Diane Gaston – The Lord’s Highland Temptation (страница 8)

‘Mrs MacNeal, our patient is hungry. What might I bring him?’

Mrs MacNeal’s wrinkles creased into a sympathetic look. ‘Oh, the poor lad. I take it he is feeling better?’ Cook had kept her supplied with broth and tea for him the last three days.

‘He is much better,’ she replied. ‘His fever has broken.’

Cook winced as she tottered over to a shelf where the servants’ dishes were stacked. The poor woman’s arthritis must be paining her. She ought to be given a nice pension and a little cottage on the estate, not running the kitchen with only one kitchen maid to help.

‘Let me help you,’ Mairi said, hurrying to her side.

‘Thank you, Miss Mairi.’ The old woman pointed to a high shelf. ‘One of those bowls and a plate will do. The soup is ready. I’m keeping it warm for dinner. And there is fresh bread.’

‘I’ll cut some bread,’ Davina offered. She skipped over to the bread box and took out a loaf.

‘He’ll want some ale, I expect,’ Niven added. ‘Shall I get him some?’

Mairi nodded.

‘I’ll slice some cheese for him, as well,’ Davina said. She carried some cheese to the worktable.

Cook, Davina and Niven arranged a very generous tray for the Englishman.

‘Now tell us about him,’ Davina demanded. ‘Who is he? What did the doctor say?’

Of course they would be curious about the man she’d rescued.

Mairi replied, ‘His name is John Lucas.’

‘But what is his regiment?’ Niven asked. ‘I thought he was a soldier.’

‘I did not ask him about being a soldier. He has only this morning been out of danger.’ Mairi glanced from Niven to Davina. ‘Mr Grassie believes he is much improved, but he must rest. And he still may be contagious, so you must stay away from his room.’

‘I do not mind helping,’ Davina said.

Mairi frowned. ‘Better it be Niven. It would not be proper for you to be in his room.’

Davina’s chin lifted. ‘Then it is not proper for you either, Mairi. But you were in his room day and night, were you not?’

Mairi could see that Cook listened to their every word. ‘Only because he had the fever and we had to limit how many were exposed to it. In any event, now that the fever is gone, it should be Niven who attends him.’

‘But I won’t be here!’ Niven protested. ‘Not tomorrow. I am off to Crawfurd’s tomorrow.’

William Crawfurd was Niven’s childhood friend, about to embark on a Grand Tour abroad—something out of the question for Niven since both his tutor and Davina’s governess had left for positions that would actually pay them.

‘Well, attend him today.’ Mairi would worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.

She followed Niven down the hallway, knocked on the butler’s door and opened it, stepping inside long enough to see Mr Lucas rise.

‘Miss Wallace.’ He nodded.

Again she felt that pull towards him.

She stepped aside so Niven could enter. ‘My brother. Niven.’

The Englishman’s eyes left hers only briefly to acknowledge Niven.

‘He brought you food,’ she said unnecessarily.

Before the man could say another word, she left the room.

* * *

The youth carrying the food tray grinned at Lucas. ‘You’ll have to forgive Mairi. She has a bee in her bonnet about something, I’ll give you that.’

‘I understand she tended to me these last three days,’ Lucas responded. ‘She must be quite fatigued.’

‘Well, I helped some,’ the boy said. He lifted the tray slightly. ‘I’ve brought you some food. Shall I set the tray on the table or would you like to eat on the bed?’

‘The table.’ After the doctor had left, Lucas had forced himself not to crawl back under the bedcovers, but he’d not progressed beyond sitting on the bed’s edge.

He rose, holding on to the bedpost until he knew his legs would support him. He marshalled enough energy to walk the few steps to the chair by the table. He nearly collapsed into it.

‘Mairi said your name is Lucas.’ Niven set the tray in front of him.

He ought to have introduced himself. ‘That is so.’

The boy flopped down on a second wooden chair at the table. ‘Mr Grassie said you were in the army, because of the scars on your chest. Is that so?’

They’d seen his scars? Of course they had. He’d been nearly naked.

‘Not any more,’ he replied, wishing the boy would probe no further. He tore off a piece of bread and swallowed a small bite. ‘Tell me what you know of how I came to be here,’ he said instead. ‘Your sister said very little of it.’

The boy was eager to answer. ‘Davina and I found you. Davina is my other sister. You saw her before when we came in.’

He told the story in great detail with emphasis on the speed of his running to seek help from his older sister and again to send for the wagon that had carried Lucas back from one of the hills on their property, a hill that possessed a stone circle. Flashes of memory returned. The rain. Staggering to a stone that kept the cold wind from his back. Voices—Niven’s and Davina’s voices, he now surmised.

Mairi Wallace had waited with him until the wagon came. It seemed she’d been at his side right from the beginning.

‘How was it your sister was the one to care for me?’ Why not a servant? Or their mother?

‘Mairi? She wouldn’t let anybody else,’ the boy responded. ‘Except for me. I sat with you when she had to eat or rest or something, but she wouldn’t let me touch you. Said nobody else should get close.’

Because they could become ill? What about her? She had risked illness tending to him.

Lucas took a long gulp of ale. ‘Were there no servants who could help?’

‘Mairi would not hear of it,’ Niven replied. ‘We don’t have that many servants, anyway. Several have left us recently.’ Niven leaned back, balancing on the back legs of the chair. ‘So Mairi thinks she has to do everything to make up for it.’ The chair slipped, but he caught it in time to right it again. ‘If Mama knew it, she’d be very cross.’ He grinned mischievously. ‘Mama thinks the servants are still doing all the work. I tease Mairi that I’ll tell Mama she’s doing it. Or making Davina and me do it. Mairi becomes too iron-handed at times. She can be the most insufferable nag.’

Mairi sounded incredibly burdened. More so now with him barely able to stand.

‘Why did your servants leave?’ Lucas asked.

‘I think they wanted to get paid,’ Niven replied. ‘Things are a little tight for us at the moment.’

That was quite an admission. Lucas had apparently wound up in a household that could not afford one extra mouth.

The boy chattered on as Lucas finished the soup. An hour passed pleasantly enough and Lucas learned more about the family than he suspected Niven’s older sister would have wished.

There was a rap on the door and Niven called out, ‘Come in.’

Miss Wallace—Mairi—entered. Lucas stood, but braced himself on the table.

‘Niven!’ She glared at her brother. ‘I’ve been searching for you. What are you doing in here? You should not be bothering this man.’

Niven looked petulant. ‘We were conversing. Conversing isn’t bothering.’

‘It is when he’s unwell,’ she retorted. ‘Take the dishes back to the kitchen, then wait for me. I need your help.’ She turned to Lucas. ‘I’ve brought your purse, Mr Lucas.’ She handed it to him.

‘Thank you, Miss Wallace.’ His hand brushed hers as he took it from her. ‘I appreciate that.’

Niven glanced towards Lucas and rolled his eyes. ‘I suppose I must do her bidding. Good day, Lucas.’

‘Thank you for bringing the food.’

‘Mairi made me do it.’ The boy grinned. ‘But I did not mind.’

‘Go!’ Miss Wallace commanded.

Niven slowly slid off the chair and ambled from the room.