‘It’s not for you to express an opinion on the matter.’ Flidais rose abruptly to her feet; Mhairi caught the embroidery as it fell from her lap. ‘Tend to the grooms and kitchen folk and gardeners, of course, if they want you. As for the headaches, I need no remedy. They will pass.’

For a moment, looking at her, I wondered if she could possibly be with child. Some women did suffer headaches in the early stages; could that be the cause? But no. A high-born lady, young, unwed and always surrounded by serving women – it could hardly be so. I could not for the life of me imagine Prince Oran, that poetic dreamer, anticipating his wedding night. And if Flidais had been despatched from home already pregnant, which would have provided the prince with the perfect justification for cancelling his wedding, she would by now have been showing.

‘If my offer of help offended you in some way, Lady Flidais, I am sorry.’ The words stuck in my craw, but I got them out. There was indeed something very odd going on here. Why would she refuse the only help on offer? Maybe, many years ago, her old nurse had been poisoned by a wise woman’s remedy gone wrong. I looked around the chamber, where most of the women were again industriously bent over their work, no doubt wishing the awkward conversation was over. ‘Of course, anyone in the household is welcome to consult me if they wish, or not to do so. I do not pretend to have the answer to every question, or to be able to effect a complete cure for every ailment. But folk will tell you I do a good enough job.’

‘That is indeed so,’ said Fíona, after a nervous glance at Lady Flidais. ‘I’ve heard nothing but praise for your efforts in the district, Mistress Blackthorn. Folk are very pleased you’ve come to settle at Winterfalls.’

‘Thank you. That is most kind. And while we’re speaking of efforts, I have a visit to make this morning to an old man with a wheezy chest. So I will excuse myself, Lady Sochla, Lady Flidais.’ I capped my ink pot, wiped my pen, closed my book. As I left the chamber, I thought that if matters progressed at this snail-like pace, I had no chance at all of solving the prince’s mystery before he was wed. Maybe Grim was having better luck.

28 Grim

28

~GRIM~

Isn’t so bad when I can put in a good day’s work on the house. Easier to get through supper and the time after. I can think, job well done, things moving along all right. Doesn’t help much with the nights. One thing I know, Prince Oran won’t be wanting me in his men’s quarters babbling away half the night and keeping them all awake.