“Sir Hugh. Sir Hugh.” Alec’s whispered voice penetrated the thick fog that clouded Braden’s thoughts that morn. “The healer is here.”

Braden blinked, trying to make sense of the boy’s words. His limbs felt heavy, his hand so much so that he could hardly lift it to rub his face. He frowned at Alec, hoping he’d explain of what he was speaking.

“The healer has come to see if she can aid Lady Cairstine.”

Braden sat up, his head spinning from the sudden movement, his thoughts muddled. His gaze moved to Ilisa, who slept beside him.

Her face was still pale, the bruise along her hairline visible though only a small bump remained. That pleased him. Excellent improvement considering mere hours had passed since she’d fallen. He’d done his best to heal her other injuries during the night but didn’t know if he’d done them all. “Ask her to give us a moment or two then show her in.”

Alec nodded, but he stared at his sister, his expression filled with a tangle of hope and fear. “Is she better?”

“We’ll soon know.” He swallowed hard, praying it was so. Any other outcome was unthinkable.

He hoped he’d healed Ilisa enough to speed her recovery for he didn’t think he could take much more. Deep exhaustion weighted him, settling into his very bones, refusing to leave.

But he couldn’t leave the healer outside the tent for too long else the whole camp would be talking about it. “Tell the healer to enter, please.”

“Aye, sir.” Alec turned and stepped out of the tent, his voice a faint murmur.

Braden shifted to lean over Ilisa, running a finger along her cheek, wondering if she’d stir. While he knew sleep was best for her, he was desperate to know how she fared. The smooth rhythm of her breath was a good sign but didn’t tell him nearly enough. “Ilisa?” he whispered.

Her lashes fluttered along with his heart.

Her eyes opened, before at last settling on him—on something deep inside him that felt suspiciously like his soul.

“Ilisa.” He drew the first breath since her fall that didn’t feel as if a band wrapped tight around his chest. Hell’s teeth, but she’d given him a terrible fright. The memory of her crumpled body on the stone floor sent a shiver through him.  “How do you fare?”

“You.” Her brow wrinkled, causing that band to snap back into place, stopping his breath. “What did you do?”

How could he have forgotten for even a moment what she might think of him now? He should never have healed her when she’d been awake. No matter how much pain she’d been in, he should’ve waited until she’d either lost consciousness or slept. Revealing his gift to her had been a terrible mistake.

He eased back a bit, struggling to find an excuse, a reasonable explanation to give that might ease her fear of him, but his thoughts remained sluggish.

“Braden.” She lifted her hand to cup his cheek. “You saved me.”

His gaze caught on hers. Hope sprung forth at the light in her blue eyes.

“Good morn,” a female voice with a strong Scottish accent greeted them. “How fares the lady?”

Braden swallowed hard in an attempt to contain his reeling emotions. No doubt they were a result of his weakened state, not due to his growing feelings for her. With that false thought rattling through his mind, he swung his legs off the bed, their slow response making him wonder if he could stand. In order to recover, he needed to rest, but that would have to wait.

The healer’s appearance couldn’t have been more different from Hilda’s. She was younger, taller, thinner, with long dark hair and a basket over her arm. Something about her confidence as she studied them spoke of her competency. He well knew age wasn’t the only indicator of an ability to heal.

“I heard from Monroe that ye took a tumble.” Her curious gaze swept over Ilisa’s form.

Braden hoped Ilisa chose her words wisely when she spoke with the woman. The last thing he wanted was for his gift to be shared with anyone, even a healer. Forcing himself to rise, Braden stood on weak legs, hoping they would support him. “Aye, she did.”

“I’m called Effie. You have a few broken bones, eh?” Yet the frown she wore suggested she didn’t know if that were true.

Ilisa blinked as though uncertain how to respond. Braden knew she was no doubt confused by the question since she’d only just woken. What had been broken when she’d arrived in the tent was no longer. “I’m not certain, though I can tell you I’m very sore.”

“The stairs in the keep have caused more than one fall,” Effie said, stepping closer to set down the basket. “I’ve come to see if I can be of assistance. My apologies, but for some reason, no one notified me of your fall until this morn, else I would’ve been here anon.”

Braden didn’t bother to respond. Monroe and Matthew would’ve thought him crazed if he’d told them not to send for the healer at all. But that would’ve caused even more questions. He preferred not to mention he had knowledge of healing himself. ’Twas unusual for a man to claim that talent, let alone to reveal he had the power to heal within moments. That would most likely get him burned at the stake or subject to some terrible trial.

“Shall we have a look at ye then?” Effie stepped closer, reaching for Ilisa’s blanket-covered foot. Without waiting for a response, she gently moved her hands up Ilisa’s leg.

Ilisa’s gaze caught on Braden’s. “I don’t believe my injuries were as bad as first thought.” She moved her foot as though to provide proof. “I’ve some bruising and soreness, but I don’t believe anything is broken.”

The intensity of Ilisa’s expression had him swallowing hard, uncertain what might be going through her mind.

“I’m surprised to find ye awake and speaking.” Effie shook her head, muttering to herself as she continued to examine Ilisa. “Forgive me, milady, but I had the idea that I’d find ye on yer deathbed.”

“You and I both.” Braden cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. He was torn between stepping outside to allow them a moment or standing watch to make certain Ilisa took care with her words and that the healer didn’t press her for an explanation. It didn’t help that tiredness still pulled at him.

The more he thought on what she’d said about him saving her, the more he realized she might’ve just been referring to the fact that he’d found her. Mayhap she didn’t know that he’d healed her. Mayhap she believed just what she’d told the healer.

Why wasn’t he relieved by that?

Confused at what he wanted and why, he decided a breath of fresh air might help clear the exhaustion from his mind. “I’ll be right outside.”

Ilisa watched him go, her expression unreadable. Did she want him to stay? Did she think he was abandoning her? He shifted the tent flap to look back. “Call out should you have need of me.”

That didn’t garner a reaction either. The weight of Effie and Ilisa’s stares had him closing the flap once more to find Alec staring at him with a question in his eyes.

“Women,” Braden muttered.

Alec grinned. He glanced at the flap then whispered, “She looks better, does she not?”

“Indeed. So much better.” Then again, he’d deem her opening her eyes a true miracle after the condition in which he’d found her.

“I can’t thank you enough.” Alec looked at him, his heart in his eyes. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if—” He broke off as though unable to complete the thought, let alone the sentence.

“Me neither.” The faint murmur of voices came from inside the tent, so quiet that he couldn’t tell who was speaking nor what was being said.

He looked about the outer bailey, appreciating that the other guests kept their distance for the moment. Rolling hills were just visible in the distance above the holding wall. Mist hung in the valleys as it so often did in Scotland, the early light carrying a soft, golden glow. The land here was rugged and beautiful, the people amazingly strong. Yet for Braden, it wasn’t home. An ache rolled over him, causing him to rub his chest. Mayhap he could blame it on his exhaustion, but after all that had occurred, he missed home and family.

Would Chanse return to Hilda’s only to find them gone? His brother had intended to return after escorting Garrick and Sophia home but plans changed, and there was no easy way to deliver messages with such news. Would he come in search of them or wait for their return?

“Last eve, after we’d settled in for the night, someone approached the tent.” Alec’s words chilled Braden, catching his full attention.

“Oh?”

“I was wide awake, so worried over Lady Cairstine that I couldn’t sleep.” The boy looked away, whether in embarrassment or unease, Braden didn’t know. “I may not have paid much attention if he hadn’t taken care to move with such stealth. There are people up throughout the night with the guests camped here. Some rise to take a piss or to check on things.” He shook his head. “Someone is always moving about.”

Braden nodded, willing him to continue.

“He came around the side of the tent, the hood of his cloak pulled low over his face. I stood, thinking it might be someone coming to see how Il—Lady Cairstine fared. But when he caught sight of me, he just nodded and kept walking.” Alec moved his palm through the air to show the direction he’d gone.

“You might’ve saved your sister’s life.” Alec normally slept in the stables as many of the other squires did. Mayhap whoever had tried to pay a late-night visit expected him to be there instead of outside the tent.

“I keep thinking over it, wondering if I imagined his odd behavior.”

“I don’t think you imagined anything. Your sister did not fall off the stairs.” He studied Alec to see if this came as a shock. “She was pushed.”

“Why? For speaking to Lady Arabela?” Alec didn’t seem surprised in the least.

“I don’t know. Either someone wants Arabela to have few friends, or they think we’ve been asking too many questions. Either way, we must tread with great care from this point forward.”

Alec nodded then backed away as Lord Gideon walked toward them.

“I heard the terrible news,” Gideon said. “How fares your wife?”

“She’s resting. Her injuries may not have been to the extent initially thought. She woke this morn, and the healer is seeing to her now.” If he could give recognition to Effie for Ilisa’s remarkable recovery, that would make life easier and safer for him.

But how to convince Effie she aided in Ilisa’s healing? He needed her to report to anyone who asked her that Lady Cairstine’s injuries weren’t as severe as originally thought. Anything that cast attention away from him.

“My wife is most anxious to visit with Lady Cairstine when she’s ready for visitors.”

Braden nearly grimaced. That would be the last thing Ilisa wanted. He needed to make certain the lady kept her distance.

 

~*~

 

Ilisa’s head spun as Effie spoke. Things were moving so quickly that she could hardly grasp what was happening. She had yet to move from her position, afraid of the terrifying pain returning. But she also knew the worst of it was gone. Her mind couldn’t grasp that. Couldn’t understand how it was possible.

Braden.

He was the reason. Somehow. Some way. He obviously didn’t want to talk about it. His behavior as he’d left the tent had made that clear.

She shifted on the bed, trying to understand the extent of her injuries—or rather, her recovery.

The weight of Effie’s regard had her stilling. She gathered her thoughts else the healer would think she’d rattled her brain in the fall.

“Shall we have a look?” the woman asked. At Ilisa’s nod, she drew aside the blankets and lifted her kirtle and chemise to reveal her leg and hip.

The bruises there were impressive, but not nearly as impressive as the realization that what should’ve been crushed below the black-and-blue skin was now whole. Ilisa couldn’t wrap her mind around how this had come to be.

She feared Effie had the same thoughts for she stared at her leg overlong. Ilisa could see the questions forming, but she had no answers. She preferred to distract the healer if possible, though she’d already made it clear Ilisa’s lack of injuries was a surprise.

“I’ve a poultice that should aid you,” Effie said at last, reaching for her basket.

“How long have you lived here?” Ilisa asked as Effie worked.

“All my life. My mother was a healer in the village before me and taught me all she knew.”

The healer’s timing had been most unfortunate. The vulnerability in Braden’s expression had suggested that if she pressed him, he might admit what he’d done—who he was. But she had the suspicion the moment had now passed and wouldn’t come again soon, if ever.

She’d had her suspicions between the mare at St. Mary’s, Garrick’s remarkable recovery, and then Braden’s horse. Now she knew beyond a doubt that Braden had a gift, one he guarded closely.

“Lord Graham is lucky to have you.” Ilisa rested her eyes, weary beyond belief, but grateful to be alive and free of the stabbing pain.

She opened them to find Effie studying her, no doubt trying to reconcile the injuries she’d been told about compared to the ones she saw. “He is not easy to please.”

“I was visiting his daughter, Arabela, before I fell.” There seemed no point in saying she was pushed until she knew who’d done it. Surely it would be best for her safety and that of Braden and Alec’s if she acted as though she’d fallen. Forgetting the actual events of such an accident wasn’t unusual.

Effie’s hands stilled. “How was she?”

“Well. Concerned, of course.” Ilisa wanted to hint that Arabela had confided in her but not say too much. Were Arabela and Effie on friendly terms?

“Hmm.” Effie applied the poultice then wrapped it with strips of linen. “I’ll leave you a remedy for the pain in case it becomes overbearing. You’ll need to add wine to it, give it a good stir then drink it down.”

“Who requested that you come?” Ilisa hadn’t seen her attacker, but that didn’t mean she didn’t intend to do all in her power to determine who it was.

“Monroe sent a servant.” Effie returned her things to the basket. “You had a narrow escape. Many who’ve fallen on the stairs ended up much worse.”

The sensation of absolute panic as she’d fallen, the stone floor growing ever closer filled her, caused her to swallow hard.

“What is it?” Effie asked.

“A bad memory.” Ilisa shook her head, not wanting to talk about it for fear of reliving it once again. One more nightmare to add to the other that already haunted her.

“Have no fear. That will soon fade.”

Ilisa nodded, but she knew otherwise. “Have many fallen from the steps?”

Effie hesitated. “More than you’d think.”

Did that mean other “accidents” had occurred? “Do you worry for Arabela?” She had to push further for information. Effie surely visited many people and people talked. Their time here would soon be at end, and they still hadn’t gotten what they came here for.

“I think the lady is worried for the wrong reasons,” Effie said, her hands slowing their work.

“How do you mean?”

Effie scowled as though struggling whether to share more. “She worries over her future when she must worry over her present.”

Ilisa pondered the healer’s words. Mayhap her thoughts were slowed by her ordeal, but she didn’t understand the meaning of her advice. “I’m not certain I understand.”

Effie shook her head. “I cannot say more on that. But I’ll tell you that you should worry over your present rather than Lady Arabela’s, don’t you think?” Effie’s gaze narrowed as she looked at Ilisa. “I think your concerns keep you tied to your past. You must release them in order to reach for your future.”

Ilisa raised a hand to her still spinning head, weariness clouding her thoughts. Past. Present. Future. ’Twas too much to consider. “I don’t understand.”

“It will all make sense soon. Just remember that life is about the moments, not our plans.” Effie hooked her basket over her arm. “I will return on the morrow to see how you fare. If you have need of me before that, send the boy.”

Ilisa nodded, barely able to keep open her eyes. Yet she wanted to. She wanted to ask Effie to explain her words as she felt a clue was hidden in them that she was missing.

And even more, she wanted to talk to Braden, to ask what he’d done. How? Why?

Instead, her eyes drifted closed, and she slept.

 

~*~

 

When Braden learned that Lord Graham had delayed the tournament upon hearing of the terrible accident that had befallen Ilisa, he wasn’t certain whether to be grateful or annoyed.

Grateful as it gave Ilisa another day to rest and would allow Braden another day to discover who’d tried to kill her. Annoyed as it meant spending at least two additional days here when he was done with this place.

He returned to the tent soon after the healer left, only to find Ilisa sleeping soundly. Determined to make good use of the opportunity, he asked Alec to watch over Ilisa and went to the keep to look over the place where he’d found her, hoping the daylight would reveal something. As he stood there, anger washed through him. Who had turned her over? Why?

The only possible explanation was because the villain wanted to see if she lived. Someone knew something, of that he had no doubt. Now to see if he could find out whom.

He hurried up the tower steps from which she’d fallen to the upper floor and knocked on Arabela’s chamber door. Though he knew it was inappropriate to attempt to speak with her there, the events were unusual and so called for unusual action.

Unfortunately, she didn’t answer. Did she know Cairstine had suffered a grave injury after coming to see her? He no longer knew what to think of Graham’s daughter. At this point, everyone remained suspect.

Since someone had tried to kill Ilisa, did that mean he should expect an attempt on his own life? What of Alec?

Had they asked so many questions that it stirred concern with Graham? Or had it been as he’d first thought—someone wanted to keep Arabela isolated?

He went back down the steps and found Monroe entering the keep.

“I was just at your tent. Your squire told me your wife is recovering quite well. Much better than expected in fact.” Monroe appeared stunned at the news.

“She is. It seems her injuries were not as severe as I first thought. Mayhap she didn’t fall as far as I feared.”

Monroe shook his head. “’Tis a miracle. When I saw her last eve... I thought she might not survive the night.”

“The healer, Effie, came this morn. She was of great help.”

Monroe’s eyes narrowed as if doubtful of his words but he nodded anyway. “I’m pleased to hear that.”

“Have you seen Lady Arabela?”

“Nay, but then I rarely do. Have you checked the stables? You’re more likely to find her there than in the keep.”

“My thanks.” Braden didn’t waste time going into the great hall but headed directly for the stables.

Before he could begin inquiries of anyone, he wanted to know what Arabela and Ilisa had discussed. With that information, he might be able to prompt a conversation that would force the attempted murderer to give himself away.

Might.

Yet as he neared the stables, the urge to return to Ilisa’s side overcame his desire to speak with Arabela. He needed to make certain his wife was well. He changed his direction to the outer bailey. Most everyone was out on the list, practicing for the joust. He strode to the tent, relieved to see Alec standing guard at the entrance.

“All is well?” he asked.

“Aye. She woke briefly.” The relief in his eyes warmed Braden. “We didn’t have a chance to speak much as Lady Arabela has called upon her.” He tipped his head toward the tent.

The news surprised Braden but made him feel better as well. He was pleased the lady with whom Ilisa had last spoken had taken the time to find out how she fared. Though tempted to join them, he decided to give them a few more moments. Mayhap Arabela would be shocked enough at the “accident” to reveal something of interest. Mayhap something good would come from Ilisa’s brush with death, though the price was too high.