the hills and not in some snug and dry inn?
‘Should I run to the village for the doctor?’ Davina asked.
Davina go alone to the village? Mairi hated it when Davina walked alone to the village, although no one but she knew to worry about it. On the other hand, she certainly did not wish to leave Davina alone with this strange man. Mairi trembled at the thought.
And at the memory of when she’d encountered a stranger while alone, a man who’d also been full of drink. Mairi did not want to be alone with another stranger.
But this man was obviously very sick. How would she feel if he died for lack of a doctor’s care? Her heart pounded.
What if the man died before help arrived? And what if Mairi left Davina alone to care for him? Davina was too young for such a burden.
‘Yes.’ Mairi nodded. ‘Excellent idea. I will stay here and wait for Niven to come with the wagon. We will meet you back at the house.’
‘I will run like the wind,’ Davina said dramatically.
Mairi watched her run down the hill where she’d meet the road and still have another three miles to go until she reached the village.
Mairi sat on the still-damp grass next to the man. ‘At least you are no threat to me,’ she murmured.
His eyes opened again and he suddenly lurched forward, seizing her by the shoulders.
She shrieked.
‘My brother,’ he rasped, his eyes wild. ‘Bradleigh.’
He tried to stand and she scrambled away from his grasp.
He staggered, touching the stone to steady himself. He looked around, staring in her direction, but she had the notion he did not see her. He was somewhere else in his delirium.
‘Must find Bradleigh,’ he said again.
Mairi could not breathe.
He took a step towards her, but swayed and reached for the stone again. ‘Must... Bradleigh...’ He slid down the stone, insensible once more.
Mairi sat with her hands pressed against her face. He didn’t move.
Was he dead? She was not so heartless that she wanted him dead. But she was still afraid of him. She remembered a man’s fingers around her neck, forcing her to the ground...
She made herself stare at the stranger until she could see his chest rise and fall. He was still alive. She approached him once more and manoeuvred him so that the stone shaded him from the sun. Then she sat on the ground again.
At a safe distance.
* * *
The shade of the stone lengthened as Mairi waited for Niven to return with the wagon. After what must have been more than two hours, she finally heard the horse’s hooves and the creak of the wagon wheels. There was only MacKay, the elderly stableman, to help, and the three of them had a struggle to get the man in the wagon.
* * *
By the time they reached the house, Davina was already there. ‘I left word for the doctor. He was out.’
He was the only doctor for three villages. It could be hours or days before he’d come.
‘Did you tell Mama and Papa about the man?’ Mairi asked.
‘No,’ Davina answered. ‘They have not returned from calling on Laird and Lady Buchan, Mrs Cross said.’
It was a wonder Mrs Cross, the housekeeper, knew the whereabouts of their parents. With only maids Betsy and Agnes to tend to the whole house, she spent a great deal of her time working along with them, cleaning and polishing and cleaning some more.
‘We can tell Mama and Papa later,’ Mairi told them.
Niven jumped down from the wagon box. ‘What now? Where do we put him?’
Mairi climbed out more carefully. She certainly was not going to place him in a guest room. ‘In the butler’s room.’ Their butler had left the family’s employ over a month ago.
One of their two remaining footmen helped carry the man into the house and into the butler’s room, far enough from the rest of the house not to give their parents any bother. Mairi would wait until dinner to tell them of the stranger.
‘We must get him out of his wet clothes.’ Mairi looked from Niven to the footman. Both avoided her gaze. She put her hands on her hips. ‘You two must do it. You cannot expect me to. Or Davina. We will find some dry clothes for him.’
‘Oh, very well,’ Niven grumbled.
Mairi left the room and closed the door behind her.
Mrs Cross charged down the hallway. ‘What is this, Miss Mairi?’
‘Davina and Niven found a stranger at the standing stones. He is feverish. We could not leave him.’ Though she dearly wished they could have.
‘We cannot care for a sick man,’ Mrs Cross protested. ‘We are barely able to do the work that needs to be done as it is. What if he makes us all sick?’ She sounded at the end of her tether.
‘You and the maids will not have to go near him,’ Davina piped up. ‘We will take care of him.’
Mairi swung to her. ‘Not you, Davina. You must not.’
‘Why not?’ her sister huffed.
Because he could be dangerous, she wanted to say.
‘Because you are too young,’ she said instead. ‘And it isn’t proper.’
Mairi would have to take charge of him. Her insides turned to stone at the thought.
* * *
That night at dinner, Mairi told her parents about the sick man in their butler’s room.
Davina piped up, ‘We were being Good Samaritans, were we not, Mama?’
Their mother smiled indulgently. ‘Very Good Samaritans, Davina. Of course we must care for the poor man. I hope you told Mrs Cross to care for him as if he were a member of the family,’ her mother added.
‘I spoke to Mrs Cross about the man’s care, yes,’ Mairi responded.
She shot warning glances to Davina and Niven to say no more about it. Her mother and father would be thrown into a tizzy if they knew Mrs Cross could not handle one additional task. And her parents could so easily be thrown into a tizzy, like when Mairi tried to talk to them about economising, or suggest they sell something to at least pay the servants. Surely selling just one of her mother’s necklaces could pay the servants and perhaps hire new ones.
* * *
Later that night, when she was certain that her mother and father had retired, Mairi crossed the hall to Niven’s room.
‘Come
