Castles, Kilts and Caresses

by Carmen Caine

  Gyllis winced when she reached for the flagon.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  “’Tis nothing.” She wasn’t about to complain about her bleeding hands—not with Sean teetering on the brink of death. She held the flagon to his lips. “You mustn’t drink too much, else your stomach might reject it.”

  He sipped without sputtering this time. “I’ll be right.”

  She stoppered the flagon and picked up the rock. “Are you ready for me to give it another go?”

  “Aye. Aim for the top of the loop. Any padlock will not withstand a direct blow.”

  She eyed the lock. “How did you know that?”

  “I learned a thing or two serving in your father’s enforcers.” His voice sounded a wee bit better.

  “You must tell me more soon.” She raised the stone. “Where it bends, you say?”

  “Hit it square.”

  Gyllis held her breath and smashed the rock downward. She let out a frustrated groan. “Damn this bloody thing to hell!” Roaring at the top of her lungs, she raised it over her head then slammed it atop the lock using her strength, her body and all the gut-wrenching fortitude she could muster. With a clang, the piece of metal dropped to the ground.

  Squealing, Gyllis tugged on the grill. Though it was stiff, the hinges gave way with a screech. Sean fell to his knees, wrapping Gyllis in his arms and taking her down with him. “I’ve never been so weak.” His hand covered his eyes. “I’m a bloody mess.”

  “How long has it been since you’ve had food or water?”

  “Three days, I think.” He swayed in her arms.

  She smoothed her hand over his stubbled beard. “My God. ’Tis a wonder you’re alive.”

  He leaned against her—his weight much heavier than she could have imagined. “I cannot believe you found me.” He rocked back on his haunches and averted his face. “I am hideous.”

  Gyllis clasped his cheeks with the tips of her fingers and offered a trembling smile. “Nay, nay, nay. You are alive.”

  He focused on her eyes with an intense stare. “You are an angel sent from God,” he whispered, his voice dead-level and heartfelt.

  Gyllis gasped, holding back her urge to cry, pulled him close and clung to him for dear life. For the rest of her life she’d be atoning for all the cursing she did in the boat. “No one would listen to me, but Alan’s bitter words replayed in my head over and over.”

  “When he threatened me at Beltane?”

  “Aye, I’ll never forget the hatred in his voice.”

  “Those words have haunted me these past days.” Sean rested his head on her shoulder—as if he needed her. Gyllis’s heart swelled. She’d been needy for so long, to have someone need her made gooseflesh spread across her skin. She ran her hand over his head, never wanting to release him.

  “He’s my brother.”

  She took in a quick inhale of air. “What?”

  “MacCoul.”

  She gently ran a hand over his hair. “I always thought he was a bastard.”

  “He was…is. But he’s my father’s son. My father supported him all along but never revealed his secret.” Sean reached for the flagon, his movement sluggish and awkward.

  Gyllis pulled off the stopper. “So that’s why Alan is so bitter.”

  “Aye.” Sean guzzled the watered wine. “He not only thinks he should be Chieftain of Dunollie, he aims to claim the Lordship of Lorn for himself.”

  “No.” She tensed. “He’s insane.”

  “Insane with hate.” He straightened and grasped her shoulder. “I must stop him.”

  “He’s seized Dunstaffnage Castle. Duncan and the men are trying to attack, but Alan has amassed an army.”

  “I must hurry.”

  “You’re on the ragged edge of death. How can you think about going after him now?”

  Sean sat on his haunches. “With a bit of food and a few tots of whisky I’ll come good.” He pointed to her satchel. “Have you got anything to eat in there?”

  “I’ve some oatcakes, but that’s all.”

  “’Tis a start.”

  She reached for the bag and inclined her head toward the light. The rain had subsided, but droplets splashed down in rapid succession from the cave’s entrance. “Let us move away from the stench.”

  “I’m afraid only a bath will help us there.” He used the wall for balance and chuckled. “My legs are as wobbly as a newborn lamb’s.”

  “I ken how that feels.”

  Both limping, she led him to a flat boulder where they’d be able to sit and she could see him better. When the light illuminated his skin, she clapped a hand over her mouth. “My God, where are your clothes?”

  Sean grimaced. “I’m surprised the bastard left me braies and boots on.”

  She focused on the sores peppering his flesh. “What did he do?”

  “Blacksmith’s rivets bored holes through my skin. He not only wanted me to die, he wanted me to suffer as long as possible.”

  “The fiendish blackguard.”

  “Wheesht, Gyllis. I’ve never heard you use such a vulgar tongue.”

  She rubbed her aching arms. “Apologies. I’m a bit on edge. No one would listen to me about Alan’s curse. Duncan tried to send me back to Kilchurn. Angus swore you were being held in the castle dungeon—not even he would listen to the reasoning of a crippled woman.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “Angus mentioned Kerrera was part of the Dunollie lands. I took a skiff from the pier and refused to stop rowing until I found a cave. If I had to cover every square inch of Kerrera, I would have done it.”

  “My God, you are an amazing woman.” He grasped her hand and kissed it. “You are my very own guardian angel.” He slid his hand to her upper arm. “You rowed all the way from Dunstaffnage without assistance?”

  She closed her eyes as his fingers kneaded her aching muscles. “I do not ken how I did it. If it weren’t for my determination to find you, I would not have been able to continue past Dunollie.”

  His hand stopped. “Why are you wearing breeks?”

  She chuckled and looked down. She’d forgotten about her clothing. Biting her bottom lip, she gave him a sheepish smile. “They’re Duncan’s. I couldn’t very well slip away from Kilchurn in the dead of night dressed like a lass.”

  “You did?” He knitted his brows. “You could have been killed.”

  She reached inside the satchel and pulled out the remaining oatcakes. “You would have done the same for me.”

  “Aye, but I’m a man.”

  “So does that make me any less a person?”

  “No, lass.” He shoved a crunchy cake into his mouth. “You’ve proven that it most certainly does not.”

  Gyllis blew on her palms.

  Sean leaned in and examined them. “Christ almighty, your skin is raw.”

  “I told you I wasn’t about to stop.”

  He hissed. “Bloody hell. I still cannot believe you suffered so much for me.”

  “But I love you.” She blinked back her tears. “I would have moved heaven and hell to save you.”

  He brushed his fingers along her cheek. “I believe you would have.”

  There was nothing Gyllis wanted more than to wrap him in her arms and smother him with kisses, but he was so weak and needed a bath. He’d require more than a few drops of watered wine and a handful of oatcakes. “Lady Meg is at Dunstaffnage. She can tend your wounds.”

  “Dunollie is closer. Jinny will set me to rights and I can gather my weapons and clean clothing.”

  “Weapons? You are not planning to fight…”

  “Bloody oath I am. I’ll not rest until Alan is brought to justice.” He cradled his head in his hands as if it pained him. “If he’d told me he was my brother I would have honored my father’s wishes and given him land and coin, but now there is no turning back for him.”

  “Aye, he must be caught and sent to the gallows, but let Duncan lead the charge.”

  “And li
ck my wounds like a miserable coward?” He tried to stand, but dropped back. “I will not sit idle while other men risk their lives for me.”

  Since he’d taken a wee bit of sustenance, a dangerous fire flickered in Sean’s eyes.

  Gyllis held his stare. She would not lose him. Not ever again. “But first you must promise we’ll go to Dunollie and find your healer. I doubt you could raise your sword at the moment, let alone face Alan.”

  “Agreed. But I will regain my strength. Make no bones about it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  By the time they left the cave on Kerrera, the sun had begun to set. It would be dark before they reached Dunollie. Sean was almost relieved—almost. In no way would he allow Gyllis to row the skiff up the shore. Every fiber in his body ached. His mind was clouded by pain, starvation and thirst. God help him, he’d even swooned a time or two.

  They’d filled the flagon with water from a spring, but his thirst would not be assuaged. His stomach rumbled. A few oatcakes made little impact and his fingers shook. Bloody hell, he could barely propel the boat in the seas, given the storm’s effect and his trembling limbs.

  Gyllis sat on the bench across from him, her eyes filled with adoration, even in his wretchedness. In no way could he fail her. She alone was the source of his motivation to continue on. The fascinating woman had singlehandedly overcome insurmountable odds to come to his rescue. He loved her before, but now his respect for her soared to a new level. He would love her through eternity. That her beauty outshone any lass in Scotland no longer mattered. If she were to turn grey with age on the morrow, he would love her no less.

  When he at last moored the skiff at the embankment, he couldn’t be certain who helped whom more, but somehow they managed to make it up the trail to the keep. The old guard, Cadan, ran to meet them, weapons clanking. “M’laird, you look as if you’ve been to hell and back.”

  Sean smirked. “I have.” With Gyllis under his arm they hobbled toward the stairwell. “Send Jinny up with food and a salve.” He stopped and regarded the guard over his shoulder. “Order a bath. I ride at dawn.”

  “Dawn, m’laird?” The guard stood dumbfounded. “In your condition?”

  “Do as I say,” Sean bellowed. “Make it quick. I cannot bear the stench of my own flesh.”

  Gyllis stumbled on a step, but held on. “I daresay Cadan may be right. ’Tis madness to ride when you’re in such a state.”

  “Do not worry. After a good meal, a bath and a sleep, I’ll be fit.” His thighs burned with every step. Why in God’s name did his chamber have to be on the third floor?

  “We’re nearly there,” Gyllis said as if she’d heard his thoughts. “A meal will help us both I’d reckon.”

  After they pushed through the door, Gyllis didn’t release him until she’d led him to the bed. “You’d best rest here until the healer comes.”

  He sat. “I hate weakness.”

  “As do I.” She set to lighting a candle with the flint. “Now you have an inkling of what it was like to be confined with paralysis for months.”

  It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about it, but her words hit a chord. How unconscionably difficult things must have been for her. Yes, he’d known she was suffering, but had no idea of the depth of that pain…until now. “Come here.” He pulled her into him and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his ear to her breast. Her heart beat a steady rhythm “You are the strongest person I know—stronger than any man. If only I could have an iota of your strength.”

  She cradled his head in her hand. “You do. Can you not see it? If you had not inner strength, you would not have survived in that dank cave with all those lesions on your body.”

  The door opened and Sean swallowed down the lump in his throat. He would have preferred it if Jinny had taken a bit longer. Followed by a serving girl who was carrying a trencher of food, the healer walked to the bed with her medicine basket.

  Sean begrudgingly released Gyllis’s waist while Jinny set her things on the bedside table. “Thanks be to God, you are safe, m’laird.” She glanced sidewise at Gyllis.

  Sean gestured with his hand. “You remember Miss Gyllis Campbell. If it weren’t for her, I would have perished this night in the Kerrera cave.”

  “Kerrera?” Jinny glanced between them. “But everyone thinks Alan MacCoul is holding you in the Dunstaffnage dungeon.”

  “Everyone but me,” Gyllis said, nodding at the matron. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, matron.”

  Jinny remembered her manners and curtsied. “My thanks, miss.” Then her eyes popped when she looked Sean head to toe. “Forgive me for saying so m’laird, but you look as if you’re half dead.”

  “’Tis exactly how I feel.”

  She looked closely at Sean’s lesions and then sniffed. “These have started to fester.”

  Gyllis blew on her palms. “The conditions in the cave were deplorable.”

  Jinny fished in her basket and pulled out a pot. “My salve will fix you up.”

  Sean jolted and hissed as she attacked the first sore. The woman’s bloody ointment stung like a posy of nettles, but it worked—eventually. He clenched his fists and took the rest of her ministrations without any outward display of pain. He wouldn’t be any sort of man showing weakness in front of Gyllis, not after she’d borne so much agony herself.

  Jinny wiped her fingers on a cloth and stoppered her pot. “That ought to see you through to the morrow. Shall I bring up a tonic to help you sleep?”

  “I should be fine with a tot or two of whisky.” He reached for Gyllis’s elbow and held up one of her hands. “The lady’s palms could use a bit of your salve as well.”

  Jinny gasped. “My Lord, what on earth did you do?”

  Gyllis shrugged and blushed. “I rowed a skiff from Dunstaffnage to the southern end of Kerrera.”

  “Blessed be the saints, and you being a noble lassie and all.” She shot a concerned look at Sean. “Why did the men not help her?”

  “They didn’t believe me.” Gyllis cleared her throat. Aye, the lass could speak for herself. “They tried to send me back to Kilchurn.”

  Jinny slipped the cork off the pot and dug in her fingers. “Is that why you’re wearing a pair of men’s breeks?”

  The color in Gyllis’s cheeks deepened. “Aye, matron.” She pursed her lips and glanced at Sean, making it clear she didn’t intend to relate the whole story. Sean figured she ought to because the tale alone proved how strong-willed and determined Gyllis was.

  Cadan pushed through the door, carrying a wooden bath, followed by a pair of stable boys laden with buckets of water.

  “Careful not to slosh on the floor,” Sean said. Normally he wouldn’t pay a rat’s attention to whether they spilled a bit of water or not, but wet floorboards could be slippery for Gyllis.

  Cadan placed the basin in front of the hearth. “Shall I light the fire, m’laird?”

  “Aye, thank you.”

  Jinny frowned. “I suppose I’d best leave the salve here if you intend to wash it off.”

  Sean gave her a wink. “That’s a good lass.”

  She didn’t even try to feign a smile. “Miss Gyllis, you can come with me and we’ll find you a proper bed.”

  Gyllis shot a panicked stare to Sean.

  He stood with his fists on his hips. Heaven help him, he was still weak-kneed and dizzy. “I’ll see Miss Gyllis to the lady’s chamber. I’ve a word to have with her first.”

  By the way she crossed her arms and pursed her lips, Jinny didn’t approve. “Pardon me for saying so, but you both need your rest.”

  Sean gave her his sternest look. “That will be all, Jinny.”

  She ticked up her chin. “Very well, m’laird. Do you require anything else?”

  “I’ve a terrible thirst. Could you send up a ewer of ale?”

  Jinny gestured to the table with the food. “The chambermaid brought one up with the trencher.”

  Sean spotted it and grinned. “That she did.”
/>   “Come, Cadan,” Jinny said. “Let us leave our chieftain to his rest before he succumbs to exhaustion.”

  Sean waited until the door closed behind the servants. God he was tired, but he could smell Gyllis’s allure from across the room. His mouth watered. He wasn’t sure if it was hunger for her or hunger for food, but when his stomach growled he chose the latter. For now. “I ken I need a bath, but that food looks too good to pass by. If I do not get a good meal in my belly soon, I fear my strength will never return.”

  “Agreed, I’m famished.” She looked at the door and twisted her mouth. “Your healer must think me a harlot.”

  “Do not worry about Jinny. I shall ensure her priorities are set straight at my next opportunity.” Sean lumbered to the table and held the chair for Gyllis.

  “My thanks, but I should be holding the chair for you. Jinny was right when she said you looked like you were on death’s door. I’ve never seen anyone so pale.”

  Sean slid into the chair across from her, suddenly feeling twice his age, perhaps even thrice. He reached for a slice of roast lamb and shoved it in his mouth. “I’ll be fit once I have something substantial in my belly.”

  She picked up the ewer and served his tankard first. “I’m sure food will help.” She poured for herself. “But so will rest.”

  He raised his ale. “Then ’tis settled. We shall eat, bathe and then rest.” He glanced at the bed, certain his idea of rest did not meet with Gyllis’s, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

  “We shall eat, but you will bathe, not I.”

  “Only me?” He popped a grape in his mouth. The food must be helping because he grew more amorous by the moment. He inhaled deeply. “What the devil fragrance are you wearing? It’s making the pulse thrum beneath my skin.”

  Her tongue shot out and she licked those delectable, pouty lips. “You must be mistaken. I’ve not applied a fragrance, especially dressed in men’s clothing.”

  He reached across and ran his finger over the back of her hand. “Then it must be entirely your allure, m’lady.”

  She smiled, her dimples dipping into a lovely blush. “I should leave you to your bath. ’Tis not proper for me to remain in your chamber—especially when the servants are aware of my presence.”