“No, it seems not. You don’t sound surprised.”
Roderick’s smile was sharp and humorless. “I’m not. I’ve seen your kind before. Now you’ll insist on some elaborate and expensive ritual, eh? One that keeps you here leeching off our goodwill for months.”
The dog was finally recaptured, but William did not return to the bed. He’d been accused of being a charlatan before. In the past he’d either proven himself or shrugged it off. He was not one to care overmuch what others thought. But this man’s words sent a sharp stab of anger through his chest—especially since what he said was partially true.
When he did not reply, Roderick arched sardonic brows. “Hmm? Have you an answer for me, man?”
William had an answer for him, but since ladies were present and he was a guest, he kept his mouth shut.
Rose was beside him, her hand on his arm, her auburn brows drawn together. “What is it?”
Roderick looked from Rose’s face, to her hand, toWilliam. His sneer became knowing. “Is that the way of it, now? Because if this is all to get a fine MacDonell dowry, we dinna give our lassies to cummerwalds.”
Rose’s mouth dropped open in astonished horror. “Uncle Roderick! What are you saying?”
William’s pulse pounded painfully in his temples. “Nothing I’ve not heard before.” He gave Roderick a dark look. “It will interest me greatly if he’ll have so much to say when we discuss this later. Alone.”
Roderick snorted. “We have naught to discuss, charlatan. Finish your business tonight and get gone.”
“He will not,” Rose said, the high blades of her cheeks stained red. “Youwill notspeak to him in such a manner.”
“God damn it, Rose—he’s duped you! Dinna be his gawpy.”
Next to William, Rose shook, hands fisted at her sides. He recognized the moment she was about to lunge at her uncle, and he put a hand on her shoulder to stay her. “Later, lass.” He turned her so she could accompany him to the bed.
Summoning the magic again, he moved his hands over Alan’s body. And again he felt nothing on his first pass. Frowning deeply, he did a second, slower pass. Nothing. He fisted his hands against his thighs, staring hard at the man on the bed.
William’s healings were not always successful: Sometimes more than one person needed his help, and he could not heal more than one or two people at a time, as a major ailment laid him up for a day or more, making him useless if anyone else needed him. There were twoother reasons he could not heal someone. A wound that had healed—however incorrectly—was healed. He could not undo that. He suspected that would be the case with young Stephen Ross.
The last reason was witchcraft. A witch he might be, but he could not undo black magic. He’d seen it once before, though it had been far different from this, the person bocking up nails and hair and such, shuddering and convulsing and acting like a madman. William had been at a loss, and the man had died.
“Let me guess,” Alan said dryly. “You can find nothing wrong.”
William did not want to admit it. He did not want to let Rose down—had not known how much it had meant to him to do this for her, to make her happy. It was so important to her, it seemed, as if her life were stagnant, waiting for her father to live or die. He’d been her last hope. She’d written that to him again and again until it had made him angry and he’d burned the letters. It made him angry now, but a different sort of anger. At himself. At her ill-tempered uncle for making it worse with his badgering.
“No,” William admitted reluctantly. “I canna find anything wrong.”
Alan shrugged, fatigue etched in every line of his face, the tilt of his head. “Didn’t think you would. I’ve been seen by every healer in Scotland, methinks, and some without. None can find a damn thing wrong with me. But all agree I’m dying.” William read the words he left unsaid—that he wished to get on with the dying part.
William heard Rose’s quick intake of breath beside him, as if she fought to control her emotions. A bandtightened around his chest, urging him not to give up.
“I’m going to touch you,” he said. Though he’d never attempted to heal an ailment he couldn’t see, it was worth a try.
Alan nodded his consent. William placed his palms on the man’s sunken chest, aware of all the eyes watching him intently, hopefully. He closed his eyes, and the magic washed down his arms and into Alan. The older man gasped, but there was nothing there, nothing for William to latch onto, and it quickly surged back up inside him.
He removed his hands and straightened from the bed, shaking his head slowly. “I canna find aught wrong with you.”
Alan raised a skeptical brow. “It certainlyfeelsas if something is amiss.”
William took a deep breath. “Well, I suspect something is very much amiss, and if you’ve a moment alone, I’ll tell you what I think.”
“Alone?” Roderick said, trying to shove William away so he could stand at Alan’s bedside. William didn’t move, giving the unpleasant man a warning glare.
But Roderick didn’t seem to notice, sneering at him. “Why do ye need to speak to him alone? So you can feed him lies and squeeze more payment out of him?”
“He has asked for no payment!” Rose cried, pushing to stand in front of William and confront her uncle. William stepped back for her.
“Rose will stay,” he said. “To make certain I cozen no one.”
