“I don’t know.” She looked up at him while trying to calm the frightened child. “He was talking to me, telling me things about his home when, all of a sudden, he began to scream in terror.” Declan was indeed loud in his protests.
“All out!” Dougray ordered.
“I think that I should stay. The lad may be possessed,” Kirwan insisted only to have Dougray glower at him.
“Possessed? The child was a victim to the worst kind of injustice. Be gone, Kirwan, before I forget that ye are of the holy realm.”
The abbot was lost for words. Never had he expected to be dismissed so abruptly. He sent a lethal glare at Aislinn before he turned on his heels, bumping his shoulder into Fiach without so much as a “pardon me,” as he retreated.
Murrough was the last to leave and he closed the doors behind him.
After about fifteen minutes of wailing, the child’s sobs finally turned to silence. “What has happened?” Dougray stopped his pacing. “Should I call for Cahir?”
“There’s no need for the physician. Declan has simply exhausted himself.” She rose to lay the child down upon the bed, but Dougray stepped forward to relieve her of her small burden. He looked down at the sleeping child, whose face was streaked with tears. Aislinn placed a gentle kiss on the boy’s forehead. She looked up to see Dougray gazing at her curiously.
Once he put Declan to bed, he went back to speak with her.
“I don’t know what happen.” She rubbed her forehead trying to piece together why Declan had become so distressed. “Maybe I pushed him too hard.” She was the one pacing now and he walked over to her and took her in his arms.
“It is not yer fault. Declan may never be….”
“Don’t say it!” She pulled away from him. “I won’t believe it. He was fine. He was.”
He just nodded his head. “I’m sure he will fine tomorrow. He will most likely rest now. Will ye join me tonight for dinner?”
“I should stay. I don’t want Declan to be frightened if he wakes up and finds that I am not here.”
Dougray pursed his lips together and studied her for a long moment. It bothered him that she had become so preoccupied with the lad. “Ye know that ye cannot keep him.” He should have never allowed her to care for the boy.
She was becoming too attached.
“You could foster him. I know you do those kinds of things.” The pleading in her voice was hard to ignore. She wanted Declan for her own. “I am not in the habit of….”
“He needs special care.” She grabbed hold of his arm. “I have never asked you for anything, but I am now. Please don’t send him away.”
“And if I grant ye this request, what will ye do for me, Aislinn?” His voice was calm, his gaze steady. She let go of his arm and moved away, before she allowed herself to speak.
“What do ye want?”
“I think that ye know.” His left brow lifted as he waited for her to reply. “But that is….”
“Unfair?” he finished for her. “Perhaps, but so is it wrongful when a wife denies her husband?” He waited for her to acknowledge his request, but her silence seemed to say it all.
She had given him glimpses of her passion, a stolen kisses here, a hug there, but he was tired of the dance they were partaking in. He wanted more. He needed more. “I see that ye must think on it.” Disappointed, he turned away and left the room.
Aislinn awoke to a cold, lonely room and her heart was weighed heavily. Last night Declan had stirred from his exhausted slumber. He spoke again and did not seem to remember that he had gone into hysterics. She had no explanation for the sudden change and she feared that there might be other episodes. She couldn’t let Declan be sent away, but Dougray would not let him stay unless she gave herself to him.
She sat up in bed and noticed that the fire had nearly died out in the fireplace. Reluctant to move from what little warmth that she felt to revive the fire, she pulled the covers under her chin, but still, she could not get completely comfortable. With exasperation, she threw her covers off and made a mad dash over to the hearth. She threw another peat to the smoldering remains, poking it with the long fire iron. In a few seconds the wood caught hold of the embers and the fire began to blaze. Slowly the coldness melted away from her limbs as again thoughts of last night crept into her consciousness. What was she to do with Dougray Fitzpatrick? It wouldn’t be that difficult to give into the passion. She wasn’t sure if she was in love with him, but she did care for him. It didn’t look like she was going home anytime soon, so she just might as well make a life here with him. “He is my husband.”
“Aye, that I am…” Aislinn whirled around to see Dougray standing there.
For such a large man, he could move with such reticence. “…even if it’s only in name,” he finished. “Dougray.”
“Do ye have another husband that I am not aware of?”
She couldn’t miss the terseness of his response. “No, of course not.” “I’ve come to bid ye farewell.”
She turned sharply. “Farewell?”
“Do not fret, my sweet. I will return to ye, and I expect ye to give me a better welcoming than ye have given me thus far.”
His meaning was evident and she did not care to be threatened. “Do not worry, you will receive the welcoming that you deserve and no more.”
He sighed. “I have been patient with ye, Aislinn, more so than I need be.” With that he turned away leaving her to think upon his words.
Chapter 49
Tremain headed the raid, blond hair flying behind him as he reared his mount into motion. They had rounded up thirty heads of cattle by the time Dougray and his men came upon them. The fight broke out immediately sending the herd swarming in confusion, desperate to be free of the battling men.
Fitzpatrick’s men couldn’t help but notice that their lord fought almost recklessly, purposely putting himself in direct danger when it could have been easily avoided.
Murrough was close enough to Cormac to issue an order. “Tell Dermot to head around to the left flank. If Dougray keeps this up, Tremain will have his men surround him and take him prisoner.”
“He fights as if he is trying to get himself killed.”
“Ye don’t think I know this? Move before he succeeds in this matter.” Murrough raised his sword and charged forward. He was seething with anger, for he knew that the dark-haired woman whom his friend had married was somehow responsible for this hell-bent behavior.
The day was a blur to Dougray, as he fought to forget his troubled marriage. He didn’t know why he wanted Aislinn so badly. He wanted every bit of her, her heart, and her soul. He was obsessed with the need of her and she shunned him without a thought. Her heart was made of ice, at least when it came to him.
He could have easily bedded her and been done with it, but she would have hated him for it and he would have been unable to forgive himself.
Again he defended himself with a blow that sent a sword from his attacker’s hand. He turned around deflecting another attack, but before he could recover, another was upon him. He let out a loud cry as he felt the blade pierce his skin.
Aislinn held Declan as she paced the hall. She had tried to remain calm, but the word had already reached them that Dougray had fallen. When questioned no one was sure how bad his wounds were, only that he was alive. “He is a strong man.” Rhiannon walked over to her, offering to take the child from her arms.
She looked at the fair-haired beauty that was Murrough’s woman and wondered how she could stand there so calm when the man whom she loved was out there too. “I know that he’s capable, but still he is not invincible.”
“Nay, but he does have good men to back him up.”
“Murrough?” Aislinn knew that Dougray trusted him, but she had found no reason to actually like the man. He had a way of looking at her that made her feel unwelcome.
“Among others,” Rhiannon added.
“I know.” A tremendous amount of guilt lay heavy on her shoulders. Dougray had le
ft the keep disappointed, maybe even a little angry with her. He needed to be alert when he went into battle and without distractions.
She didn’t want to fight anymore but she didn’t know how to take the steps to repair the damage. If truth be known, he scared her. He demanded of her something that no other man had ever done before. He wanted her to need him and she was afraid to let herself feel that vulnerable. It spoke of weakness and she saw it as a defect, a failing in some way.
“Sometimes it helps to talk.” Rhiannon hoped to be of some comfort. She could tell that the woman was hurting and she knew that it was more than just the worry of how Dougray fared.
“We argued before he left…” She reached out and caressed Declan’s face. “If ye are thinking that ye are at fault somehow, ye can forget it this moment. Milord has seen fighting before ye ever came to live here. He is a seasoned warrior.”
“What if he….” She couldn’t finish it. “I need to speak to him to tell him….”
At that moment, she heard the announcement that they had arrived. She saw the physician Cahir Dunphy hurrying by. When she saw that Abbot Kirwan and Father Fiach followed, she became panicked. “I must go to him.” But she hesitated for she had Declan with her.
“Do not worry.” Rhiannon knew her concern. “I will care for the lad. Now go.”
“Thank you, Rhiannon.”
“Where is he?” Aislinn pushed her way past the guards that barred the door. Finally her eyes rested on him. A flood of relief rushed over her when she saw that he was sitting up on his own accord. Surely the wound couldn’t be all that bad.
The physician Cahir chose that moment to move to the side revealing the horribly gaping slash that ran the length of his right side. She couldn’t help but gasp, making both the physician and Dougray turn to look at her. Dougray’s eyes narrowed and she faltered for just a moment. She had come this far and had no intentions of leaving until she knew he was going to be all right.
“They said you were injured.” She caught herself glancing uneasily over the exposed raw flesh.
Dougray was in pain and he failed to hear Aislinn’s concern. He growled out his response causing everyone present to flinch. “Did ye come here to see if the wound was fatal? Mark my words, I have no intention of leaving this world without a fight. So don’t think ye’ll get out of our marriage all too soon.”
Aislinn was on the verge of snapping out a retort, but fell silent when her eyes once more fell to the gaping wound. She cringed thinking how very close he came to losing his life. She covered the distanced that separated them, not caring that he was glaring at her with distrust. She would humble herself if she had to. She was not going to let him chase her away. “You hurt my feelings. I simply was concerned.”
“Concerned?” His brows rose slightly.
She took a closer look at the wound and she had to take a deep breath to steady herself. This slice by no means was anywhere near a flesh wound. It looked like his skin had been flayed away to expose bone. She looked at Cahir hoping to God that he was a competent physician. “Have you disinfected the area?”
A look passed between Cahir and Dougray that clearly indicated that they had no idea what she was asking. She realized immediately that she needed to take control. She was not going to lose Dougray over an infection that could have easily been avoided. She looked at the wound once more. She swallowed the lump in her throat. At least, she hoped it could be avoided. “I’ll need some hot water, clean cloth and…” It probably needed to be stitched but it looked like dirt and who knows what else was embedded in the flesh; it would be better if it were left open. “…bring some wine, too.”
The physician looked at Dougray and he nodded. “Do as she says; I could use a drink.”
Cahir ordered one of the men to fetch what was needed. When the wine was handed to Aislinn, Dougray held out his hand to accept it from her, but instead she promptly doused the raw flesh. Dougray nearly hit the ceiling as he came to his feet with a death-curdling bellow. Fiach stood thinking he might have to intervene on Aislinn’s behalf for his cousin had murder in his eyes.
“What the bloody hell are ye doing? Are ye tryin’ to finish me off then?” Aislinn knew she couldn’t back down now, even if he was like a wounded bear ready to kill. “The wine will help fight the infection. It had to be done. So stop your roaring and sit down.” He pointed his finger at her and opened his mouth to say something but she had moved forward, looking him square in the eye. “I said sit down!” Her voice rose, demanding her request. Everyone in the room seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for Dougray to vent his wrath, but to their surprise, he quietly and simply took his seat. Aislinn sighed in relief. “Really, Dougray.” She shook her head, gaining some confidence now that he hadn’t strangled her to death. “I can’t believe you would wince over a little spilt wine.”
“That hurt,” he growled.
“And the sword slicing through your flesh did not?” She took the rag that Cahir handed her and dipped into the warm water. “It was a battle ax,” he corrected.
Aislinn eyes darted sharply to his face. “Dear God.” She put her hand over his. “They meant to kill you.”
He was astonished to realize she was genuinely concerned. He put his large hand over hers. “That is why I worry so when ye wander far from the grounds.”
No one missed the tender exchange that seemed to pass between the two. When Dougray realized his men were staring, he quickly pulled his hand away. “Aislinn, ye best leave now so Cahir can tend to me.”
“I can bandage you just as well.” She refused to be sent away and Dougray noted the determined look in her eyes.
“Milord, if I may…” Abbot Kirwan began only to be interrupted.
“Ye heard my wife. She will tend to me. He waved his hand to dismiss the men around him, but Cahir couldn’t believe that he meant for him to go too.
Aislinn eyes challenged the physician. “All of you.” She swept her hand around the room. “Leave your lord so that he may rest.”
Kirwan’s beady eyes narrowed almost disappearing into his pudgy face. Fiach took hold of his arm. “Come now, it is for the best.” Fiach thought that he might have to drag the abbot from the room, but finally he turned and left on his own accord.
Dougray watched Aislinn closely as she took care to clean his other wounds. She was biting her lower lip and her hands were trembling. “Aislinn?”
Glimmering with unshed tears, her dark eyes met his.
“It takes more than this to do a Fitzpatrick in. I’ll be all right, lass.”
She gave him a nervous chuckle and a weak smile. “Shouldn’t I be telling you that?”
He laughed only to regret it. He closed his eyes, grimacing in pain. She immediately put her arm around him fearing he might topple over.
“Ye best help me to the bed.” He had tried to remain unfaltering, but his strength was quickly ebbing away and he refused to pass out at her feet.
Carrying most of his weight, she helped him into bed pulling the covers up under his chin.
“Ye will stay?” He reached for her and she took hold of his hand in a fierce grip.
“You couldn’t force me away.”
“Aye, Scathach, I was hoping ye would say that.”
Within minutes, he had fallen into a restless sleep. She watched over him, constantly checking his pulse. She wasn’t sure why she was doing it, but it seemed like something she should monitor. It gave her great comfort that she could feel his strong heartbeat beneath her touch.
The first day he awoke to drink and to eat some broth, but by the second day he was feverish and racked with chills.
Hours would pass without him opening his eyes. Aislinn watched helplessly as he tossed and turned, sweat pouring down his face. She would sleep only when Rhiannon would come to relieve her and force her to go back
to her own room, but she would never sleep for very long and would hurry back to his side. Again and again, she’d dampened his brow with cool water, b
ut still his skin burned with fever. Dread filled her. She was losing him and there was nothing that she could do about it.
In his agitated state, Dougray grabbed hold of her arm and his eyes opened, pinning her with a fierce look. “Who are ye? Why have ye come?” “It is I, Dougray, Aislinn.” One minute he would know her and the next he would demand to know why she was there. He would change back and forth from English to Gaelic and sometimes in mid-sentence making it hard to follow what he wanted. “Just rest. You need to rest.”
“Aislinn?” his voice softened and his hand caressed her cheek. “Yes. I’m here.” Her eyes filled with tears. “You have to rest.”
“Aye. I’m so very tired.” His arm dropped to the bed and she again dabbed his forehead. “Aislinn, my life was not whole without ye. Did I ever tell ye this?”
She paused for a moment before she answered him, “No. You never did.” His feverish eyes watched her. “Please don’t leave me. Please promise that ye’ll stay.”
She sniffled back a cry and nodded her head. “First you have to get well, Dougray.”
“I care so much for ye, lass.” His eyes closed then as in sleep, only his body was shivering as though he was packed in ice. She pulled the covers up higher on his chest. “Nay, Ella! Ella!” Terror was in his voice and she tried to calm him. “Aislinn! Aislinn! Stay, please stay.”
“I’m right here.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I’m here, Dougray.” She had thought of him as solid, strong, and now he was lying there, his vibrant energy ebbing away. She clenched her jaw forcing herself to rid her mind of those thoughts. He would pull through this. He just had to. What he needed was a good dose of…. She jumped to her feet, drawing in a deep breath. How could she have been so stupid? He needed antibiotics.
She ran over to her backpack frantically looking for the bottle that her dentist had prescribed for her a few months back. With it in her hand, she opened the container and nearly dumped the contents to the floor before she stilled her hands and was able to take one of the precious tablets out. She tossed the bottle back inside her backpack.
Lost in the Mist of Time Page 41
