CHAPTER SEVEN“Now try and rest, Your Grace, and, if you can, have a quiet nap,” Jeannie admonished. “I’m taking Master Jamie away to the river and we won’t be back till it’s nearly his bedtime.”
Jeannie spoke in the kind but firm way that Clola remembered her own Nanny speaking and she found herself responding to her as if she was a child.
Jeannie, who had looked after her when Torquil left for Edinburgh, was a middle-aged, sweet-faced woman who had devoted her life to other people’s children. First Torquil, then Jamie had been ‘her baby’.
She fussed over Clola like a mother hen and gradually the poison had gone from Clola’s body and she felt herself coming back to life as if she had been on a long dark journey into the unknown.
“I never trusted that Mistress Forse,” Jeannie said over
