In name only.
Bonnie, now, Bonnie needed her. But Bonnie remained safe in Annista’s chamber and Cora with her. The connecting door stood open. Annista needn’t worry for Bonnie. But the man in the bed…
“It has bled much,” she remarked when the bandages came away.
Both men looked at her. The physician, aged and gray-haired, looked like he’d seen everything and then some. His hands shook a little, but Annista was glad to see they remained reasonably gentle. She’d seen physicians in the past who handled their patients like so much game for butchering.
The physician, having eyed her, dismissed her from his notice other than to say, “Some claim a flow of blood is cleansing.”
“Ah—aye,” Alan croaked. His gaze clung to Annista’s, kind of hung on it. She wondered if he’d prefer her to leave, if it made him uncomfortable having her witness his distress.
Too bad if it did. She would not budge.
“Is there much damage to the lung?” she asked. When the physician eyed her again, she asked Alan directly, “Does it hurt much to breathe?”
“I can breathe.” Though not without pain, she could see that. “I do no’ ken whether the hurt is due to the stab or Evan’s fists crashing into my ribs.”
“You are young and will heal,” the physical told him.
“How long?” Alan returned, switching his gaze to the physician.
“Who can tell?”
“I should think ye could,” Alan snapped and Annista could not help but smile.
“Each man heals according to his own strength. Ye are no’ to leave this bed until the wound closes.”
“Ridiculous. I maun get up at once. I must find—”
“Out o’ the question. Mistress,” he deigned to speak to Annista directly then, “surely ye can think o’ a way to keep your husband in the bed.”
They both stared at him. Why, that old rascal!
A hectic flush touched Alan’s cheekbones. “I scarce think—”
“There are ways and means, eh?” the old man waggled his eyebrows. “Ye be newly wedded, so I hear. And your wife that devoted, she has no’ left your side.”
Alan said nothing, just gave Annista one scorching look.
A look that spoke volumes.
She sat with her hands folded, in silence, while the physician did his work and left a draught.
Alan’s mother met him at the chamber door. There was a hurried conversation in the hallway beyond, too hushed for Annista to catch the words spoken.
“Well, this is a revolting development,” Alan said in disgust. “How am I to be of help whilst stuck lying here?”
“Ye wish to be of help how?”
“Locating Evan, of course. Quelling him before—before any more harm can be done.”
“Quelling him? No easy task, that.”
Alan glowered. “He needs to be dried out. Denied his liquor. It just fires him up, makes what was always an ill temper that much worse.”
Annista eased back onto the mattress beside him. “D’ye truly believe there’s any hope o’ that?”
“I do no’ ken.”
