Demon Laird (Legacy of the Mist Clans) (20 page)

Marta, Seamus
, and Ian had returned to the great hall with plenty of people willing to help. Lia moved through the sick and instructed those who would assist on a variety of things to watch for, how to give them their medicants, and make sure they were comfortable and that their fevers did not go too high. As she worked, she heard Ronan’s deep laugh rumble through the hall.

He continued
to sit at the high table, but she was glad to note he had propped his leg up on an extra chair. Aidan now sat next to him, both holding mugs. The villagers approached Ronan hesitantly at first, but with growing confidence as his laugh sounded more often and his smile appeared more frequently.

Lachlan
returned to the hall and strode quickly toward her. “Milady, the wagon is ready and waiting for ye.”

“Thank you,
Lachlan. It will be but a moment. Would you run upstairs and fetch my journal from the solar? I need to document what we are doing here and prepare more medicants before I go to the village.”

“Of course,
milady.” He hurried upstairs.

Lia returned
to the high table to mix the medicants they needed, out of the way of Ronan and Aidan.

“How
goes it?” Ronan asked.

“Very well, thank you. Your ideas will make things so much easier.”

He nodded, smiling at her.

Lachlan
quickly returned with her journal. Lia untied it but looked at the single remaining sheet of unmarked vellum in dismay.

“What’s wrong, lass?” Ronan asked.

She held up the last sheet. “I fear this has been rather hard on my supply.”

“
Lachlan,” Ronan prompted.

“At once, MacGrigor.” Again the young man hurried off.

Lia looked at Ronan in confusion.

“The least I can do is replace a few simple sheets of vellum, especially after all the trouble I gave ye over them.”

Within moments, Lachlan returned with a stack of vellum. “Is this enough, milady?”

“More than enough, thank you
Lachlan.”

Lia quickly scribbled more notes and noticed both Ronan and Aidan watching her curiously. The blush rose in her cheeks
, but she fought to ignore them and finish the task at hand. Once her notes were completed, she left the sheets to dry and turned her attentions toward mixing her medicants. She was surprised when Ronan stood and joined her. Just like before, he handed the various herbs to her as she requested them.

“Ronan, you realize you don’t have
to do this.”

“But I do, lassie
. I find yer work intriguing and wish tae learn more.”

She couldn’t argue with that
, especially after she had told him knowledge was the best way to defeat the fear of the Demon Laird. Seeing their laird working so diligently with the healer would demonstrate to the people that he too searched for answers to his illness.

While she worked, another young man, one she had never seen before, entered the keep and barked a greeting
to Aidan. Ronan also waved a greeting. Aidan rose and strode toward him, and the two disappeared above stairs.

“One of Aidan’s birds,” Ronan said softly
.

“Do you need
to go above stairs?”

“Nay, Aidan will tell me when he is ready.”

She nodded and looked at the cups she had prepared. “I’ve done all I can here. Are you ready to go to the village?”

“Aye, lassie. Marta, if you would be so kind.”

Marta joined them with a handful of able-bodied villagers in tow. “These people will help with those who are ill in the village,” she said.

“Excellent.”

Ronan led them from the keep, descending the steep, narrow stairs to the bailey with surprising ease considering his lame leg. Lia couldn’t help but marvel at him. He seemed to be able to adapt to situations when he put his mind to it. She was even more surprised when he took her to the bench of the wagon and helped her climb in. Marta and the others crawled into the back, and Ronan stepped around the horses to where the drover stood. He nodded to the man, who stepped back, and using his cane, Ronan levered himself into the drover’s seat and took the reins.

“Thank ye, Rory
,” he said. “I have it from here.”

“As ye will, MacGrigor,” the man said.

“Get up,” he barked to the horses and shook the reins. They started forward at a walk, and Ronan deftly guided them through the very active bailey. They passed under the barbican and through the gates. Ronan urged the horses into a trot and the wagon proceeded smoothly down the dirt road. He shot Lia a sideways glance and saw her looking at him.

“What?” he asked.

“You are just full of surprises.”

He chuckled. “Connell was right,” he said softly. “I’ve done my s
hare of work alongside my clanspeople. It is something I look forward tae returning tae.”

And no doubt his people wanted
to see him return to it. The more things appeared normal to them, the less they would fear Ronan and the Demon Laird.

It only took them moments
to reach the building that housed the ill in the village. It was really too close to have gone to the trouble of tethering horses to a wagon, but it was also too far for Ronan to walk right now. Lia had spoken the truth—she didn’t want him out of her sight just yet. She knew the moment she did he would probably have another fit, and she needed to witness how and when they occurred.

“Lass,” he said looking at the door. “These be the people too terrified of the Demon Laird
tae come tae the castle. They were even terrified of ye because ye came tae tend tae me. Are ye certain I shouldn’t wait for ye here?”

He had a point
, but she shook her head. “You thought the same that first night about those in the great hall, but they surprised you.”

“Aye.”

“I don’t want you to overextend yourself, but I think doing exactly what you did that first night will help the people here.”

Marta led the people willing
to help through the door. Ronan easily lowered himself from the wagon, careful not to put any weight on his injured leg, and came around to assist Lia. He offered her his free arm and escorted her through the door.

The moment he entered
, a voice cried out in alarm, followed by a second. Echoes of “Demon Laird” grew in strength.

Ronan ducked his head, his shoulders slumping. He started
to turn away, but Lia latched on to his arm and refused to release him.

“Nay,” she said firmly. “You will not run.”

He looked down at her arm, firmly entwined around his, then slowly lifted his gaze. The pain she saw in his eyes nearly broke her heart. She turned to rebuke them. Didn’t they realize how much their fear hurt his heart? But before she could speak, Marta stepped forward.

“Silence, ye fools,” she snapped. “The next person who speaks against our laird will find themselves on the street.
He is here tae help ye. Despite his grievous wounds, he rises in defense of ye, just as the laird we have always kenned. If I hear one word spoken out of turn, ye shall have tae deal with me.”

Lia looked back
to Ronan, her lips twitching at Marta’s ferocity.

Ronan shook his head, also fighting down a smile. Lia was very glad
to see the spark return to his eyes.

As before in the great hall, Ronan helped distribute medicants. Lia also listened
to his ideas for organization to once again ease her workload and free up her time. She was also glad to note no one again voiced their fear over the Demon Laird. Apparently, they feared Marta’s wrath more. Lia made her notes and as they prepared to leave, found herself confident that Ronan’s ideas would work.

He approached the table she sat at and returned the last cup. “Is there anything else, lassie?” he asked.

She looked up and smiled but immediately noted his features seemed too pale for her liking. “I believe that’s everything. Marta and the others will stay here. You and I can return to the castle.”

He nodded and offered his arm once again.

Lia rose and accepted it, carrying her journal with her, but she watched Ronan closely. “Are you growing weary?”

“Nay, I will be fine.” He escorted her through the door
to the wagon.

“Ronan,” she said
when they were out of earshot of the others, “remember your words earlier? How you said you understood why people weren’t completely honest with Sueta and I, but that it only made our work more difficult?”

“Aye,” he said but refused
to look at her.

“I need you
to be completely honest with me if I am to help you.”

He looked at her and agai
n, and she saw his internal struggle plain on his face.

“I know it takes great strength
to admit one’s weakness, when doing things you would do without a second thought suddenly become a challenge like none other. But I cannot help you unless you tell me the truth.”

Again he studied her a long moment then slowly nodded. “I am weary.”

“Are you in pain?”

“Nay, but I am a bit
light-headed.”

She looked
to the wagon. “Perhaps I should fetch one of the lads inside to drive the wagon back.”

He too looked at the wagon
. A devilish spark ignited and he smiled at her. A warning shiver skittered down her spine. Dear Lord in heaven, his expression meant nothing but trouble.

“No need, lassie,” he said and extended his hand
to her. “For ye shall drive the team back.”

“Me?” she squeaked. “Ronan, I barely know how
to ride a horse.”

“Worry not, I will help ye.”

Lia swallowed hard, looking at the giant horses in terror.

Ronan stepped closer to her, his body only inches from hers. She could not help herself as she inhaled deeply. He had such a pleasant scent—spice and leather. He lowered his head, his lips a scant distance from her ear. “Lassie, I demonstrated my faith in ye and told ye true. Now I pray ye have faith in me.”

How could she deny him? She swallowed hard and nodded.

His smile grew and he extended his hand to help her into the wagon. “Slide over just a bit, but not too far.”

She did so and he levered himself into the wagon
, although she noted this time he appeared to struggle. He managed to settle himself on the bench and picked up the reins. The horses tried to automatically go forward, but he had not released the brake on the wagon.

“Ho there, lads,” he said sternly.

The horses quieted. Ronan reached out with his right arm and wrapped it around Lia. Her breath caught in her throat as he pulled her tight against his side. His arm remained around her and her heart pounded wildly.

“Now, lassie, take the reins.” He showed her how
to hold them. One horse tugged its head downward and nearly yanked her from the bench. Ronan’s hands covered hers and his strength enabled her to control the beast.

“There,” he said softly. “Ye see
, lassie, between the two of us, we shall do just fine.”

She swallowed hard and looked up at him. “Are…
are you sure, Ronan?”

He grinned down at her, his smile brightening his face. With his left foot, he released the brake on the wagon. “Get up!” he barked
. The wagon lurched forward. His hands tightened over hers, his arm firm around her shoulders, keeping her tucked neatly against him.

Lia wanted
to scream but was afraid of spooking the horses.

“Give them their heads a bit, lass,” Ronan said, encouraging her
to loosen her death grip on the reins. “They will do their jobs if ye only let them.”

She did as he asked
, but her heart pounded so wildly she was certain he could feel it.

Ronan helped her steer the horses into the center of the road leading back
to the castle. They were only walking, but the pace seemed entirely too fast for her.

“Let them trot,” he said.

Again she looked up at him, trying to think through her fear. His face was pale, but he looked at her and gave her an encouraging smile. Suddenly, she understood his intent. Trust was not given, it was earned. If he was to have faith in her, she needed also to demonstrate her faith in him. She felt her smile grow as she gazed up at him then looked at his hands covering hers. With Ronan helping her, she would be able to control the team if they unexpectedly spooked. She could do this.

“Get up!” she told the horses.

The horses started to trot and Ronan’s deep laugh sounded beside her. She felt it rumbling through his body as his arm tightened around her shoulders.

They returned
to the castle and Lia decided it was all too quickly. Ronan helped her slow the team and navigate the crowded bailey.