She continued to care for Alexander through the second day. By evening, he showed no signs of improvement. As she made another batch of poultice in the kitchen, she heard some of the servants muttering about her methods under their breath.
The cook was more vocal in her opinion. "Lady MacGregor, why dinna ye send fer the healer from the next village? He kens much about sickness and can bleed the evil poisons from the master. Ye dinna need fash, for he willna quit until the healin' is done." She nodded with enthusiasm. "Why, I seen him bleed one of the crofters three times before the devil fled from the mon's blood and he was cured. 'Twas a shame the crofter didna last but a day after that. But he went to God's bosom a clean mon wi' nary taint of the devil on him."
Katherine shuddered at the thought. She too had seen the practice so commonly used and did not agree that it held much merit. Shaking her head, she said, "No, I do not wish to have the laird bled. I will care for him."
But as she carried the freshly ground herb and oats mixture back to Alexander's chamber, she worried. Sweet Mary, what if she was wrong? Her method might not be the best way. What if she wasn't able to save him? By the saints, why was there no healer at Ironwood?
The Gordon castle was not nearly as large as this one, and yet there had been a healer there for as long as she could remember. She looked down at the mortar and pestle in her hands. They had once belonged to her nurse. The sharp tangy smell of the bowl's contents reminded her of the last time she'd seen her.
Her nurse had beckoned to her, whispering in a feeble voice. "Lass, I wish ye to take me bowl and grindin' stone. Use them to help others as I taught ye. I willna be needin' them any longer."
Katherine held the woman's frail withered hand and sat beside her on the edge of the bed. "'Tis no hurry for that. You will be up and about soon."
"Nay this time, lass. Promise ye will do this."
She nodded, pressing her friend's hand to her cheek.
The old woman smiled and said, "Now sing once more for me as ye did when ye were a wee thing. I wish to hear it again."
For a moment, Katherine could only sit in silence as she swallowed against the tight lump in her throat and blinked back tears that threatened to break free.
"Oh, the bonnie wee bairn's a cryin' dear mother. Oh, the bairn's a cryin' this morn to be sure. And what should I do for the wee one, dear mother? The milk cow's got loose and run out on the moor. Biadh an leanabh. Biadh an leanabh..."
Katherine felt the gnarled hand slowly slide from her grasp and she looked down at the old woman lying silent and still. The words caught in her throat. There was no need to continue singing for her friend could no longer hear her.
"No! Don't leave me."
Sobbing, she had laid her face on the woman's chest. The coarse woolen tunic still felt warm. Salty tears that she'd held in check soaked into the woven material and disappeared. She gently kissed her nurse's cheek, picked up the mortar and pestle and pressed them to her heart.
With a bittersweet smile, she thought of how the old woman used to comfort her and dry her childhood tears with the end of her apron. She could still hear her words.
"Stop yer cryin' me lambkin, ye'll shrivel me apron to be sure. And I've nay more wool to be addin' to it. Things will come aright if ye willna despair."
Katherine looked down at the stone bowl she now carried. She had promised to use it. And she would.
By the third day, Alexander's condition had worsened. Even the herb tea didn't calm his agitated movements. At times he coughed so much that his breathing became labored. His weakened body lay listless and still. Then the fever returned. It set him to thrashing so violently in his bed that Lord Drummond and Malcolm had to restrain him while she dosed him with stronger remedies. Eventually, the more powerful herbs took effect and he dozed fitfully.
Katherine looked over at the two men who had aided her. She gave them a faint smile. "Thank you for your help. I think he will sleep for some time now."
Malcolm nodded and left.
Drummond pulled a chair close to the warmth of the fireplace and motioned for her to sit. "My lady, I thought I would stay to keep you company for a while in case Alex should awaken. Even sick, his strength more than matches your own. Och, when he is fit, 'tis probably more than mine. But we willna tell him so. His arrogance doesna need strengthening." Grinning, he poured a mug of wine for her and himself, and then sat in a chair near her. Stretching out his legs, he sighed.
Other than the occasional sounds of the crackling flames, the room was silent. After several minutes Katherine glanced at the man beside her. "Tell me, Lord Drummond, how long have you and my husband been friends?"
He looked up and smiled slowly. "Ah, ever since we met, lass. He and I were sent to Edinburgh to train for knighthood when we were barely more than lads. I fear my mam wanted me trained more strictly than I felt compelled to be. When I saw Alex's, uh, shall we say, adventuresome nature, we became instant companions. We've had many interesting times together to be sure. In fact 'tis because of them that I've learned to trust him with my life."
Empty desolation rose up within her. How she wished Alexander and she shared such fierce loyalties for each other. She gazed longingly over at her sleeping husband then back to Drummond. "I know so little of him. Please tell me about one of your adventures."
Nodding, he stared into the fire and began to talk. "One evening when we were twelve, we ventured out on our own into Edinburgh. We were approached by one of the whor- uh, women who frequent the streets there. While she caught our attention, two thieves set upon us. The men were intent on stealing whate'er we had and didna care if they had to kill us to do it. At one point, Alex could have run away and left me to fight alone, but he stayed. We stood back to back and fought wildly."
Drummond chuckled. "We yelled and made more noise than any battle we have fought in since. The thieves and the wench ran off before the commotion could bring attention to their misdeeds. Alex and I vowed lifelong friendship that day and have come to rely on our trust in each other ever since."
A wistful smile touched Katherine's lips. "It must be wonderful to know you have someone you can depend on so."
The Scot cleared his throat and took a quick drink of his wine. "Aye, but 'tis not an emotion I alone own. Alex respects all his loyalties. Give him time lass."
When she didn't answer, he rose, leaned over and patted her shoulder. "Well, 'twould seem he is going to sleep for a while so I will leave you now. If you have need of me, send someone to fetch me."
"Aye. Thank you."
Katherine returned to Alexander's bedside and bathed his head with a cool cloth. Then she sank wearily onto the low seat next to him. She dozed off until the sound of voices outside the chamber door brought her awake with a start. Looking up, she saw the cook open the door. "What do you want?"
The woman ignored her and spoke to someone in the corridor behind her. "See if 'tis not as I spoke when I sent fer ye. Ye must tend to the laird."
The cook entered, leading a ragged-looking stranger in. She crossed her arms over her ample chest and looked about the room with a frown. A short thin man with dirty hands and a soiled tunic stood nodding beside her.
Katherine watched the cook's scowling face from across the room and a tingle of apprehension ran through her. "Why are you here? I didn't call for you."
The woman propped her hands on her hips. "I have brought the healer to bleed the laird."
"What? How dare you!"
The cook shook her finger at Katherine. "I dinna believe in yer ways. This mon is a true healer." She smirked. "He will cure the laird."
"You have no authority here. Get out of this room. Now!"
The cook raised her chin and glanced quickly about the chamber once more, the frown never leaving her lips. Then she turned and stomped from the room.
The words didn't seem to convince the unkempt man. Without acknowledging her, he walked up to the bed and reached for one of Alexander's arms. He pulled a stained and chipp
ed dirk from a sack tied at his waist.
Katherine shouted, "No. Don't touch him!" She grabbed the stranger's hand, wrestling with him to keep the dirk from Alexander.
The wiry little man shouted as he attempted to free his wrist from her frantic grasp. "Ye crazed wench, leave off! I ken what to do. Naught is goin' to keep me from me work." He shoved her, knocking her to the floor.
She heard a roar like a maddened bull and looked up as a large fast-moving blur flew past her. The healer was smashed beneath a mass of flying limbs and furs. Suddenly the struggling bodies stilled, and Alexander's fever-darkened gaze glimmered up at her from the top of the heap. He reached out toward her, then his eyes rolled back in his head and he keeled over on top of the unconscious stranger.
Chapter Sixteen
For the next five days Alexander's soul hovered between heaven and hell. One moment he thought he might drown in his own sweat and another he would shake uncontrollably as chills racked his body.
Sometimes, when the fever took him, he heard Katherine's gentle laughter. In his mind, he saw his brother and his wife reach out to each other, their expressions filled with lust. Those were the worst times. He tried to go after William and Katherine, but weakness always overcame him and he sank back exhausted on the bed. After several endless days and nights of illness, he lay spent and deeply troubled. Then the tremors began again.
He opened his eyes to see David and Malcolm holding him down as he thrashed about. Katherine stood beside them with a small vial in her hands. Her voice floated toward him from a distance. "Lord Drummond, Malcolm, hold him still or I will get naught of this potion past his lips."
Looking up at Davey and Malcolm nodding in agreement, he shouted, "So, witch, now you have turned even my friends against me."
Malcolm tried to clap his hand over Alexander's mouth and growled, "Haud yer wheesht!"
Katherine smiled slightly and gently pushed his hand away. "I suggest you pay no more heed to the ranting of a man in the midst of a fever than one deep in his cups. For neither will remember aught when they rouse later from the effects."
Alexander shot a tortured glance at her. His anguished thoughts poured from his lips. "Don't waste your fine words, woman. 'Tis clear you have betrayed me again. Tell me, how many times did you lay with them to convince them to help you poison me?"
He knew a brief flash of pain as Drummond's fist hit him. Then he knew nothing more.
**
The sound of a bright angel's voice filled Alexander's mind with deep tranquility, soothing him back to the pain free emptiness of sleep. He floated endlessly on a cool breeze; no anger, no worry, just peace.
Then the fever returned, and he knew hell on earth as he saw himself back in his own chamber of During Castle. He witnessed Katherine wantonly give her body to William and Davey. Fiona, dressed all in black, ushered in an endless line of leering men. When the dark vision appeared, he feared he would lose his mind. He fought it, thrashing about wildly.
At the end of the seventh day, his fever finally broke. The violent tremors ended and he no longer needed to be restrained. That night he rested peacefully on his own, with no need of sleeping potions.
The next morning he awoke as Katherine bent over him and bathed his face with a cool damp cloth. The heaviness in his chest was gone. He knew the illness had left him, although he was still weak and confused. He remembered naught after he'd ridden into Ironwood's gates and found Katherine and William together. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but as he looked into her eyes, he couldn't speak. He wouldn't allow her to see the heartache he felt inside. How could someone so beautiful do what she had done? And, God, why did he still want her so?
As he continued to stare at her, he noticed dark shadows under her eyes. Could it be that she had lost sleep over him? Or was she merely spending too many sleepless nights with the men in the castle? His head throbbed from the thought. He clenched his fists to his sides. Feeling the pinch of sore knuckles on his right hand, he loosened his grip. He must have hit it hard at some point when he'd thrashed about.
Katherine straightened the blankets and then pulled back the bed sheet exposing his naked chest. The cool air felt good.
He took a deep breath and smiled for the first time in days. But when she began to rub some foul smelling concoction on him, he thought he would retch. That is until her warm fingers caressed his skin with her light touch. Then he lost all ability to smell or even to think clearly as another function of his body came stirring to life.
Heat coursed through him, equaling his fevers of the past several days, but had naught to do with illness of the body. The heat took over his mind and spirit, and he feared there might be no recovering from it.
Breaking their mutual silence, Katherine spoke in a trembling voice, as if uncomfortable with his intense gaze. "'Tis good to see you awake, my lord. How do you feel?"
Her soft voice sounded like an angel's caress, one he could listen to for hours. No. He wouldn't be swayed so easily. He'd been tricked before and would forever pay the price of his foolishness. "I have felt better. What is that stench?"
"'Tis a poultice for the cough and tightness in your chest."
"Well, wipe it off! The smell sickens me."
Davey's deep chuckle sounded from the side of the bed. "Ah, I see you are in good humor, Alex."
Alexander's head snapped up, his nerves frayed. He hadn't even heard Davey approach. Warily, he looked his friend in the eye. Was he still a friend?
Katherine smiled and nodded in greeting. "Good day, Lord Drummond. Did you wish to speak to my husband? I'm finished here."
Alexander watched her response to Davey. Her friendly attitude seemed proper enough. But then she would hardly fall into the man's arms there in front of him, now would she? Glancing back at Davey, he noticed his casual smile and the expression of apparent admiration in his eyes. If ever a man wore a look of more frank approval on his face, Alexander hadn't seen it.
Drummond nodded. "Aye, my lady. Perhaps you might wish to take some time away from your duty here while I speak with Alex. Malcolm said to tell you he would be available if you had need of him."
A throaty growl erupted from Alexander's lips. "What do you—"
Her swift reply cut across his response, as if the thought of leaving him appealed to her. "Thank you, my lord, I won't be gone long."
Alexander tightened his fists again, disregarding the sore bruises and scowled at her retreating back. As soon as she left the chamber he exploded. "What in hell do you mean; Malcolm will be available for her? Just what services does my loyal man-at-arms perform for my wife?"
Drummond's face clouded over. His glare matched his words. "By God, you can shut your mouth now or I will do it for you. Your man is loyal to you, which may be more than you deserve. And as for thinking your wife has done aught to warrant your foul temper, your mind must still be lodged up your arse!"
Alexander's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed to mere slits. His words were slow and deliberate. "I will ask you just once more. What does Malcolm do with my wife?"
For a moment, Davey didn't answer as he glared in return. Then he snorted and reached for the wine ewer. "Och, calm down. On my word, you have naught to fash o'er. Malcolm merely goes to the village for needed supplies whene'er your wife asks him to. That way she can spend more time with your care."
Filling a mug for both of them, he handed one to his friend and drank from his own. Then he pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat down.
The tension in Alexander's shoulders eased slightly as he took a deep swallow of wine. He felt the cool liquid run down the back of his throat and fill his belly with warmth. "Davey, I recall naught of the last several days except hazy images. Even a nickum face such as yours is a welcome sight." He looked about him clearly for the first time in eight days. Noticing the changes in his chamber, he glanced back at his friend with a bemused expression.
Davey took another drink of wine, set the mug down with a firm
rap and said, "My friend, we have much to speak of."
**
Katherine relaxed as she walked the long corridor leading away from the sick room. 'Twas kind of Lord Drummond and Malcolm to stay with Alexander occasionally so she could check on William or stretch her legs and gather herbs for her poultices and draughts.
She smiled as she entered the young man's chamber at the far end of the passageway. "Hello William. I wished to see how you fare. Does your leg pain you much?"
Crossing the room, she knelt down beside him and looked at his braced leg as he sat with it stretched out before him, bound to a length of board. Thank heaven it appeared to be healing correctly. When they had first arrived at Ironwood and noted its lack of a healer, she had feared she might damage the leg further by trying to set it. But to wait indefinitely for a physician to be found would have been worse. Without Alexander or any of his men there to send for aid, she hadn't had a choice.
The procedure had been agonizing. On her signal, William's man had held him down as she pulled on the lower part of his leg until the fractured bone slipped back into line with the upper portion. Even with the wine they had repeatedly coaxed him to drink before they attempted to set his leg, the pain had apparently been excruciating. William had cried out once and then fallen into unconsciousness. Thank the saints, he seemed to be recovering with no ill effects.
Her question was met with a smile. "Ah, my leg feels better each day. 'Tis glad I am you and my man were able to set it straight on the first try. I fear the pain in my head would have been far greater than in my leg had you made me drink anymore of that wine." His apparent show of bravado in not admitting to the pain reminded her of his brother. They both were strong in body and pride.
Seeing his smile, her heart eased for the first time in many days. She laughed with him and bantered back and forth, as they had done before, in platonic friendship. That is, until Alexander had stormed into the main hall, knocked over the chess table and held them at sword point as he shouted accusations and threats. And before— No, she wouldn't think of that. The dark image immediately put an end to her happy mood. She frowned and chewed at her bottom lip.
Highlander's Bride (Heart of the Highlander Series Book 1) Page 20
