Page 74 of Ghost of the Ton

He nodded, and resumed his seat. “Wh-what must I do?”

“Keep your arm still. Can you do that?”

Brodie nodded.

“Good,” Mia said. “Place it on the table, then I’ll begin once the water’s heated.”

He hesitated, as if to gather his courage, then nodded and placed his arm on the table.

To his credit, the young man only cried out once, at the first cut of the knife. Then he gritted his teeth, the beads of sweat swelling on his brow while Mia cleaned the wound in hot water. When she applied the salve, he swayed sideways as if he were going to faint. But he heeded her instruction to tell her about the horses he tended to while she wound a fresh bandage around his arm and secured it with a knot. When Mia finished, she placed a light hand on his arm.

“Bravo,” she said. “I commend your courage.”

Brodie shook his head, his cheeks flaming, and exhaled sharply. “I wasnae brave, ma’am. I’ve never been so fearful in my life. Murdoch already thinks me a coward. He’ll—”

“I think we can ignore what Murdoch thinks,” Mia said. “You confess that you were afraid, yet still you came, and weathered my treatment without a word.”

“B-but I cried.”

“At the first cut, then you were silent. Do you have any idea how many men screamed and cried for their mothers for far less when I treated them at the hospital?”

“Ye worked in a hospital?”

“I assisted a doctor in London. Dr. McIver—one of your countrymen.”

“Then ye’re not…” He colored and lowered his gaze.

“Not a witch?” Mia said, unable to disguise the bitterness in her voice. “Or a charlatan? Perhaps, Brodie, you should discover the truth for yourself rather than listen to tattle.”

His color heightened and his lip wobbled as another tear splashed onto his cheek.

“Forgive me, that was unkind,” she said. “You’re in pain and a doctor should always put her patients first. Shall I make us some tea?”

“Oh, I dinnae know if I should…”

“It’s a tea to help with your pain. I’ll brew it for you now, then you can take some with you to brew yourself—or perhaps ask Mrs. McBride at the castle to help. But I’d like to see you again tomorrow, to see how you’re healing. Now, take a seat by the fire.”

Cradling his arm, he complied, and as Mia rose to make the tea, she heard another knock—a faint scratch, almost imperceptible—and went to the door.

A thin woman stood in the doorway. Her skin was so pale it was almost translucent, and she looked as if she might dissolve into the air at the slightest breath of the wind. Her eyes were dark, almost black against the pallor of her skin.

Mia’s stomach fluttered with apprehension. Was it a ghost?

Then the woman spoke.

“F-forgive me”—she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening with fear—“Y-Yer Ladyship, but I thought I might…”

“Evie!” Brodie cried, and he appeared at Mia’s side. Then he peered out of the door. “Are ye on yer own?”

“Aye,” the woman said, in a thin, reedy voice. “Murdoch’s out cutting peat and Billy’s at school all day, so I thought”—she resumed her gaze on Mia—“I-I thought…” She stepped back. “F-forgive me. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Nonsense,” Brodie said. “Ye should come in, seeing as ye’ve come all the way here. Murdoch needn’t know where ye’ve been.”

The woman frowned and stared at Mia.

“This is my cousin Evie,” Brodie said. “She’s Ailsa and Billy’s ma. She’s not been well, have ye, Evie?”

“Would you like to come in?” Mia said, offering her hand. “There’s no need to be afraid. Despite what you may have heard, I’m no witch.”