Still, it touched her. It gave her hope. Maybe he had thought about her as much as she had thought about him since they parted. Maybe he would be happy to see her and receive her apology. Perhaps they could think of some solution where she could help him out in some way to ease his burden. Unfortunately, there was Lord Darling to consider.
Even so, once she left the shores of the mainland, the threat of Lord Darling seemed to shrink from view just as the outline of the Fort and all she could think about was seeing Angus again and what it would mean. She felt deeply that once she laid eyes on him, her heart would tell her the truth. If she loved him, then she would know. If it was only a passing fancy, then her heart would tell her. She had to know. Even if she was going to be married off to a stranger soon, she had to know whether or not she had been capable of real love.
It was a briefer trip than she’d expected, for she had been lost to time in her own daydreams when they arrived at the Isle of Mull. Liam jumped out and helped the women to step gingerly on the stones. They watched as he pulled the boat into the shore, and then he led them to the castle. Charlotte wanted to run, but she kept her pace with Elizabeth.
When they finally entered the front door of the castle, Mrs. MacLean came out and threw her arms around Charlotte. “Och, I’m sorry for my forwardness, Mistress, but I am so afraid! I am so glad ye’ve come!” There were tears in her eyes, and with affection, Charlotte hugged her back.
She swallowed, trying to hold back the tears. She needed to be strong to do the tasks ahead. “I will do what I can for him, Mrs. MacLean. You know the herbs to boil for fever. Will you do so for me?”
“I tried many times, but it would not bring it down.”
Charlotte nodded. “I know. But please do so. And bring the coldest water that you can find. But first, this is Elizabeth Darling. She is my friend and wished to accompany me.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Let me assist you, Mrs. MacLean, in whatever you need.” Charlotte was touched by the generosity. She even noticed Liam lifting his eyebrows in surprise.
The women left, and Liam said in a low voice, “Come, lass. I will show ye his chamber.”
She followed after him, wishing he would quicken his steps so that she could get there sooner. In a few minutes, they arrived at the door, and Charlotte thought with a smirk, what Angus would think about her entering his bedchamber without warning.
Liam pushed open the door and allowed her entry. She entered softly, and when she saw the state of Angus upon the bed, she nearly fainted.
Chapter Eighteen
She knew she needed to remain strong. She ran to his side. Liam stood at the doorway for a moment, watching the scene before him. Then he left quietly, closing the door behind him. Charlotte watched as Angus writhed before her, sweat on his bare chest and face. His face was taut with pain. She could tell he wasn’t aware of where he was or what he was doing. She placed a hand on his head and felt the burning heat. Her stomach tightened with fear. If she didn’t act now, she would lose Angus.
Tears pricked painfully at her eyes. Having laid her eyes upon him once again, and compounded by the fact that he was close to death, she knew. Her heart had swelled in compassion and desire for him. She loved Angus MacLean. She cared whether he lived or died. She wanted to make him happy. It mattered to her deeply, and she knew that if he got well again, she would have to tell him. She didn’t know if he felt the same way about her, but she had to try, even if it could never be.
Angus called out her name suddenly and opened his eyes for a brief moment. He began to speak, and Charlotte placed her fingers lightly on his lips. It was an impulse to make an intimate gesture. She felt the soft skin of his lips and lingered for a moment. Then she said, “Be still, Angus. Sleep. I am here.” And with her words, it was as if a spell had been cast over his body. He stopped straining. Blood returned to the knuckles that had been white from gripping the sheets, and the skin of his face smoothed as he sighed into sleep.
Charlotte leaned back in the chair by the bed, watching in wonder at what had happened. She quickly checked his pulse to make sure that it wasn’t that he’d slipped out of life, but it was still there. Faint, but it was moving at a good pace. She sighed. It was like her arrival had done something to him. He had tried to speak to her through his stupor. What had he wanted to say?
She watched him earnestly, waiting for Mrs. MacLean to bring what she needed. Even in a feverish state, Angus was still the most handsome man she had ever seen. She watched his strong chest rise and fall as he slept peacefully. On impulse, she moved closer and touched her hand to his. He didn’t wake, so she got bolder and moved her own hand inside, savoring the feel of his skin on hers.
She was interrupted in her quiet moment of pleasure by the arrival of Mrs. MacLean and Elizabeth, their arms full. Mrs. MacLean hadn’t seen anything, but she noticed Elizabeth smile a little at the sight of Charlotte’s hand in Angus’ before she hurriedly took it out. They set everything down on a table nearby, and Charlotte took up a cloth to place in the cold water. “Thank you, Mrs. MacLean and Elizabeth. I will see if this cold compress can’t bring down the fever. She moved to the bed and gingerly placed the cloth on his head so as not to wake him. Mrs. MacLean moved to Angus’ side, and her mouth dropped open in surprise and joy.
“Mistress! Look at what a change ye’ve wrought on him already! He sleeps! And peacefully!”
Charlotte smiled. “Yes, I was surprised as well. He tried to speak to me, but I simply told him to sleep, and he did so. I am very pleased with this turn of events. So, we will not wake him right now to try to give him the boiled herbs.”
Mrs. MacLean nodded, and Elizabeth said, “Tractable man. Listens to you when you command him.”
Charlotte blushed a little but chuckled. “Well, you must meet him when he awakes. I do not think you will say so after that. He will surely be back to his old, blustering self, commanding others to do his bidding.” She looked back on Angus with affection.
Mrs. MacLean added, “Nae, lass. Ye could tell that man anything, and he would do it. He may gripe and bluster like an angry goat, but he wouldnae go against something if ye wished it.”
“Do you mean anyone could tell him or Charlotte could tell him?” Elizabeth asked, a devilish grin on her face.
“The Mistress, I mean,” Mrs. MacLean replied with a smirk.
Charlotte thought back to when she’d asked him to keep the secret about the near-rape from Calum and Julia. He had done so as far as she knew. He had griped, just as Mrs. MacLean said, but he had followed her instructions.
Mrs. MacLean laid a soft hand on Charlotte’s arm. “I hope ye will nae think me impertinent, Mistress, but I know the lad cares for ye. I have seen him grow up in this castle. Nae woman has turned his head as ye have done. He was a broken mess after ye left, sulking and rude tae everyone. ‘Tis nae like him tae act such. I just hope that he will pull through so that he has a chance tae tell ye himself.”
Charlotte watched the older woman’s face in surprise. She was not offended, far from it. She swallowed, trying to keep back the tears of happiness if this was true. “I don’t know, Mrs. MacLean, but I do think he will pull through to see another day. But I can’t imagine Angus MacLean spewing out words of love.”
Mrs. MacLean’s eyes crinkled in merriment at Charlotte’s joke. “Nae, yer right. So, ye will have tae watch for it closely. He will show ye in what he does. Men like that always do. They think they are strong enough tae hide their feelings, but we women can find them out.”
Mrs. MacLean took her leave, patting Angus’ arm lightly before leaving. “Oh, Mrs. MacLean? I think he should eat some of the foods that have been given to the villagers as well. Would you be able to get some of them prepared for when he awakes?”
“Of course, my dear. We shall wait for a few hours.”
Mrs. MacLean left, and Elizabeth and Charlotte were alone with a soundly sleeping Angus. Elizabeth found a nearby chair and sat, sighing with satisfaction. “So, it appears t
hat I was right, Charlotte. You do love him. I can see it all over your face. You’re practically glowing.”
Charlotte looked down at Angus with affection. “I fear you’re right, Elizabeth.” But then her expression turned grim. “But it can never be. For I would never be allowed to marry a Scottish man, and we do not know how he feels, of course.”
Elizabeth reached across and took hold of Charlotte’s hand. “Certainly, your father would understand if you both love each other. And he is a wealthy landowner’s brother. You would not be paupers.”
Charlotte looked down. “I know, but my father told me that your father was helping him find me a match, and they have found one already. I should be married within a few weeks if they get their way.”
* * *
Mortimer Darling had ridden hard that morning and was soon to arrive at Campbell Castle. He had never met any of them in person, but he had sent word of his arrival, and he hoped that they would be amenable to speak with him. He had not found out who had been on trial for the death of his brother, for General Andrews had destroyed the records, thinking it unnecessary to keep the information.
The general hadn’t shared who the culprit had been or any reason why his brother had left, not that Mortimer had asked him directly. He needed to go about these matters delicately. Everyone else had put the matter behind them, and it would seem strange if he began asking questions.
He was certain that it was a MacLean man. He had heard from some of the men that there had been a little unpleasantness a few months before at Duart Castle, something to do with the General’s niece. And that was where his brother, General George Whitehead, had died. Of that, he was certain.
His horse slowed as he neared the entrance to the large castle. It had been a few hours ride, but it was worth it. He would find out everything he needed to know. He jumped down and straightened his coat, keeping his shoulders straight. One of the clan guards came to him and said, “Aye, Sir, what is yer business here?”
Mortimer used his coldest voice. “I wish tae meet with yer laird, Archibald Campbell. Please alert him of my arrival.”
The man shrugged and said, “Stay here.” He whispered to another man who went inside, and Mortimer stood by the gate, his hands behind his back while his horse was led away to the stables. The clansman moved back to his position, ignoring Mortimer as they waited.
Mortimer thought about what he wanted to say and what he could offer the Campbells if they could give him information and do what he asked. He couldn’t offer Charlotte, who would be safely married within a couple of weeks. He didn’t want to offer Elizabeth, for he needed her as his companion for the time being. He would marry her quietly to another friend when the time came. That way, he could keep an eye on her.
But, he could offer protection during any upcoming battles between the English and the Scottish. Ah yes, that’s what he would do. The door opened once more, and Mortimer was waved inside. How crass, he thought.
He entered into a large, dank stone Hall. It was dark and not very well-kept. They were brutes indeed and did not seem to care whether or not they lived in squalor. But the paintings and weapons on the wall, as well as the coat of arms, hung proudly, despite the rather meager surroundings.
A round-bellied, bearded man blundered through to the Hall, his large voice bellowing out, echoing against the walls. “So, what do I owe the pleasure of having a strange Englishman come tae me castle?”
Mortimer bowed with proper regard for the laird’s position. “Hello, Sir, Laird Campbell, I presume? I am here on business and wish to gain a bit of information.”
“Aye? I cannae say we’ve done business since that bastard General Whiteman died and left us in peace without his swindling.”
Mortimer froze. His muscles tensed with anger. But he had to control himself. He could not rail his anger against the man he wished to help him. “I hope that you will find me much more pleasant company to work with. Is there a place we can meet?”
Archibald eyed him crudely, turning his head to assess him. His eyes betrayed his lack of intelligence and brashness. His large belly made him seem that he had used his body in the past to enforce his will, but now it had fallen into sad neglect. Mortimer was strengthened by this. He could deal with an idiot, especially one who made rash decisions. Rashness was its own kind of stupidity. He had dealt with many before him, and this time should be no different. Mortimer smiled.
Archibald grunted and waved him towards a side passage. “Come. I shall ask me brother, John, tae join us as well. He is the one that handles the business.” Archibald bellowed to a servant to find John and send him in. Mortimer followed dutifully behind, the picture of grace and manners.
Once they were inside the meeting room, Archibald didn’t ask but simply placed a glass of whiskey in front of Mortimer. Mortimer shriveled up his nose and pushed it ever so slightly away. He was not the type of fool to imbibe dulling alcohol right before he entered into a business meeting. He needed his mind sharp.
“So what is it ye want tae discuss?” Archibald sat gruffly into an armchair by the fire. Before Mortimer spoke, a man he presumed to be John entered the room. He eyed the two of them and then sat down in another chair. Mortimer’s eyes narrowed. Damn. This man’s eyes were definitely of the intelligent kind, even if they did belong to a Highlander.
John was tall, muscular, and much younger than his elder brother. Archibald said, “This is John. He handles all affairs outside of the castle.” He took a loud sip of his whiskey, and Mortimer took that as a sign that he should begin.
“Well, I have been assigned by the King to work as an assistant to General Andrews. You know him, I assume, stationed at Fort William?”
John’s eyes flashed for a moment, but then his expression calmed. Archibald nodded. “Aye, we know him. A better man than that Whiteman.”
“That’s what I wish to speak to you about. Word has reached the King that there was some skirmish on the MacLean Isle, and the General died mysteriously. Would you happen to know what happened? That was before I came to Scotland, of course.”
Archibald pursed his lips in dumb thought. “I dinnae know why ye’d want tae know about that. ‘Twas insignificant.”
A line of heat burned through Mortimer’s brain. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take of the prattling of this stupid man. He coughed and made his voice stern, glaring pointedly at Archibald. “The King finds it very significant, seeing as there are whispers of war on the wind. He wishes to know whether or not this death has any relation to the rumblings we hear.”
John and Archibald looked at each other briefly. Mortimer pressed on. “What relationship do you have with the MacLeans? Do you have any trade connections with them?”
Archibald laughed, and a drop of whiskey spilled down his chin. “Aye, ye could say that. My brother afore the winter went tae threaten them that we would take their land if they didnae get themselves intae shape. John, ‘tis soon time tae check up on them. I sent a spy there tae see how it goes, and he says that there is more progress than expected. Plus, he was threatened with pain of death if he returned. It appears old Angus found him. We made a deal with Whiteman tae get that land on which he could train his men. For a price, of course.” Archibald continued to chuckle to himself.
Mortimer thought it best he should address his phrases to John instead. “So, perhaps Angus is somehow involved in the skirmish that caused the General’s death?”
John hesitated for a moment when Archibald said, “Aye, ‘twas the MacLean lad. Nasty temper that one.”
Mortimer grinned. Ah, to deal with brutes and idiots. He was one step closer to his revenge.
Chapter Nineteen
After a couple of hours, Charlotte sent Elizabeth with Liam to the Fort. “’Tis best that I do so, Charlotte. Then I can be the one to deliver meals to your room since you are too ill to come to the dining hall. I can keep up the charade. When will you return?”
Charlotte replied, “Thank you, Elizabeth. I will
try to return tomorrow, but I have a plan. I will send my father a letter, telling him that Julia has asked me to go to the Fort to take care of a few matters. I’m sure he would not deprive me of that duty. I will send it by way of Seamus. And you could explain it as if I had recovered and left as soon as possible.”
Elizabeth nodded. “And I will write to you if anything changes. I’m sorry we could not come on happier circumstances. I would very much have liked to see the Isle. But I do wish you all the best with your Highlander.” She smiled down at Angus.
Charlotte blushed. “Thank you. Good journey. Enjoy time alone with Liam.” Charlotte winked, and Elizabeth groaned before leaving the room. “You shall hear of my embarrassment later.”
Mending a Highland Heart: Healing him was more scandalous than she ever imagined… Page 15
