by Carmen Caine
She must have been assertive or half-crazed, because the guard saluted. “Yes, m’lady. Straight away.”
Swiping away her tears, Gyllis hastened back to the bed. “Lady Meg is coming. We must see to this horrible gash on your shoulder.” Her heart fluttered. “You will be fine. I know it.”
There wasn’t much left of his sleeve, so she tore it away and pushed the remaining cloth aside to inspect the wound. It was deep, but she couldn’t see bone. That had to be a good sign.
Meg rushed inside. “I’ve sent Mevan to fetch my basket.”
“His chest heaved and I felt warm air from his nose.”
“Thank heavens.” Meg inspected Sean’s arm. “I’ll need to stitch this straight away.” She grimaced. “But ’tis so deep, he could lose the arm.”
“What’s an arm compared to a life?”
“Let us pray we can save both.” Meg faced her. “Regardless, I’ll need your help. The injuries out there are horrendous. You’ll have to tend him all night—keep a cool cloth on his forehead, spoon willow tea into his mouth. Can you do that?”
“Of course. I will do anything.”
“I’ve your basket, m’lady,” Mevan said from the doorway.
Meg beckoned him. “Bring it here, then go help the others. I’ll head to the hospital tent as soon as I stitch up this wound.”
Mevan set the basket on the bedside table and hissed. “Bloody hell, MacCoul nearly took his arm off.”
“’Tis none too pretty.” Meg fished for a whalebone needle and thread. “Gyllis, you’ll need both hands to hold Sir Sean’s flesh together.”
“I’ll do anything you need.”
“Good.” Meg smiled. “I hope you have a strong stomach.”
Gyllis would have a strong anything if it meant Sean would live. When she moved to Sean’s shoulder, she ignored the pain in her palms and bore down with all her strength, matching the two sides of his skin. She watched Meg’s every stitch until the last one was tied off.
Meg swiped off the blood with a cloth and secured her needle in the basket. “Remember what I said. Keep his forehead cool. Keep the wound doused with avens oil. Have the chambermaid bring you willow bark tea and ale. Keep spooning it into his mouth until he wakes.”
He wakes. Those words were like angel’s bells. “I’ll keep a vigil for a month if I must.”
“If things grow worse, send someone to fetch me.” She put the basket over her arm. “I fear this will be a long night for us all.”
***
As she’d promised, Gyllis maintained a vigil at Sean’s side. Blood seeped from his wound, but she saw that as a good sign—God’s own form of cleansing. The past few days had sped past in such a blur. She sat beside him on the bed, allowing herself to doze only for brief moments in between dousing the cloth in cool water. She hummed and talked as she worked—partly for her sake and partly for Sean’s. If he could hear her, she wanted him to know she was there—would always be beside him.
The witching hour must have come because Gyllis’s eyelids refused to stay open. Sleep kept trying to claim her mind. Her head continuously bobbed. She got up and paced the floor, but her toe stubbed repeatedly, making her stumble. Walking, exhaustion and the latent effects of paralysis did not go well together.
She pulled a wooden chair beside the bed and sat, realizing the hour glass had run its course. Once she turned it over, she picked up the tankard with the tea and a spoon. “Time for another tincture, my love.” She ladled a few drops in Sean’s mouth—his lips were still so chapped. “Did I ever tell you about the time Helen and I were spying on you and Sir Eoin MacGregor?”
“Nay,” a raspy voice answered.
She held the spoon completely still, her gaze shooting to Sean’s face. His eyes were still closed. “Nay?” she asked, wondering if her mind was playing tricks.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “N-nay,” he said.
“My goodness, you heard me?”
He nodded slightly.
“Are you in pain?”
“Aye.” His eyes opened a wee bit. “Come here.”
She set down her things and nestled beside him, careful not to disturb his wound. “They thought you were dead, but I wouldn’t believe it.”
A chuckle caught in his throat. “I’m glad you did not.” He licked his lips. “But I’d expect no less from my woman.”
Her heart squeezed. “I’ll take care of you, Sean MacDougall. I shall care for you until I draw my last breath.”
“I’m the one who should be uttering such words of chivalry.” He blinked then widened his eyes. “You have my vow, I will protect you forever. You will always be the keeper of my heart. Never again will I be so foolish as to walk into battle when I ken I am weak. That bastard nearly killed me.”
“Hush.” Gyllis placed her finger to his lips. “You did what you must. Now let us spoon some willow tea in your belly. It will help keep the fever at bay.”
“Nay. All I need is you beside me. A wee bit of sleep and I’ll be right.”
“You’re a rugged man, Sean MacDougall.” She snuggled into him and pulled the bedclothes around their shoulders. “Everything will be better on the morrow.”
***
Her mind was in a fog when the door burst open.
“Heaven help us, you are ruined.” Mother rushed inside, slamming the door behind her.
As soon as Gyllis heard the voice, she bolted upright. “Ma? What are you doing here?” Devil’s bones, she needed about another sennight of sleep.
“You expected me to sit idle when news of a battle arrived at Kilchurn? And I was right to come. Look at you. In bed with a man! If that’s not bad enough, there are armies of people everywhere. You are scandalous!” She clapped a hand to her forehead and paced. “The family will be disgraced. I’ll never find husbands for Marion or Alice. All three of you will be ruined.”
Gyllis glanced downward at her borrowed, ill-fitting kirtle and then across to Sean’s naked chest—he hadn’t awakened with Mother’s tirade. Gyllis shook her head to clear the cobwebs and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “He’s been unconscious most of the night. God’s teeth, Ma, Lady Meg assigned me to his care.”
“Watch your vulgar tongue.” Mother held up a finger. “That didn’t mean you should climb into bed with the man. Who has seen you?”
“N-no one. I stayed awake until I could no longer hold up my head.”
Ma stopped pacing and glared across the room. “I must have Duncan speak to Sir Sean at once.” She walked up to the bed, as if she’d only realized Sean was still sleeping. “The only way to avoid a scandal is for him to propose marriage this day.” She patted his cheek. “Sir Sean?”
He didn’t move.
Gyllis grasped Mother’s arm. “Please, let him rest. He was severely injured—was close to death.” She swallowed her urge to smile and led her mother to the chairs in front of the hearth. Had she honestly used the words propose marriage? “I’ve wanted to talk to you in earnest about Sir Sean for a long time. Perhaps we can have a word whilst he slumbers.”
Mother pursed her lips as if the thought didn’t appeal. With one last glance over her shoulder she relented and sat.
Gyllis leaned her head in and kept her voice low. “Did Helen speak to you?”
“Aye,” Ma whispered.
“So you know Sir Sean visited me…um…frequently when I was at Ardchattan?”
Mother nodded.
“And you are aware we wish to marry?”
“Wheesht.” Ma grasped her hand and squeezed. “For some ridiculous reason, Duncan has never approved of Sir Sean’s affinity for you, so you’d best wipe that smile off your face and play along if I am to have any chance of success.” She violently shook her finger. “This is scandalous,” she raised her voice. “You remained the entire night in this chamber alone with Sir Sean? How could you? Now only Duncan can keep the entire family from ruination!”
Gyllis hid her face in her hands. Evidently Mother had arrived at Dun
staffnage with a well-thought plan of her own.
***
Every inch of his body ached, but Sean forced himself to open his eyes. For some mysterious reason, he could have sworn he’d heard Lady Margaret’s shrill voice shouting about a scandal—and he was the rogue at the bottom of it. He’d been the center of a scandal before, but definitely couldn’t admit to any foul play last eve.
“But Sir Sean could have died had I not been here to tend him,” Gyllis said.
The women were near the hearth. Sean tried to sit up, but unholy stabbing pain stopped him with a bellow. “Bloody hell.”
“Sean,” Gyllis hastened toward the bed. “You’re awake.”
He gritted his teeth, biting back the pain. “Aye, and there’ll be no scandal. Let the old windbags talk. I’ll marry Gyllis this day.”
“Sir Sean.” Lady Margaret rushed to the head of the bed. “I knew you would see reason.” She brushed the hair from his forehead. “If you are to be wed, we must have time to plan.” She held up a finger as if she had everything scripted. “A betrothal will be quiet sufficient. But first you must have words with Lord Duncan.”
The door swung open. “What the blazes are you doing here, Mother?” The Lord of Glenorchy strode inside, hair mussed, shoving his shirt into his breeks.
Once the door closed, the lady marched up to him. “Are you aware your sister spent the entire night with this man?”
Gyllis pattered in behind Ma. “But he was unconscious. Lady Meg told—”
“Enough,” Lady Margaret cut Gyllis off and returned her attention to Duncan. “We have no choice but to insist Sir Sean makes a proposal of marriage to Gyllis this very day, else she and your sisters will be ruined and I shall never find husbands for them all.”
Duncan cast a heated look in Sean’s direction. “Bloody Christmas, Mother. How the devil did you arrive so early? Do not tell me you rode all night.”
“And why ever not? After I received word that my son, my daughter and the mother of my grandchild were embroiled in a battle with a ruthless scourge. Of course I gathered the guard and rode all night.” She jabbed her finger into Duncan’s sternum. “But that is not the issue at hand. You must have words with Sir Sean. There are people mulling about everywhere. News of my daughter’s indiscretion will run rampant.”
“But—”
Mother stretched a bit taller. “I’d be surprised if the rumors haven’t already spread.”
“I do not—”
“Thank the good Lord I arrived when I did. The only way to avoid a scandal is if you accept his proposal of marriage to your sister forthwith.”
Duncan scratched his head. “Are you finished?”
With a satisfied and aristocratic rise of her chin, Lady Margaret took Gyllis by the hand. “Follow me, dear. We must leave the men to talk.” On the way out she shook her finger at Duncan. “I do not want you to leave this chamber until you have come to an agreement.”
Despite the excruciating pain in his shoulder, Sean withheld his urge to laugh. Aside from Lady Meg, Lady Margaret was the only person Sean had ever seen make Duncan eat his words. But he had no illusions that his friend would be in a bear of a mood. Sean eased to his good side and forced himself to sit up.
Duncan faced him and glowered. “You’re the only man I know who could cause a scandal whilst out senseless.”
Sean tried to smile, but his lip split. “Aye, and I didn’t even chance to have any fun.” He winced, Christ, sometimes he didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.
“Bloody damnation and ballocks to that.” At least Duncan didn’t hit him. “You look like shite.”
“Feel like it, too.” He licked the blood from his lip. “You ken I’ve always been in love with Gyllis.”
“Aye, but I’ve fought your affinity for my sister for years.” Duncan sat on the bed beside him. “You’ll have to put an end to your womanizing, else I’ll be forced to tell Ma the girls are ruined.”
“You’d do that?” Sean forced a grin. The lusty laddie moniker had to go. He hated to admit it to Duncan, but it was time to bare his soul. “I haven’t looked at a woman other than Gyllis in over a year. Even after you sent me to the miserable borders, I kept to myself.” God, his head hurt. Everything hurt as if he’d been bludgeoned within an inch of his life. “I love her, Duncan. I would die for her.”
“Even after her paralysis? You ken she may never be graceful—never dance again.”
“Do you think I care? I love Gyllis for the angel she is in her heart.” Sean swiped a hand across his chapped lips. “I’ve loved her since your mother forced us to take part in all those silly dancing lessons, and my love for her grew tenfold after Gyllis, stricken with paralysis, rowed from Dunstaffnage to the southern tip of Kerrera because she remembered a threat Alan MacCoul made months prior—a threat you heard him utter.”
“And yet I didn’t believe her. I, too, can be a dunce at times.” Shaking his head, the corners of Duncan’s mouth turned up. “Very well, I shall agree to your betrothal, but you will not spend another moment alone with my sister until after your vows are sealed.”
Sean held up his palm. “Just allow me a modicum of time.”
Duncan eyed him.
“I’m in no condition to take advantage of the lass—and she needs a proper proposal.”
“Very well.” He held up a finger just like his Ma had done only moments ago. “But keep in mind, I will be right outside.”
When Duncan opened the door, Lady Margaret, Lady Meg and Gyllis all stared up at him as if they were trying to pretend they hadn’t overheard a word. He ushered Gyllis into the chamber. “Sir Sean wants to speak to you for a moment and that is all I will allow.”
When the door closed behind her, Gyllis tiptoed inside with her hands steepled to her lips. “I am sorry all of this had to happen whilst you are in so much pain.”
Sean stood, his legs wobbling beneath him. The past few days had nearly sent him to an early grave.
Gyllis rushed forward and grasped his elbow. “You should still be abed.”
“Mind you, that’s exactly where I’m headed, but there’s one thing I must do first.” Thank God he didn’t fall on his face as he went down on bended knee. He took her hand in his palms.
Her wee gasp made his blood thrum anew.
Taking a big inhale he stared at the eyes that had enraptured him since boyhood—the only lips he wanted to kiss, the woman who had grown to mean so much to him. “Gyllis Marietta Campbell, you have shown me courage beyond that of any man I know. You have shown me perseverance to rival the greatest of men, and you are the dearest and most stunning creature I have ever seen. I love you more passionately than life itself…You have claimed my heart. Will you do me the honor of agreeing to be my wife?”
By the time he’d finished the brief proclamation of his undying love, a tear spilled from Gyllis’s eye and splashed on the back of his hand. Keeping her palm in his grasp, he first kissed her salty tear, then turned her hand and pressed his lips against it.
“Aye,” she whispered. “I will marry you, Sir Sean MacDougall.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
After Sean’s proposal, they had decided to hold the wedding at Kilbride Church on Dunollie lands. In front of the polished copper mirror, Gyllis sat in the chamber where she’d tried to sleep that first night when she’d visited Dunollie—the one where she and Sean couldn’t return to Ardchattan due to the flooding.
Helen straightened Gyllis’s gold veil which was held in place by a circlet encrusted with emeralds. “You make a beautiful bride.”
Gyllis offered a sheepish smile. “If only I could have been at your wedding.”
“It was nice, though not as well attended as yours.” Helen toyed with Gyllis’s collar. “My, Mother must have invited half of Argyllshire.”
“I believe she did.” Gyllis chuckled. “And how is life as the Lady of Ardnamurchan?”
Helen glanced toward the window. “I enjoy running the keep—just as I always
thought I might.”
“And Sir Aleck? Is he treating you well?”
“Aye, I suppose. He’s an unusual man when he’s home. He’s oft away—embroiled in the feud with the MacDonalds.” She reached for a bottle of rose oil sitting atop the sideboard. “He’s as fierce a warrior as I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh my, that is saying something, with Duncan Campbell as our brother and the Highland Enforcers always mulling about Kilchurn Castle.”
Helen dabbed a bit of the oil behind her ear. “True.” There was sadness in her voice.
Gyllis placed a palm on her sister’s arm. “Is he tender with you?”
“Not really.” A wee tear glistened at the corner of Helen’s eye. “If anything he’s gruff. But I needn’t worry overmuch. Thus far, he’s not been around long enough for it to be a bother.”
Gyllis pulled Helen into her arms. It didn’t seem right for her to be so happy when her sister was not.
“Enough of that.” Helen backed away and grasped Gyllis’s shoulders. “We are here to celebrate your marriage to Sir Sean MacDougall this day. At least one of us caught the man of our dreams.”
“And you must know you are welcome at Dunollie at any time with or without your warrior husband.”
“Thank you. One never knows. I may end up on your stoop with a satchel over my shoulder.”
Gyllis dabbed Helen’s eye with a kerchief. “I’m sure things will improve.”
“Aye, Mother said the same. She told me the first year is always the worst. As you recall, hers was an arranged marriage, and things did not start well between her and Da.”
Gyllis chuckled. “I remember the stories well.”
A rap came at the door. “It is time.” Duncan stepped inside. “Are you ready?”
Butterflies flitted in Gyllis’s stomach as she glanced around the room. “I was ready sennights ago.”
***
Sean hadn’t been this nervous when he went before the king on the day of his knighthood. Why he was anxious at all baffled him. He loved Gyllis, and had waited throughout an agonizing month while her mother invited half of Scotland to the wedding feast…but still, he paced in front of the altar.
