“Lachlan told us we canna be the ones to teach ye,” Lellan guffawed. “He doesnae trust us nae to teach ye the foulest words first.”
“Would you?” Arabella sounded a little too eager, and Lachlan cast her a stunned look. It only made the men laugh harder.
“We shall see, ma lady,” Lellan chortled.
George held the reins to Firelight and his own horse while Taran took Spiorad’s reins along with his horse’s. Lachlan helped Arabella scramble over the rocks, since she needed at least one hand to lift her skirts out of the way.
“I envy ye yer plaids,” Arabella grumbled as she clutched bunches of fabric in her hands before leaping from one boulder to another. The men chuckled while Lachlan explained some benefits of the breacan feile that she hadn’t realized. He described how he could pull the great plaid’s extra length of wool over his head and shoulders if the weather was foul. He explained how getting the wool damp before it rained or snowed helped to keep him dryer. Arabella had never understood why the great plaid, or breacan feile, was so long. It made sense to her now as she considered how much of Lachlan’s life must have been spent outdoors. He’d spent the better part of the past two months on horseback.
“Dinna fash, mo chridhe,” Lachlan smiled. “Mama will teach ye to wear an arisaid, and then ye’ll have yer own plaid.”
Arabella nodded but turned her head to whisper, “Can it be one of your plaids?”
Lachlan looked into her earnest face and realized that having one of his plaids, rather than just any Sutherland, meant a great deal to her. “Ye may have aught ye want. But ye could make two arisaids from one of ma plaids. We need to get some more meat on yer bones, lass.”
“I shall ask ye soon enough whether ye think there’s enough meat on these bones,” Arabella playfully huffed as she mimicked his burr. She sucked her lips in and ducked her head when she realized the others heard what she said and were trying not to laugh. Try as she might, she couldn’t contain her own laughter. When she couldn’t smother it, the men felt less guilty about joining in. They were a much lighter-hearted group when they reached the cave.
Thirty-Four
Once Lachlan and Arabella were settled into the cave with waterskins filled from the nearby stream and several rabbits and squirrels for their coming meals, the Sutherland warriors left the couple alone. Arabella didn’t know who stood watch or when they changed, but it reassured her to know that there were others nearby and not all the responsibility fell on Lachlan’s shoulders. She’d remained quiet during the rest of their walk to the cave because a pounding headache had begun behind her eyes. She hoped that water and dim light would help, but she recognized the pain for what it was. The beginning of her withdrawal. Throughout the first night, Arabella alternated sweating and shivering. Lachlan soothed her as best he could, but he was mainly a quiet figure who tended to her as best he could.
As the first night moved into the second day, Arabella ran to the mouth of the cave several times, heaving over and over, but there was little to purge. Her belly cramps and the need to vomit only made her headache worse. She felt herself growing short-tempered, and she longed to have a drink. Her body craved it as much as her mind. She wanted to slip away from the misery she and Lachlan endured. When she wasn’t standing at the cave’s entrance, she huddled near the fire. Lachlan moved around on silent feet or sat near her. When she needed his comfort, he moved closer. When she grew restless and fidgety, he gave her space. Throughout their ordeal, Arabella fought against the tears that threatened. She refused to indulge in self-pity, since she reasoned she had no one but herself to blame for her condition.
It was their third night in the cave, and Arabella woke to find herself sweating profusely. She was certain she smelled whisky. She sniffed, and her mind urged her to investigate. She sat up, finding Lachlan still sleeping next to her. Or at least, pretending to sleep. He’d been gracious about giving her privacy when she needed to relieve herself, as long as she remained where he could see at least the top of her head. He wouldn’t embarrass her by making it known that he was aware she moved around.
She stood and continued to sniff, but no matter where she went, she smelled whisky but found none. She knew that Lachlan had none with him because she’d pulled all the contents from their bags during one of her angry outbursts. As she moved around the cave, she pulled off the extra plaid Lachlan gave her for when she had the chills. With the men out of sight, at least to her, she’d given up and stripped down to her chemise. She tugged at the neckline, feeling as though the light garment was strangling her.
When she’d swept through the entire crave, her frustration grew until she wanted to throw or break something. She tucked her chin and inhaled, trying to calm herself. As she did, she caught the strongest scent of whisky yet. She turned her head from side-to-side as she inhaled. She realized she was what smelled like whisky. She didn’t know if she imagined it or if she was sweating out whatever lingered in her system. She turned back toward the fire, prepared to give up and settle back against Lachlan’s broad frame. She stopped short and released a short, high pitched scream. Lachlan was on his feet and running to her before she stopped. She waved her hands at him as it to tell him to stop.
“Lach, no! They’ll bite you!” Arabella screamed. Lachlan continued to run toward her as she trembled.
“What will?” Lachlan asked as he wrapped his arms around her. Her entire body shook like an autumn leaf waiting to break away from its branch.
“Those.” Arabella pointed to the ground, but there was nothing there but stone and dirt. “The adders. Don’t you see them? You ran through them. How did none bite you?”
Lachlan looked at the ground, then back to Arabella. He knew she was hallucinating. When she tried to pull away and back toward the cave’s mouth, Lachlan walked with her.
“Don’t you see them?” Arabella demanded. But before Lachlan could respond, she writhed and swept her hands over her arms as though she were scraping something off them. “Spiders!”
Arabella pushed at Lachlan’s chest, and he released her. She twisted and twitched like an entranced pagan priestess as she tried to knock the invisible bugs from her arms. She ran her fingers into her hair and shook it as though the infestation would fall from her locks.
“Ants, spiders,” Arabella gasped. “Get them off me. Get them off!”
Lachlan’s attention was on Arabella until he caught a movement from the corner of his eye. George and Lellan stood at the entrance to the cave. Lachlan shook his head and shooed them away. They disappeared just as quickly as they had appeared. Lachlan lifted Arabella into his arms, and despite her flailing, carried her to the stream. He assumed his men were a discreet distance from them and not watching, but he didn’t take the time to investigate. He stripped Arabella’s chemise off her and yanked off her boots. She hadn’t bothered to wear stockings in days. He lifted her again and waded into the brook, boots and plaid still on.
“Shh, Belle,” Lachlan crooned. “We’ll wash them away.”
He eased her into the water until her shoulders were nearly submerged while he held her in a seated position. She splashed water over herself, but she continued to scratch and whimper.
“Lach!” George called from behind him. Lachlan turned his head to see his guard and scowled. George held out his hand. “Take the soap. Let her think ye are washing them away.”
George tossed a bar of soap to Lachlan, and he nodded his thanks. George scrambled out of the water and faded back into the boulders. Lachlan ran the soap over Arabella’s arms and shoulders, watching as she calmed. In the few minutes that had passed since her visions began, she’d scratched deep lines into her arms and neck. He would dress her in a spare leine to keep her from inflicting more harm if the hallucinations continued.
“Tip yer head back, mo ghaol. I’ll wash yer hair,” Lachlan offered. Arabella unexpectedly shoved at Lachlan’s chest so hard that she toppled from his arms with a splash.
“No! Don’t touch me. Don’
t ever touch me. Your fingers. They’re worms. You’re trying to hurt me. Get away, Lach,” Arabella ranted. Lachlan curled his hands into fists, hiding his fingers, and raised them in surrender.
“I’ll stay here, just to be certain you dinna float away,” Lachlan offered. Arabella jerked her head in agreement before dipping below the surface. She came up spluttering and looking around wildly. She stood up unthinkingly, not remembering that Lachlan’s men must be nearby. She glanced around wildly before meeting Lachlan’s eyes.
“Lach? They’re all gone,” she stammered as she stumbled toward him. Lachlan didn’t move. He was prepared to catch her if she tripped, but he didn’t reach for her. She took in his raised fists and shuddered. “They were never really there, were they?”
“Nay, little one. There was naught here or in the cave to hurt ye,” Lachlan whispered.
“I—I thought your—your fingers—I told you to—to go a—away,” Arabella stuttered between sobs. “I p—p—pushed you.” The tears she’d repressed for days became wrenching sobs, but still Lachlan didn’t move. He was uncertain what to do. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, but he feared making her trauma worse. She made the decision for him, when she lurched forward, his chest catching her as she pulled his arms down and around her.
“What’s wrong with me?” She sobbed.
“Naught but drying out from the whisky. I feared ye might start seeing things, but I amnae surprised. I only feared it for how it would upset ye,” Lachlan explained.
“But the things I keep saying. It’s as though my mouth starts moving before my mind knows what it’s going to do. I’m so sorry,” Arabella’s voice trailed off to a whisper.
“I ken, Belle. I ken this isnae easy for ye, and ye are brave to be doing it. This is why I kenned we needed to leave court and why we needed the cave.”
“How did you know?” Arabella leaned back to look at Lachlan. He sighed but smiled gently.
“I’ll tell ye everything, but ye shall grow cold out here. Do ye wish to wash yer hair? Finish bathing if ye wish, then let’s go back to the fire,” Lachlan suggested. Arabella nodded and squatted in the water. She was quick, scrubbing the soap into her hair, then dipping back under the water to wash it out. When she finished her toilette, Lachlan stripped his leine off. When she was done, Lachlan lifted her onto the bank, and she donned his shirt. He used the extra length of plaid to wrap around her as he carried her back to the cave. She held her boots in one hand as the other played with the hair at his nape. Arabella gasped when she noticed George inside their temporary shelter. He stood, stoking the fire.
“Wanted to be sure it was warm enough for ye, ma lady,” George said as he tossed the stick into the fire. He wiped his hands against each other and made to walk to the entrance.
“Thank you,” Arabella stated. She asked Lachlan to put her down before she walked toward George. “Thank you for tending the fire, and thank you for the soap. It didn’t register with me at first, but I ken you brought it and gave it to Lachlan for me. Thank you and my thanks to the others. You are sacrificing a lot for me, and I’ve hardly made it easy. Please know that I appreciate each of you.” Arabella stuck out her hands, and George gently clasped them but shot a glance at Lachlan, who nodded. Arabella squeezed his hands before letting them drop.
“I’ll tell the others, ma lady,” George bowed before hurrying out of the cave.
“Did I make him uncomfortable?” Arabella asked. She wasn’t certain what to make of his responding smile.
“Aye, but ye made him feel good too. George likes the ladies as long as the ladies dinna like to talk aboot feelings. Lellan is a charmer and doesnae listen to aught but nods, so women think he’s sweet on them. Taran is rather brooding and quieten, but from what I’ve heard, women—-” Lachlan put his hands up in front of him as if he didn’t know what to say, but his grin said everything. “Wallace married a woman he’s loved since he was a lad. Took him years to convince her to marry him, but now she’d flay anyone alive who said aught against him.”
Arabella nodded as she walked to the fire. She patted the spot beside her, and Lachlan sat down. She lifted his heavy arm and draped it around her as she burrowed closer. Lachlan kissed her forehead, then her lips. Arabella’s arms wrapped around his waist and neck as she welcomed his affection and passion. When they pulled apart, Arabella rested her head against Lachlan’s chest. The rumble when he began speaking soothed her.
“Ye asked how I ken. There is much Da has taught me over the years kenning one day I will be laird. He’s told me a great deal aboot people’s different natures. He’s told me signs to look for, both the ones I can see and the ones I canna. He told me aboot how his older brothers and father used to drink too much. Da explained some of the reasons why people turn to whisky, and he told me what his brothers and father were like when they were drunk. They werenae always violent toward Aunt Kyla, but they were cruel with the things they said. According to Da, half the time they couldnae remember what they said, and the other half they pretended to be repentant. We’ve had people from time to time in the clan who drink too much. Mostly men. And they mostly pick fights with other men. A few have made the error of turning their fists on women. Da doesnae tolerate any of that. He saw what his father did to Aunt Kyla, and he has never stopped blaming himself for nae intervening. Now, he intervenes on behalf of any woman in our clan who is mistreated or receives threats of mistreatment. Few men make that mistake, and those who do, only do it once.”
Arabella nodded as she listened. She’d met Hamish Sutherland several times over the years, and as she became better friends with Lachlan’s sisters and fell more in love with him, she often envied the two sisters and brother the relationship they had with Hamish. She wished he were her father. What she knew of their mother Amelia made her want to become part of their family, if for no other reason than to have two loving and kind parents. Her own mother wasn’t as sharp-tongued and belligerent as her father; instead, she was indifferent. As Arabella grew older, her mother only took an interest in dressing her up and parading her around like a doll. She could still hear her mother’s words in her head. Well-brought up young ladies have poise and grace. Only the uncouth act like peasants, or worse, Highlanders. Arabella shifted her attention back to Lachlan after he paused to kiss her forehead again.
“Wallace told us aboot how his uncle handled coming off the drink. He’s explained more to me while ye’ve been sleeping. He warned me that ye might see things, even hear things. He warned me nae to believe things ye say in anger because ye arenae yerself. The need for whisky takes over yer mind and yer body, makes ye do things ye never would. It messes with yer heid,” Lachlan explained, tapping his temple.
“Did Wallace’s uncle survive? Did he stop drinking?” Arabella wondered.
“Aye. Apparently, this happened when we were lads, but Wallace says he remembers it vividly. His uncle stayed with them while Wallace’s mother tended to him because she’s his sister. Wallace said his father nearly murdered him after his uncle swung at Wallace’s mother while seeing visions. It was only his mother’s threat to leave him that made Wallace’s father back down.” Lachlan shook his head as he wiped the silent tears from Arabella’s cheeks. He knew she was riddled with guilt and remorse. “I ken Wallace’s uncle as the mon who taught me how to care for ma horse. He’s the stable master and has a way with animals I’ve never seen the like of.”
“Lach, even if you kenned what to expect, I still feel horrible for the things I’ve said. I’m sorry I’m putting you through this. I never imagined when I started sneaking a sip here and there that it would ever get so bad.”
“This wouldnae have been pleasant regardless, but Beathan’s mistreating ye made this far worse. We’re lucky he didna poison ye with all that alcohol.”
“Thank you for still loving me,” Arabella gazed into the brown eyes that she adored. “Do you ken, your eyes are the same color as aged whisky? I think I will be very happy to look into your eyes any time I th
ink of it. I prefer you to it, anyway.”
Lachlan’s gentle touch trailed along her temple and past her ear until his fingers slipped around her nape. Their kiss was languid as they indulged in their first chance for intimacy since they left Comrie Castle. Arabella had been too unwell for either of them to think about making love.
“You said I can tell you anytime I wish for us to join,” Arabella murmured, and Lachlan nodded. “I would very much like to do that right now. Can we?”
Lachlan’s soft chuckle blew his warm breath against her ear, making her shiver. “Ye dinna have to ask, mo ghaol. Ye should tell me. Do ye remember I said I expect a demanding wife?”
Arabella laid back until her back and head were on the ground. As she reclined, she curled her finger in a beckoning motion. He followed her down, pushing his leine high up her thigh as Arabella lifted his plaid. Lachlan’s hand glided over the satiny skin of her outer thigh as she bent her leg.
“I want to see you. All of you,” Arabella said with command, but her smile made it difficult to take her seriously. Lachlan pulled back onto his knees and unbuckled his belt. He teased her as he slowly unraveled his plaid. She stuck her tongue out at him when she grew impatient and stripped off his leine. A glimpse of her naked body made Lachlan forget about taunting her. His plaid landed beside them.
Arabella stared up at him once she laid back again. She’d never imagined a man’s body could be as magnificent as Lachlan’s. She’d always assumed that they would be hairy and coarse all over, feeling more like the bristles from a man’s beard. Lachlan’s body was smooth, each muscle showing as he kneeled above her and raked his eyes over her. When he moved, the muscles bunched and rippled, showing his strength and belying the gentleness he used. Arabella knew his greater size and strength could crush her, and yet he handled her as though she were more precious than gold. His gaze now was reverent as his fingers trailed between her breasts until his palm swept over her belly. It slid back up her ribs until he cupped her breast. He lowered himself to take her nipple into his mouth. He squeezed gently as he opened his mouth wider, once more devouring her. She’d always been secretly envious of Maude’s ample endowments. She relied on Eliza cinching her kirtle especially tight over her shoulder blades to hold her breasts higher and to make them look fuller. But as Lachlan’s eyes drifted close, and Arabella could see the pleasure he took in lavishing his attention on one then the other, she no longer feared they were too small.
A Beauty at the Highland Court: A Star-Crossed Lovers Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 7) Page 25
