“That’s right, Ellic, I’d forgot you married. Felicitations.”
“I never thought I’d marry. Now here I am, married to Maureen.”
“I’m sorry I missed your wedding. Och, I didn’t get an invite anyway.” Douglas grinned, and thought a bit of banter would lighten the mood.
Ellic laughed at his mocking tone. “Aye, my bride didn’t want to wait for a gathering. She’s from Ireland, don’t ye know.”
“Ireland, good God, man.”
“Aye, and bonny for sure.” Ellic grinned. “Shame that our gift was destroyed.”
“Who would kill your property? Have you more enemies that we don’t know about?”
Ellic’s expression turned grim. “Nay, since we’ve allied with the MacKinnons, we haven’t had any trouble with other clans. ‘Tis the truth, it’s been rather peaceful until now.”
“I’ll ride about the woods, and see if I can ferret out anyone. Have any other incidents occurred since or was this—”
“Nay, this be the only one. I’ll ride along with ye.”
“I could use the company. Burk doesn’t talk much.”
Ellic laughed at his jest then sobered. “I’ve more men in the woods, they’ve been keeping watch. We’ll catch up with them. My sentry’s been on alert for days, but there hasn’t been anything amiss. There haven’t been reports of men sighted by my neighboring clans either.”
They stayed in the woods for a fortnight, looking for signs of foes, but there was no sign of anyone having been there. No remains of camp fires left, no trails to follow—nothing. Whoever killed the oxen hadn’t stayed around after the deed either. Ellic told him the remaining oxen were accounted for, so none had been stolen.
“I wish Gil was here, he’s good at ferreting out clues. He would have found something. Hell, he can spot a broken blade of grass.”
“Aye, that lad has a keen sense. Where is he?”
Douglas turned to face him. “He’s with Brendan at the MacKinnon holding. Bonnie’s gone missing in Londontown and Gil went home with him. Colin needs Brendan to attend to the clan while he’s away searching for the lass.”
“Bonnie’s missing in England? Aw, the poor lassie. Colin must be beside himself. Mayhap I’ll send a message and ask Gil to come have a look around, if he has time. It couldn’t hurt to have his assessment.”
“You do that, I’m heading home. There’s nothing more we can do until they make another move. I suggest you send out sentries and often. Make sure they keep a good eye out.”
“Aye, I’ll do so. Thanks for coming, Douglas.”
Douglas and Burk rode in the direction of Kerr land. The MacKinnon land centered between Kerr, KirkConnell, McFie, and Dunmore land, each touching the border. As far as he knew they were all aligned, except for the Dunmores who kept to themselves. There were no problems that would cause the Dunmores to go against the McFies, at least, none that Douglas knew. The Dunmores were afeard of the MacKinnons and wouldn’t go against one of their allies.
They would raise their sword against the Kerrs though, being their sworn enemy, it was expected. Their longstanding feud caused other clans to stay out of their scuffles. Douglas knew Colin had gotten wind of their constant raids and skirmishes. Colin tried to reason with both he and Irving, but neither would take heed. Douglas wasn’t about to let Irving Dunmore get away with murder, and he’d told Colin so.
As he rode along, he wondered who would want to hurt the McFies, and thought perhaps it could be the Dunmores. Burk must have thought the same thing.
“You know, none of this makes any sense. Ellic hasn’t had difficulty with any clans, so why would someone want to hurt ‘em?”
Douglas was about to answer when he heard a whistle. He fell from his horse, striking his head on the ground. Everything turned blurry, and he heard Burk shouting.
Burk yelled out, jumped from his steed, and pulled his sword out of its scabbard. The Kerr soldiers surrounded him, while Burk searched for the would-be attackers.
“I don’t see anyone. Men, keep your eyes on the woods.”
Burk knelt next to him, and was saying something.
Douglas felt the warmth of his blood on his head, and his shoulder burned. Everything became shadowy, with two images of his comrade’s face waving. He closed his eyes wanting to succumb.
“Damn it to hell,” Burk roared. He knelt beside Douglas and tried to get him to come to, but he was completely unresponsive. Yanking the arrow from the Kerr Laird’s shoulder, he then bunched up a plaid and placed it inside Douglas’ tunic. He had a hard time getting Douglas on his horse, even with the help of two men. After they struggled to get him up, they finally placed him upon the horse’s back. Burk pulled a rope from his pouch, and tied him down. He jumped on his own horse, giving the command to ride out.
They rode hell-bent, and didn’t stop until they reached home. When Burk saw the walls ahead, he shouted for assistance. Cedric ran from the keep and stopped when he reached them.
Burk tried not to alarm the young soldier with his news and he kept his voice level. “Cedric, come and help me, Douglas has been hurt.”
Cedric frowned intently while he helped untie his laird and lift him from the horse. “What happened to him?”
“Someone shot him with an arrow in the McFie woods. We were headed home, when it happened. I think he hit his head too.”
Cedric placed his laird over his shoulder and took him inside. Burk followed, explaining the details. Cedric knew Lady Kerr was inside and hoped she wouldn’t become hysterical.
“Milady, Douglas has been hurt, send for the healer,” Cedric told her gently.
Lady Kerr clamored at the sight of her son, but she ran from the keep toward the healer’s hut.
Cedric took the stairs and placed Douglas on his bed. He paced alongside the bed, waiting for the healer. Lady Kerr returned a short while later and touched Douglas’ head.
“The healer is ailing and cannot come. She’s bedridden. I don’t know what to do. Cedric, help him,” she cried. “I’m not experienced in matters of healing. Thomas never allowed me to learn.”
Cedric patted her shoulder, trying to comfort her. “My lady, there must be someone else here that can tend him.”
“Aye, but they live too far. He’ll surely die by the time they reach us. Oh, God.” She burst into tears, and Cedric turned at the sound of the door opening.
“I know some healing remedies, Lady Kerr. Do move out of the way. Cedric, let me tend him,” Isabel commanded. “Lady Kerr, bring hot water and cloths. I’ll have him well in no time.”
“You’re an unmarried woman, I cannot let you attend him. It would not be proper.”
“It’s not likely he’ll seduce me in his condition, Lady Kerr. Besides, there is no one else. Bring linens with you, too. Have water heated.”
Lady Kerr gave into Isabel’s command and left the room.
“What do you need the water for?” Cedric asked.
“To cleanse the wound, and it will keep her busy while I tend him. Have you a dagger?” He held his out to her. “Clean it, while I prepare.”
He did as she asked, then paced the room, watching her at her chores. He noticed Douglas’ pale color and that he’d remained unmoving. He searched his laird’s chest for motion.
“If you don’t cease pacing, you’ll make me ill. Come, help me undress him; he’s too heavy.”
Cedric tore at the tunic and pulled it off. It was soaked with blood, and he flinched at the sight. “He’s lost a lot of blood, mayhap too much to save him.” He grew gravely troubled by it.
“Aye, he has, but worry not, I will do what I can.” She prodded the injury. “He’s damned fortunate. I can’t believe he didn’t die from the impact alone.”
He flinched at her words, nodding his silent agreement and leaned forward to see the damage.
“The wound looks bad. He’ll be in terrible pain, if he survives.” She dabbed the blood surrounding the jagged injury. Douglas didn’t stir.
&
nbsp; Candace ran in the room and carried on, so much so, that Isabel had to pull her off Douglas.
“I cannot attend him with you crying over him. Help your mother,” Isabel commanded.
“Milady, what if he dies?” Cedric asked.
Candace sobbed loudly at his question, and Isabel glared at him.
“He better not die. Do you hear me, Douglas? You better not die,” Isabel shouted. “Go, Candace, help your mother. I’ll tend him, worry not.”
As soon as the door closed, Isabel wiped the blood from his chest, and moved closer to look at the torn skin. “There’s a piece of arrow still inside. I’ll have to remove it. Come, hold him down, incase he awakens.”
Cedric stood beside her, holding Douglas’ shoulders, praying aloud. He didn’t realize it until Isabel looked at him with a concerned glance. She grasped the small wooden fragment, and pulled the tip of an arrow out.
“There, now I can clean the wound and stitch it. Fetch my cloth sack inside my satchel. It’s beside the doorway in Candace’s chamber.”
He did as she commanded and found the satchel beside the door. He opened it, and removed several weapons before he found the sack. He was aghast at the amount of weapons in her bag, but he’d have to ask her about it later. Right now his main concern was for his laird. He returned to Douglas’ chamber and handed her the cloth sack.
It took several minutes to clean the wound. She mixed the smallest pinch of hemlock with a bit of cowbane into liquid and poured a few drops in his mouth to ward off pain and infection. Taking the time to account for each of her steps, she went about the duty methodically. She explained that she usually disliked using the herbs, because people were known to die from such potions, but she knew Douglas needed some kind of pain relief. After mixing a concoction to ward off infection, she returned the herbs to the packet and placed it aside.
“Will he survive?” Cedric leaned forward to see what she was doing.
She threaded the end of the needle, and pinched his skin so she could bind the wound. “I don’t know, Cedric,” she said after a moment. “Merciful God, I hope so, if he doesn’t get fever or an infection. I used herbs to ward against it, but one never knows.” Isabel hesitated to apply the needle to his flesh, but he knew she had to be brave. She quickly finished her task and affixed a bandage.
She sat beside him, placing her hand on his heart. “It beats in a steady rhythm, but faintly. I’m sure you have things to see to. I’ll watch over him for a while. Have hot water sent up, and I’ll clean him so he’ll rest easier.”
“Aye, Milady, I’ll have my laird’s mother sent to help you.” Cedric left her alone.
Isabel let the tears she’d been fighting since first saw him in such a condition, fall. She wept silently. Douglas hadn’t stirred once while she’d tended him. She knew he’d be in pain, and she was relieved that he remained senseless. It hurt seeing him wounded. She swore then and there that she wouldn’t let him die. And even after making that vow, she prayed.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Kerr clan was on alert. The keep was closed tight against intruders. Sentries were sent to protect the fields and lands surrounding the holding, as well as to the crofts. The news was bleak—the laird wasn’t doing well. Everyone assumed he’d die, and their manner all but had him buried. Cedric commanded a box be made, and sent for their clergyman. Great sadness waded through the clan, and the weather mimicked their dismal manner. It had rained the day Douglas arrived home, and hadn’t let up since. Lady Kerr remarked that it should have been snow, for it was cold enough. Yet, they contended with the incessant drizzle and frequent downpours.
Isabel shook her head as she watched Lady Kerr sitting beside Douglas, weeping again. She’d chased her from the room several times that day, as well as the day before, and the day before that. She’d turned demanding during his infirmity, and all obeyed her orders, knowing that she was just as distressed over his condition as they were.
Douglas had been ravaged by fever for three days. Lady Kerr mumbled that his end neared, and that she couldn’t bear to be away from him, even for a moment. Isabel stood up to her, the sullen men, the weeping women, and demanded they have more faith in their laird. All thought she was unbalanced when she told them that he would survive, and that he wouldn’t dare leave them.
“Lady Kerr, you’re back again?” Isabel carried a bowl of cool water and placed it on the table beside the bed.
“Aye, he’s not doing any better. Don’t lie to me, Isabel. He’s dying, isn’t he?”
Lady Kerr covered her face so she wouldn’t see her crying, knowing she wouldn’t let her stay if she wept.
“Nay, he’s not dying. You’re not helping by crying at his bedside, Lady Kerr. Here.” Isabel handed her a cool cloth. “We’ve got to wipe him down. He’s burning with fever again.”
“You must leave, Isabel. ‘Tis not proper for you to be here, I cannot abide by it. Your mother is surely condemning me from her grave.”
“I assure you, my mother would want me to help. At least I think she would. As long as he still breathes, I’ll continue to heal him. He’s a big man, we can get the job done much sooner if I help anyway.”
“But you’re a young unmarried lass. I cannot allow you to—”
“I’ve seen naked men before. I’m not a silly girl to be concerned with such matters. Will you stop badgering me and help?” Isabel pulled back the cover, and tried not to look at his middle section. “I’ll wipe his chest and arms, you can do his legs.”
When they finished, they put an extra plaid over him. “If you’re going to start weeping again, Lady Kerr, I shall ask ye to leave.”
Douglas’ mother lowered her head, and reluctantly left the chamber.
Isabel felt his forehead; he felt somewhat cooler. She bent over him, laying her head against his shoulder, the one not bandaged, and her hand played with a lock of his hair.
“Douglas, please come back to me. I miss ye. You’re worrying me. You can even scowl, I won’t mind,” Isabel whispered. She continued to play with his hair, snuggling closer. “I don’t think I could bear it, if you don’t survive this. I haven’t even had a chance to show you my true self. You’ll be surprised, Douglas, I’m not the demure woman you thought me to be. I love you.” She fell into an exhausted sleep, her hand still bound in his hair, her body resting beside his.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The moon shone through the single window casement in the room when Douglas opened his eyes. At first, he didn’t realize where he was, but he felt a woman cuddled beside him. He moved his gaze from the window to the woman and noticed Isabel. He wasn’t sure why she was there, but he wasn’t about to question it. Caressing her cheek, he listened to her murmuring in her sleep. His thumb brushed over her lip, feeling the softness. Isabel opened her eyes and gasped.
Douglas felt like hell. His entire body seemed heavy, and as his mind cleared from the funk, he realized his head and shoulder hurt. How had he ended up here, he wondered? He didn’t recall riding home. The last thing he remembered was riding with Burk.
“Where is he? Burk!” He tried to sit up, but Isabel held him still.
She moved from the bed, blushing over the embarrassment at being found lying next to him.
“Relax, Douglas, he’s here, safe and well.”
He relaxed back upon the pillow and groaned. “I must see him.”
“You are fortunate, he brought ye home. You were struck by an arrow and your head was cut open. I wasn’t sure if you’d survive, you’ve had the fever the past few days.”
“I was struck by an arrow? Is that why my shoulder hurts?”
She nodded. “Aye, I did a fair job of patching you up.”
“You cared for me?” Why did those words echo in his mind? She cared for him and tended his injuries? He had no idea she was so skilled.
“I believe your fever has finally receded. You must rest until we’re sure. You’ll be well in no time.”
Isabel leaned forward, feelin
g his head. Her hair brushed his cheek when she turned, and he smelled the light flowery fragrance. He groaned again.
“Are you in pain?” She leaned both hands on the side of the bed.
“Nay.” He wouldn’t admit that the pain he felt was in the lower extremities of his body. “Will you get Burk now? I need to speak with him.”
“You should rest before you attend your duties, Douglas. You’ll get upset and—”
“I must see to my clan. Please, get Burk,” he practically shouted. He thought about moving from the bed and getting him himself, but he was weak. When he tried to sit up, she pushed him back with little effort. His stomach flipped and he thought he’d spill his guts. A light thumping began to drum in his head.
“Very well, I’ll get him. I’m glad you’re well again. You really worried me.”
He reached up, pressing his hand against her cheek. She pulled away from him, and went to fetch Burk. He watched her hair sway behind her.
“Damn me, the lass let her hair down.” He knew there was something different about her.
He reached for the pewter pitcher on the table next to him, and drank the contents, chugging it. The liquid tasted bitter and made him gag. He’d thought it was water, and couldn’t put it back on the table fast enough.
Burk came in the chamber, smiling. “I’ll be damned, she didn’t kill ye.”
“Nay, why would she do that?”
“I’ve never dealt with such a formidable lady, Laird Kerr.”
“She’s not like that, Burk. She’s sweet and bonny.”
Burk’s booming laughter sounded across the room. “We are speaking of Isabel Calvert, are we not?”
“Aye, we are.” Douglas grinned. He thought Burk might have been injured, but he appeared sound, except, of course, for his odd comment about Isabel.
“She’s a bonny lady, but sweet? I wouldn’t know about that. I was afeard she’d do me in, if I didn’t comply with her demands. She’s been downright onerous and fearsome.”
Claimed By A Charmer (The Pith Trilogy) Page 17
