The Highland Guardian

by Jarecki, Amy

  About three miles from Durham, they slowed to a posting trot, a gait the horses could sustain for hours. Every time she glanced the earl’s way, his face grew paler as if each jarring step sent a shot of pain straight down his spine.

  Audrey prayed Dunn had a plan.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  It was well past the witching hour when they stopped the horses just outside the village of Jedburgh. Since fleeing Durham, they’d only rested the horses once. Fry had given Gerald the key to Reid’s manacles, which they had removed immediately and buried well off the path in Kielder Forest. Hunched over his horse’s neck and too weak to lift his head, Reid raised his eyebrows high enough to see the outline of Jedburgh Abbey against the moonlit sky.

  “My mount will not make it another mile,” said Gerald.

  Since his rescue, Reid had formed a new respect for the old butler. The man had acted the part of major so flawlessly, even he had almost believed the ruse until he saw Dunn. Why the devil they had allowed Audrey to ride with them had him baffled, but he’d deal with that later. Presently, it was all he could do to keep his arse in the damned saddle. The cold night wind bit his skin, and his teeth had been chattering since dusk.

  “I reckon we all need rest.” Thank God Dunn said it. Reid could have dropped to his death a dozen times since they’d set out. His head throbbed like he’d been hit with an iron hammer, but that was nothing compared to the welts on his back still stinging with the venom of a hundred angry hornets.

  Christ, he’d never been this close to death.

  “We’ll go to the croft to the west,” he barked, the effort making his head spin. “Mr. Laidlaw has never turned us away.”

  “Aye, but we’ve never knocked on his door at three in the morning,” said Dunn.

  “Tell him we’ll pay him double as long as he agrees not to reveal our whereabouts.”

  “I must tend to your wounds,” Audrey said as they headed westward.

  The gentle tenor of her voice startled him. He’d been aware of the lass’s presence during the entire ride, though she’d kept mum for the most part. Nonetheless, her frequent glances of pity galled him. He didn’t want her pity, and he damned well didn’t want her to see him like this, no matter how soothing her ministrations might be. He was a warrior. An earl, for Christ’s sake, a fact the captain had overlooked. Indeed, Fry’s barbarism would cost him his commission and just might cost the man his life.

  Reid forced himself to sit straighter, making stars dart through his vision. “I’ll be right in a day or two. Mark me.”

  “You reckon?” Dunn snorted. “If you ask me, you look like the angel of death is hovering above your head.”

  “Shut it,” Reid growled.

  It took an age to ride the mile to the croft while Reid’s flesh jarred with his mount’s every step. They gathered outside the cottage, the steam from their noses wafting around their heads. After removing his red doublet, Dunn took care of waking Mr. Laidlaw. Once the man appeared in the doorway holding a candle, it wasn’t long before he gaped at Reid. “Good God, m’lord. What happened to you?”

  Reid tried not to grimace. “Met a cat-o’-nine-tails and lost.”

  “Red-coated villains no doubt?”

  “The same,” Dunn replied.

  Mr. Laidlaw gave Audrey and the others wearing uniforms a quizzical once-over. “Why are you riding with bloody dragoons?”

  “A ruse used for surprise,” said Dunn. “We’ll change into proper gear if you’ll grant us use of your stable.”

  “Och, you’d best haste in there and stay. The bastards have been making a habit of riding past morning and night.”

  “My thanks,” Reid said, his lips cracking when he tried to smile.

  “Do you have any bandages we can use?” asked Audrey.

  Reid shot her a frown.

  “I brought a salve for abrasions,” she whispered.

  Didn’t she realize how much it pained him to have her see him bent and broken? If only Dunn would have thought to send her ahead on a transport to Brahan Castle, Mrs. Hobbs and one of the guards could have escorted her northward and the lass would have been spared this hardship. Spared seeing him as a broken man.

  Bless Mr. Laidlaw all the same. He gave Audrey three rolls of bandages, and then they retired to the stable. Reid managed not to cry out with pain as he climbed the ladder to the loft. But once his feet were flat on the floorboards, he took one look through the dim chamber and stumbled face-first into a pile of hay.

  * * *

  Audrey dashed to Reid’s side. “Gerald, light a lamp straightaway. I need a pail of water and a cloth. And someone had best lend His Lordship their blanket. I’ve been listening to his teeth chatter since the sun set.”

  She placed her hand on the earl’s shoulder, feeling his skin was much too warm. “Rest, my lord,” she said for her own reassurance more than anything. “You’ve done nothing but see to my protection, ’tis time now for me to see to yours.” She knew he’d slipped into unconsciousness because he didn’t move, didn’t utter a word of discord. Throughout the journey, he’d done nothing but growl and bark in an attempt to prove his manhood, no doubt.

  As soon as the lard lamp hanging from the rafters was lit, Graham hauled a pail of water from below. He kneeled beside her and handed her a folded piece of linen. “This is the drying cloth from my kit.”

  “Thank you.” She took it and doused it in the water. Her stomach churned as she examined Reid’s injuries. “’Tis such a mess, I cannot tell what is dried blood, what is skin or where the lacerations start and stop.”

  “I reckon he needs a good wash, and it is best you do it afore he wakes.”

  Her hands shook as she wrung out the cloth over Reid’s back.

  Graham grasped her wrist and steadied the trembling. “His Lordship needs you now. I heard what you said, and you are right. ’Tis time you see to his care.”

  Gulping down her revulsion, she nodded. For the first time since they’d met, Reid MacKenzie needed her and she would not fail him. She continued to use the cloth to saturate the earl’s back with water as it ran down his sides in streaks of red. Once she’d emptied the pail, she sent Graham for more as she began the laborious process of wiping away the grime-encrusted blood, trying not to abrade the places where scabs had already started to form.

  While Audrey worked, she recalled how the heiresses at Talcotts had complained when the matron insisted they study the healing arts. Why, Sarah Smithfield had turned up her nose and accused the poor instructor of witchery. The woman replied that understanding how to tend the sick was necessary for everyone, no matter their station in life. Now Audrey knew why and was glad she’d paid attention.

  Reid didn’t rouse once, though his breathing remained irregular with his shivers. After she was satisfied that she’d cleansed the wounds thoroughly, Audrey pulled the jar of salve from her satchel. She spread a thick, even coat over his back, careful to ensure the worst abrasions received a healthy portion. The tincture contained avens to help prevent the wounds from turning putrid, though from the pus she’d wiped away, some lacerations had already begun to fester.

  She held up a bandage roll and bit her lip.

  “Shall I try to rouse him?” asked Graham, who had faithfully remained by her side.

  She returned the bandage to her satchel. “Let him sleep. I’ll wrap him come morn.” After draping the damp cloth over the earl’s back, she pulled a blanket over him. “I wish we’d gone to Durham sooner.”

  “Ye reckon?” asked Dunn, coming up behind them. “Captain Fry was already suspicious when we arrived as early as we did, carrying a missive from the queen. Any earlier and we never would have been successful.”

  Gerald cleared his throat like he was entering the parlor to make an announcement. “Any later, and His Lordship very well could have perished.”

  Audrey’s stomach twisted into a knot. She would have been devastated if that blackguard had killed him. “Why would someone act so vilely, a
nd on the word of a rat like Wagner Tupps?”

  “Some people in Fry’s line of work gain pleasure from releasing their ire on others,” said Dunn.

  “Bastard,” Graham cursed. “Beg your pardon, Miss Kennet.”

  “No apology necessary.” She brushed her hands on her breeches. “His Lordship cannot continue to run like this.”

  Gerald gave a solemn nod. “I agree.”

  “One more day of hard riding,” said Dunn in a tone that indicated he wouldn’t entertain an argument. “We’re halfway to Edinburgh. Seaforth keeps a town house near the Grassmarket.”

  Audrey pursed her lips. “Will that not be the first place the government troops look?”

  “Most likely, but I’m not planning to tarry. We’ll use it as a base long enough for men to arrange transport.”

  “You mean to sail?”

  “Aye. A sea galley will be faster than riding and will be easier for Seaforth to bear. After watching him suffer on the ride from Durham, I agree. He’s not fit for anything aside from bed.” Perhaps the chieftain had a softer heart than he led everyone to believe. At least he showed a modicum of concern for his friend.

  Audrey shifted from her aching knees to her bum, sitting with her legs tucked to the side. “How long have you pair been friends?”

  Dunn grinned. “My family have been the constables of Eilean Donan Castle for centuries. You mightn’t ken, but Eilean Donan stands on MacKenzie lands, defended by MacRaes. My clan pays the earl fealty.”

  “And the castle? Do the MacKenzies lay claim to it?”

  “If you ask me, ’tis a MacRae keep, though I intend to continue to preserve the good relations between our clans.” Dunn shrugged and looked away. The question obviously bothered him. Perhaps that was why he always acted gruffly. He was a chieftain of an entire clan, yet servant to the MacKenzie. He turned back, his countenance stony again. “You’d best sleep; it will be daylight soon.”

  Audrey placed her palm on Reid’s shoulder, the only place not raw and mangled. “I feel as though I must sit up with him.”

  “Och, he’s nay going anywhere, and I do not want two worthless souls on my hands on the morrow. Rest your head. I’ll wake you if he rouses.” Now that sounded more like the domineering Highlander Dunn MacRae had proved himself to be.

  Around them, most of the men had mustered up a bit of hay and were already sleeping. With a shrug, she nestled onto Reid’s clump. She might doze for a few minutes, but there was no chance she would leave his side.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  They rode like a herd of fleeing deer the next day, and Reid didn’t feel a lick better. If anything, he was worse. His head pounded and his back itched and stung like a blanket of iron nails had been fused to his skin. His face was afire, yet he couldn’t stop shivering. Audrey had insisted on wrapping him in bandages before they rode. He didn’t know what was worse, traveling with his flesh exposed to the elements and freezing half to death, or suffering the prickles that came with being enwrapped.

  The intermittent rain through the day didn’t help matters, either.

  He clenched his teeth and endured in silence. Morning turned to afternoon, followed by dusk. Gerald checked his pocket watch when they rode past the gray stone walls of Craigmillar Castle and announced the time was ten o’clock.

  Dunn took one of his men and cantered the remaining three miles into the city to ensure the town house was safe. A half hour later, Reid and the others met them on Candlemaker Row.

  Dunn gave him a sober nod. “’Tis clear.”

  Reid returned the nod. Though he couldn’t show it in the presence of Audrey and the men, the relief racing through his blood served as an elixir to help him travel the remaining paces to the town house. He’d lay his head upon a soft pillow within the hour.

  Thank God.

  Infused with renewed hope, he even thought his strength might be returning, until he dismounted in the stable yard at the rear of the close. His damned knees gave out as soon as he hopped to the ground. Had there not been a post within reaching distance, he would have planted his face in the dirt.

  “Bloody oath, you look like shite.” Dunn was never one to mince words, and he pulled Reid’s arm over his shoulder. Audrey slipped under the other arm.

  Reid’s gut clenched. He didn’t need help from a wisp of a lass. “I can manage,” he said in a tone that was gruffer than he’d intended.

  “Aye, and the horse you just fell off will strut down the alley and dance a reel.” Dunn sank his thick fingers around Reid’s waist, sending blinding pain shooting up his side.

  His knees buckled again with his wince.

  “Hurry,” Audrey said, as if she planned to continue to provide a crutch.

  Reid shot a look over his shoulder. “Dammit, Graham, you cannot expect a lady to bear my weight.”

  “Sorry, m’lord.” The warrior released his horse’s girth strap. “Saddles stay on?”

  “They do,” said Dunn. “I’m not taking any chances.”

  “Och aye?” Reid snorted while Graham exchanged places with the lass. “Not taking any risks aside from riding into Edinburgh, where the largest battalion of dragoons is but a quarter mile away.”

  Mr. Drummond, the town house butler, and his wife opened the rear door with a candelabra in hand. Fortunately, they had rooms ready as Reid expected. He only stayed in Edinburgh when he had business dealings there, but he employed a skeleton staff to keep the house during his absences. They were to expect his arrival at any time day or night, which was infrequent, regardless. His head swam as the men helped him up two flights of stairs.

  “I need whisky,” Reid bellowed.

  “Gerald, please see to it His Lordship has whisky, and willow bark tea brought to his chamber,” Audrey ordered from behind.

  “Yes, miss.”

  “And I need a ewer of hot water for a sponge bath.”

  Damnation, she couldn’t leave it at a dram of whisky.

  Dunn sniggered.

  “You can keep your opinions to yourself, you bullheaded Scot,” Reid mumbled under his breath.

  “I didn’t say a word.”

  “Forget the bath,” he growled over his shoulder. To be honest, the only thing Reid wanted was a damned bed. Relief flooded through him when Graham finally opened the door to his chamber. Together they headed for the bed as fast as Reid’s legs would move.

  “Set him in the chair first. By the hearth.” Audrey strode inside like a whirlwind. Since when had she become so assertive? “Would you gentlemen please see to lighting the fire? And I need more light to change the earl’s bandages and apply salve.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Reid groused. “I just need a bloody night’s rest.”

  Audrey’s fists snapped to her hips, blocking the path to the bed like a guard dog. “I beg to differ. I saw the state of your back, and it will take sennights, if not months, to heal. Must I warn that you are in grave danger of succumbing to fever. I’ve already lost my father. I’m not about to lose my guardian.”

  The men deposited Reid in a damned chair, his spine hitting the backrest before he could stop his momentum. Stars crossed his vision. “Bloody sheep’s piss, that hurt!” His head swam as bile churned in his gut.

  “How could you men be so careless?” Audrey chided as she gently pressed on his shoulder. “You must turn and sit sideways, my lord. That’s the only way I’ll be able to change the dressing without causing undue pain.”

  He gave her a look of exasperation that seemed to have no effect, because she tugged his shirt over his head without a lick of modesty. “I’ll work as quickly as I can, and then you’ll be free to rest, my lord.”

  He nodded, the cool air attacking his flesh, making him shiver again. Bless the lass, she was trying to see to his comfort, yet the only thing he wanted was to sleep.

  As she promised, Audrey worked quickly, unraveling the bandage while the men set to lighting a fire as well as the candles.

  Gerald came in and cleared his throat.
A man always knew when the butler made an appearance by the sound. “A flagon of whisky and the willow bark tea, miss.”

  Reid held out his palm. “Put the flagon right here. Miss Audrey can drink the tea. I reckon she’s suffering aches and pains after riding two days without repose.”

  “I’m fine. The tea should help cool your fever, something I am certain whisky cannot do.”

  Reid pulled the stopper and took a long swig. The fiery liquid burned on the way down, but as soon as the libation hit his empty stomach, his head whirred with a welcome hint of intoxication.

  Gerald bowed, then turned to Audrey. “Mrs. Drummond advised there is a chamber across the corridor that you can use, miss.”

  “Thank you, but someone must sit up with His Lordship.”

  Reid took another drink—guzzled it this time. “I’m fine.”

  “I will determine that,” said Audrey, stepping behind him and examining his back. “Oh dear, this looks awful. Did you bring the water?”

  “Mrs. Drummond is bringing it directly.”

  No sooner had the words left Gerald’s mouth than the housemaid pushed through the door, her husband following with a candelabra in hand. “My heavens, what happened?” the matron asked.

  Reid raised the flagon. “Compliments of Her Majesty’s Royal Dragoons.”

  “You cannot be serious?”

  “’Twas a misunderstanding,” said Dunn, standing from his place at the hearth and brushing off his hands. “I expect to have matters sorted out on the morrow.”

  Everyone in the chamber pursed their lips as if silencing themselves from speaking further or asking more questions. It was best if the Drummonds remained unaware of the reason for Reid’s arrest. Besides, there were too many unanswered questions at the moment.

  “’Tis good to hear you’ve been using your head, MacRae.” Reid doubted his friend had thought much past securing a transport for passage home. “My preference would be to remain here for a fortnight of respite afore sailing for Brahan.”