She did not look up again.
She did not trust what her face would do if she did. She kept her head down, her focus on the herbs, her heart beating a frantic, hopeful rhythm she had no good name for and no intention of examining.
Nae yet. Nae this.
The boy. Think about the boy.
The grinding continued. The light held. And she thought about neither.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Mairi arrived for her third herb lesson. Catriona noticed a bunch of dried lavender and a jar of honey she'd brought as a gift. Catriona didn't know if she had the intention of memorizing anything. The first two lessons weren't very productive. She watched Mairi set the items down, the girl's movements a little too quick, a little too bright.
"Lavender for sleep," she said, setting the bunch on the worktable with the air of someone who had done their preparation. "That's the only one I remember." She gave a small, sheepish grin that made her eyes sparkle.
"Lavender for sleep, for anxiety, for mild inflammation of the skin, for headaches when applied to the temple, and as a component in three different compound preparations." Catriona set the honey to one side and pulled the lavender toward her. "Which of those did ye want to start with?" She kept her tone dry, though her eyes were soft.
Mairi sat down and her hands found her knees and stilled there. Whatever she had walked in with, she was reassessing it. Her shoulders were tense, and she kept darting glances toward the door.
"Ye ken Donal's nephew arrived yesterday?"
"I didnae." Catriona pulled a sprig of lavender from the bunch, her fingers nimble.
"Aye. Big lad. Red hair. He looked at me at supper and then looked away, which Eidith says means he's interested, but I think it means he was looking at the bread behind my head." She tilted her head. "What do ye think?" She chewed her lip, her expression a mix of hope and doubt.
"I think," Catriona said, setting the lavender into the mortar, "that I cannae tell ye anything useful about Donal's nephew from this room. I can tell ye that lavender requires a light hand with the pestle or the volatile oils break down and ye lose half the potency." She began to grind, her movements precise.
"Right." Mairi watched her grind. "He did look again later though." Mairi's voice was small, almost a whisper.
"At ye or the bread?"
"Me." A pause. "I think." A soft flush of pink rose to Mairi's cheeks.
Catriona pressed the pestle down. "What did Eidith say?"
Mairi brightened immediately, because this was what she had come for.
"She said I should speak to him at the evenin' meal and say somethin' intelligent. She said," Mairi straightened her spine and arranged her expression into Eidith's precise severity. "'A man worth havin' notices a woman who has somethin' to say. A man nae worth havin' willnae listen regardless, so ye lose nothin' either way.'" She mimicked the sharp, crisp tones of Eidith's voice perfectly, her brow furrowing with the effort.
Catriona looked up.
"That's," She paused. "That's actually good advice."
"I ken." Mairi deflated slightly. "It's annoyin' when she's right. She's always right. It's one of her more exhaustin' qualities." She picked up a dried sprig of something from the edge of the table and turned it between her fingers. "What's this one?" She examined the herb with forced intensity, trying to hide her smile.
"Elecampane. Daenae eat it."
Mairi set it down. "I wasnae going to eat it." She looked at Catriona, her eyes wide with mock-offense.
"Ye were examinin' it like ye were considerin' it."
"I examine things. It's a character trait." She folded her hands in her lap. Her shoulders dropped, just slightly. Here, then. This was what she had come for. The teasing light left her face, replaced by a more sober focus.
"Eidith told Cook yesterday that anyone who had a problem with the healer's presence in the keep could take it up with her directly." She let that sit for a moment. "Nobody has taken it up with her directly." Mairi's gaze was steady, her expression full of a quiet pride.
Catriona kept her eyes on the mortar. She felt a sudden, sharp prick of emotion in her chest, a sense of protection she hadn't known she had.
"There were two of the older men," Mairi continued, her voice dropping to the register she used for information she'd decided was important, "who were sayin' things in the yard after the last supply run. About the fox. About James improvin' too fast." She paused. "Eidith heard. She didnae say anythin' to them." Mairi's jaw tightened, her eyes flashing.
