sleep in here.” Frowning slightly, he added, “They’re probably following Evina around while I’m unavailable. Well, when she does no’ come up here,” he added.
Conran nodded and set the empty bag on the table, then began to rub the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as he pondered what to do about having lost all of Rory’s weeds. Obviously, he needed to replace them, and quickly. The Maclean was on the mend and would survive without them, but Rory would need them. His brother was probably fretting up a storm over his disappearing without delivering them to Buchanan as he promised he would. That would have been the first telltale sign that all was not well and he had not left willingly.
“No’ to worry though,” the Maclean said now. “I’ve arranged to fix the problem.”
Conran let his hand drop from his face and turned in question to the man. “How?”
Fearghas opened his mouth, and then paused and smiled as a tap sounded at the door. “I’ll wager there’s the answer now.”
Curious, Conran turned toward the door as it opened, his eyebrows rising when Evina entered with a tray in hand and Gavin on her heels.
“Thank ye,” Evina murmured to Gavin as he opened the door and held it for her. She took several steps into the room and then slowed when she noted that Conran was still with her father. Usually he was out and below at table by now, leaving the way clear for her to take her noon meal with her father. It was what he’d done the last four days since their encounter in this room. She’d just assumed he’d continue the practice, and when she’d noticed he wasn’t at table yet as she’d carried the tray across the great hall, she had assumed he was simply in the garderobe or something. She’d been wrong.
Raising her chin, Evina continued forward and forced a smile to her lips. Keeping her tone light, she said, “They’re serving the noon repast below, so I brought up lunch for Father.” Focusing her gaze on her father only, she added, “We can eat together while Lord Buchanan goes below to take a break and enjoy his meal. As usual.”
Evina winced as the last words slipped out. Even to her they sounded a bit snippy, almost accusatory, as if she were commenting on the fact that he was still there and she didn’t like it.
“That’s sweet, me dear, but there’s going to be a change in routine today,” Laird Maclean announced, sounding suspiciously cheerful, she thought, and wished she could see his expression. That was the one thing most annoying about his constantly lying on his stomach to avoid pressure on his bottom. She could never see his expressions when they talked, and they’d talked a lot the last few days. Mostly about the Buchanan. Her father was constantly asking her questions about the man, or telling her things about him. She had begun to suspect the man was up to something. She still did.
“What change in routine are we having?” Evina asked warily, stopping next to the bed with the tray.
“Our healer needs more weeds,” her father announced. “Ye need to show him where to get