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Given the lack of linens on the bed and the dust on the furniture, the cottage had probably been empty for weeks, if not months.
“How do you know about this place? It’s not close to Kendrick lands.”
Castle Kinglas, his family seat, was on the other side of Loch Long. A full day’s ride, if not more.
Kendrick disappeared into the pantry. From the sounds of it, he was searching for supplies.
“When we were younger, my brother and I used to hike these parts on our school holidays,” he said.
“Lord Arnprior?”
“Yes. It was before he inherited the title, of course.” He poked his head out. “We used to climb the trails from Loch Achray to above Loch Katrine, so we got to know Tom Morris, the crofter who lived here. Tom said we were always welcome to stay, whether he was here or not.”
She glanced around. “It would appear Mr. Morris no longer resides here.”
He disappeared back into the pantry. “Tom lives down in Callander with his daughter. She insisted he move there when he turned eighty-nine.” Donella heard him snort. “He wasn’t much happy about it, I can tell you.”
“It’s quite lovely that you kept up with him. You were away in Canada for at least seven years, were you not?”
When he didn’t reply, she assumed he hadn’t heard her. Not a surprise, since he was making a great deal of clattering noise in the pantry.
A moment later, he emerged with a pitcher and a handful of flannel cloths. “I’m going outside to pump some water, and then we’re going to wash and bind up that blister.”
“Can we not do it in the morning? I’d much rather have a bit to eat and then go to sleep.”
That was the absolute truth, since this day couldn’t end soon enough. And tomorrow would hopefully bring her cousin, Alasdair, to the rescue and get her safely home.
Kendrick’s eyes narrowed to ice blue slits. “Miss Haddon—”
“I wish you would stop referring to me asMiss Haddonin that dreary tone. You really do sound like Sister Bernard.”
“Would you prefer I call you Donella?” he sarcastically replied.
“Not in that tone of voice.”
“Whatever tone of voice I use, that boot is coming off.”
“Mr.Kendrick—”
“Now who sounds like Sister Bernard?”
He put the supplies on the table and sat on the bench, then carefully took her hand. She resisted the impulse to pull away—not that she had much of an impulse to do so.
“I know you’re embarrassed,” he said, “but you’re not an empty-headed, spoiled miss. You know what could happen if we don’t take care of this foot.”
She sighed. “I’m afraid I’m acting rather foolish. It’s just that . . .”
“It’s just that you barely know me, and there’s nothing comfortable about this situation.”
Donella felt even more of a fool. “I’m sorry.”
“Did we not agree that you apologize too much?”
She thought about it. “No, I don’t think we did.”
He shook his head. “I’m going out to fetch the water. Boot and sock off, please, before I get back.”
“Yes, sir.”
