Gwen was a little, or maybe a lot, lost with what Lady Madelyn was saying. Warmed by the fire, feeling cared for as Lady Madelyn continued to fuss over her, and of course still affected by painkillers, Gwen continued to listen in silence as Lady Madelyn went on. “I chided myself for my skepticism when I awoke yesterday. The day was as beautiful as a day could be, and Greylen’s anger that he’d been a fool was more than painful to watch. Isabelle was the only one who seemed sure that the storm would come.

“Forgive my tone, Isabelle,” Lady Madelyn offered in apology. “Gwendolyn, I’ll check on you later. I did not realize you hadn’t eaten yet. Perhaps after you’ve rested again, we’ll call for a bath.”

Gwen smiled, grateful that Lady Madelyn’s tone had changed. “Thank you, Lady Madelyn. I would love a bath, but I think I’ve rested enough.”

“Anna will see that you drink a tea infusion. ’Twill tire you, and I insist you rest after your meal.”

“May I ask you a question, Lady Madelyn?”

“Of course.”

“Greylen said you were a healer. Are doctors in the Highlands referred to as healers?”

“Nay, we have doctors. But as long as you’re in my care, I’d not let them near you.”

“Is that why Greylen didn’t take me to the hospital?” she asked. “Because you don’t trust the physicians here?”

“I can assure you, you’ve received the very best care.”

Gwen quickly agreed and thanked her as well. She could tell all of her abrasions were perfectly anointed and wrapped, and though somewhat numb from the medication she’d been given earlier, she knew instinctively she had stitches that were even and tight with no signs of swelling or drainage.

True to Lady Madelyn’s words, Gwen was asleep a short time later.

For the second time in less than a day, Greylen tread upon unsure waters. Quite simply, the woman disarmed him. One minute she’s threatening to kick his backside, the next she’s insulting herself—with an audience. She’d turned him upside down in a matter of hours. Especially her comments regarding her need to contact “Sara” and “the inn.”

His reluctance to leave her surprised him as well. He, in fact, stayed longer than necessary, content merely to hold her hand. A hand he’d spent at least an hour embracing. ’Twas only when Anna came into his chamber that he’d finally stepped from the bed.

Hoping for a distraction, a much-needed distraction, he went to check on Duncan. He’d been training a new group of soldiers who proved challenging. Their first charge with the boys who came to foster was to unlearn them of the skills they already possessed. The task usually took no more than a fortnight and allowed each a new perspective in applying their technique. Greylen and his men explained repeatedly that if they believed in their own abilities, their proficiencies would naturally follow. This balance enabled his soldiers to become the best fighters in the Highlands.