Lucy nodded and relaxed back in the bed, her eyes closing as Betty slid out of the room. She must have fallen asleep then, for when she next opened her eyes, the candle on the bedside table had burnt down to a stub and Tearlach was seated in a chair next to the bed, his head turned toward the window and the night beyond. Lucy’s gaze slid back to the table and the goblet she’d noted sitting beside the candle. She unconsciously licked her dry and cracked lips as she wondered if there was liquid in it.
“Are ye thirsty?” Tearlach stood and moved to collect the goblet. Easing to sit on the bed beside her, he then slid one arm behind her back to raise her up so he could press the goblet to her lips. Lucy drank greedily, but not for long. Tearlach soon pulled the glass away, concern on his face.
“Slowly, love. Yer stomach may just toss it back up do ye no’ go slowly,” he cautioned and Lucy’s eyes flickered at the term of endearment he didn’t seem to realize he’d used. She didn’t comment, however, he was raising the goblet to her lips again and her thirst took precedence at the moment. Drinking more slowly this time, she sipped from the goblet and swished the liquid around her mouth, making sure to wet every nook and cranny before allowing the soothing liquid to slide down her throat.
“Better,” Tearlach murmured, offering her a smile.
Lucy automatically smiled back around the goblet and nearly slobbered all over herself. Deciding smiling was something else that would have to wait, she forced it away and continued drinking in little increments of liquid until the goblet was empty.
“Do ye want more?” Tearlach asked as he lowered her back on the bed.
“Nay, thank you,” Lucy whispered. “I’d best see how this bit settles before I try more.”
Tearlach nodded and set the goblet back on the table, but didn’t move from the bed. Instead, he peered at her solemnly, taking in each feature of her face as if he’d feared he’d never see them again.
“Ye look better,” he announced after a moment and she laughed at the suggestion, knowing she probably looked a mess. She didn’t know how long she’d been feverish, but knew it had probably left her looking less than her best.
“Ye do,” Tearlach insisted with a frown. “Yer no’as pale as ye were. Ye looked near death’s door these last two nights.”
“I have been ill for two nights?” Lucy asked with surprise.
“Three if ye count the night we rode here,” Tearlach answered making her eyebrows rise, but she didn’t tell him she knew it had been more than a night that they’d traveled, that he’d swaddled them in blankets so that he could continue to ride in daylight.
“Thank you for bringing me to Betty,” she whispered.
He nodded, and then commented, “She’s as good a healer as ye claimed. I thought sure she widnae be able to save ye when we got here. Ye’d lost so much blood and were terrible pale.”
Lucy nodded, then her eyes widened with recall and she told him, “Heming escaped Rosscurrach.”
“Aye. Ye said as much ere we headed here.”
“Did I?” she asked with surprise, not recalling doing so. When he nodded, she asked, “Have you heard news? Has he reached his clan?”
Tearlach frowned and shook his head. “I’ve heard nothing, but two search parties ha’e stopped here for meals while we’ve been here, one was made up of Scots, so I’m guessing they’re still looking for him.”
“And the other?” she queried quietly.
“Carbonnel men,” he answered grimly.
Lucy merely nodded at this news. She’d known Wymon would still be hunting for them. In fact, she’d bet he was growing desperate by now. She was too dangerous to him to be allowed to run loose. The king wouldn’t take kindly to news that Wymon had murdered her brother.
She noted Tearlach glancing toward the window and followed his gaze, alarmed to see the first streaks of sunlight crossing the sky.
Reaching for his hand, she touched it to get his attention.
“The sun is rising, I know you have to go,” Lucy said softly, then frowned and asked, “where is it you are taking shelter here during the day?”
“The cellar,” Tearlach answered.
Recalling Betty saying that she’d had to tend her in the cellar the first day because he wouldn’t let her go, Lucy nodded and said, “You really should go.”
“Aye,” he agreed, but didn’t move, simply peering at her worriedly. “Yer sure yer all right?”
“Aye. I am fine. I am on the mend and will be up and about in no time,” she assured him and then bit her lip and added, “I know you must be worried about your cousin. There is no need to stay here with me if you wish to look for him and see to his well-being.”
Tearlach shook his head as he got to his feet. “He’s weel away by noo I’d think. I promised to see ye to court and the king and that’s what I’ll be doin’. After that is soon enough to meet up with me clan and discover what’s been about and what we plan to do about it.”
Lucy merely smiled, managing to hide her relief at his words. She would not lose him yet.
“Rest and mend, we’ll talk more tonight,” he promised, and then hesitated before bending to press his lips to her forehead. Lucy closed her eyes with a little sigh at the caress and promptly fell asleep. When she awoke again the room was full of sunlight and Betty was bustling about, humming a little tune under her breath.
“How long have I slept?” she asked with surprise, sitting up and scowling at how much effort it took to do so.
“You’re awake!” Beaming as if she’d done something especially clever, Betty rushed across the room to the bed.
“Aye,” Lucy agreed dryly. “I must have slept for hours. It was dawn when Tearlach said good night.”
“You’ve slept one full day and night and about three hours then,” Betty informed her.
“What?” Lucy gasped with horror.
“It was my potion,” Betty said apologetically. “I put it in your drink. I told Tearlach not to let you drink too much, but he thought I meant because you’d been without so long. He hadn’t realized I’d put a sleeping potion in the drink and let you drink it all. It made you sleep long and hard.”
Lucy started to close her eyes at this news, then forced them quickly wide open for fear she’d lose another day.
“‘Tis all right,” Betty said, patting her hand. “It should be out of your body by now.”
Lucy released a breath of relief and the maid smiled.
“It was probably for the best. Sleep is the best healer and you are looking like the long rest has done you good. You have more color and appear much more alert this time,” she informed her, and then asked, “how do you feel?”
“Hungry,” Lucy said promptly and Betty laughed softly.
“That is always a good sign, my lady. You’ll be up and about in no time. I shall go fetch you some broth.”
Lucy scowled as the door closed behind the maid. She’d said she was hungry. Broth would hardly cure that, but she suspected the maid wouldn’t let her move to solid food until she was literally up and about. Setting her teeth determinedly, Lucy slid her legs off the bed and slowly levered herself to her feet.
The thump of an empty barrel hitting the floor brought Tearlach awake with a start. Turning his head, he found William casting an apologetic wince his way from the opposite side of the cellar.
“I’m sorry, Tearlach. It slipped out of my hands.”
He waved away the apology and ran a hand through his hair as he sat up on the pallet they had set up for him in the inn’s cellar. “‘Tis all right, the sun has nearly set anyway.”
William’s eyebrows rose at his words. “How is it you always know that?”
“I am no’ sure,” Tearlach admitted as he stood. “It has always just been that way.”
“Hmm,” William muttered and turned to move the empty barrel next to several others in the corner.
Knowing the man would be expected to bring up a fresh barrel to replace the empty one, Tearlach crossed the room to
get it for him. He was hefting it onto his shoulder when Lucy’s stable master turned around.
“‘Tis all right, I can do that,” William said, hurrying to his side when he saw what Tearlach was about.
“As can I,” he answered mildly and then shrugged. “‘Tis little enough effort in return fer all ye and Betty ha’e done for Lucy and me.”
“She’s our lady,” William said quietly.
“But I am no’,” Tearlach pointed out with a smile and turned to lead the way upstairs to the main floor of the inn. Despite the danger of being seen, he carried the barrel through the kitchen and out into the main room, walking quickly around behind the bar to set it down.
“Thank you, my lord, and good evening to you,” William’s brother greeted him as he straightened. Harold was rather barrel shaped himself, but otherwise was an older version of his brother.
Tearlach nodded a greeting, then turned and headed for the stairs, thinking just to check on Lucy before returning below to don his boots and sword.
“If it’s Lucy you’re looking for, you’ll not find her up here,” Betty announced with annoyance as she started down the stairs toward him.
Pausing on the first step, Tearlach raised his head to glance at William’s wife, his gaze full of surprise. “I willnae?”
“No,” Betty said grimly. “She is up and about despite my best advice and presently out in the stables.”
“The stables?” he echoed with horror.
“Aye. She wanted to take Trinket a carrot.”
“But—” Tearlach paused, briefly at a loss. Finally he snapped, “She shouldnae be oot o’ the inn. What if Carbonnel’s men come? She could be spotted.”
“Aye,” Betty agreed dryly as she reached the step above him and paused. “Mayhap if you tell her that, she will listen. She does not seem to want to listen to me.”
Ignoring the mutters that followed about her lady being stubborn and bullheaded, Tearlach turned and hurried out of the inn. He crossed the courtyard at a quick clip and burst into the stables only to find it apparently empty. About to turn and march back out, Tearlach paused when the soft murmur of a woman’s voice reached his ears.
Eyes narrowing, he followed the sound, not terribly surprised to find it led him to Trinket’s stall. Pausing outside the stall, he peered over the door to see Lucy seated in the straw before the horse, holding up the last of a carrot for the mare to take.
“Lucy,” he said shortly and she glanced up toward him with a start, then smiled brightly, and hopped to her feet.
“Oh, hello, Tearlach. Is it sunset already?” she asked, unhooking the stall door and slipping out to stand before him.
“Aye,” he growled, scowling in the face of her good cheer. He opened his mouth to berate her for being out here where she might be seen by a passing search party, but found himself distracted when she slid her arm through his and turned him toward the door of the stables.
“I know I should not have risked coming out here, but I was very careful. I even made William check the lane to be sure no search parties were approaching ere hurrying across the courtyard to the stables,” she informed him solemnly, and then added, “I just wanted to see Trinket and reassure her all was well. I usually visit her every day whether intending to ride or not so knew she must feel neglected. Besides,” she added with a grimace, “I needed a moment to myself without Betty hovering over me like a mother hen. She is not happy with my being out of bed and has been scowly faced all afternoon. Rather like you are right now,” she added with amusement.
“I am no’ scowly faced,” Tearlach protested.
“Aye, ye are. Yer scowling right noo,” Lucy teased, imitating his accent.
Pausing, he turned a narrow-eyed look her way. “Are ye makin’ fun o’ me, lass?”
“Just a little,” she assured him with a soothing smile, then urged him to continue walking. “When can we leave for court?”
“Eager to be free o’ me already, are ye?” Tearlach asked dryly and she turned wide horrified eyes his way.
“Nay!” she assured him. “I just thought...Well, I know you have responsibilities...You...I am not eager to be rid of you,” she said finally. “But I know you are worried about your cousin and need to get news of your own well-being to your family and clan. It is only me who has kept you from already doing so.”
Tearlach opened his mouth to speak, but paused as they heard what sounded to be a large party riding into the courtyard. Gesturing for her to wait where she was, he turned and crossed the rest of the distance to the stable doors to peer cautiously out.
Of course, Lucy didn’t listen to him. Tearlach rolled his eyes with exasperation when he felt her press up against his back and lean out to peer into the courtyard. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the men in the courtyard. There were half a dozen of them, all wearing Carbonnel colors.
Another search party then, he thought with displeasure. It was the fifth in the few days that they’d been at the inn. Two more had stopped in during Lucy’s prolonged sleep. Wymon had obviously stepped up the search in this area.
William had told him that they had seen none of Carbonnel’s men ere the day Tearlach had ridden in with both he and Lucy wrapped in blankets. He supposed his attack on the men where he’d got the blankets had given them away. He’d come upon them before dawn, catching them sleeping. The fools hadn’t bothered to leave one of their rank to stand guard and had been easy prey.
He’d fed well, taken the blankets, and left them unconscious but alive for Lucy’s sake. She hadn’t been conscious herself at the time, but he hadn’t wanted to have to lie to her if the matter should come up later.
Now he wished he’d killed the men and hidden their bodies. The two men at the bothy by Rosscurrach had probably been found by now and news of them might have reached Wymon and encouraged him to concentrate his search efforts to the north. However, leaving the men in the camp alive had obviously revealed that they were in the area and Wymon had stepped up his hunt for them here. The Englishman probably had men searching all along the way between Blytheswood and court now. He’d expect Lucy to be heading that way and would be desperate to stop her.
Tearlach took a moment to curse his lack of forethought in leaving the men alive. If he hadn’t been eaten alive with worry for Lucy, he surely would have considered the situation more carefully and taken care of the matter properly. The trip to court would now be more difficult than it need be. They would have to stay off the paths, avoiding villages and other travelers along the way—if they ever even got to head for court and were not discovered here in the stables, he thought with a scowl as he watched William greet the men in the courtyard.
“Can I take your horses for you, gentlemen?” William asked as he reached the party of riders.
Several men moved as if to hand over their reins, but paused when one of them, the oldest and obviously the leader, narrowed his eyes on William and said, “You look familiar.”
Tearlach held his breath as Blytheswood’s stable master shrugged and said mildly, “I must have one of those faces. Many people say that.”
“Hmm.” The soldier continued to stare at him a moment, then gestured to his men and turned away. “We’ll see to the horses ourselves.”
The other men raised their eyebrows at his words, but no one protested and they all followed as he began to lead his mount across the courtyard.
Mouth tightening, Tearlach reached for his sword, only to curse when he found it missing. It was still in the cellar where he’d left it. He’d intended to go below and retrieve it after checking on Lucy, but the news that she was up and about and out in the stables had sent him hotfooting it out here to retrieve her. His foolishness had now left him unarmed and useless to defend her from their enemies, he realized grimly.
“Wait!” William cried almost desperately.
The men all paused and turned back to the stable master. A moment of silence passed during which Tearlach was positive the man was scrambling
to think of some way to delay the men. Fortunately, his hesitation wasn’t so long that the men appeared suspicious when he blurted, “Why do you not tell me what you’ll be wanting to eat and drink and I’ll go let them know inside so they can start preparing it.”
Tearlach didn’t wait to see if the stall tactic worked. If it didn’t, waiting would be time wasted.
Swinging away from the doors, he shot his gaze briefly around the stables until it landed on the hay loft at the back of the building.
Mouth setting, he caught Lucy by the arm and rushed her silently to the back of the long building. He had no need to explain what he wanted, the moment they reached the ladder she hitched up the skirt of the dress she wore and started to scramble up its rungs.
Tearlach was right behind her, his gaze shooting repeatedly over his shoulder to the doors to be sure they were not spotted. Fortunately, he saw no sign of the men before following her off the ladder and hurrying around behind the stack of bales.
Nine
Tearlach and Lucy settled swiftly in the loose straw behind the stacked hay. Both then sat completely still to prevent giving away their presence in the loft. Nerves stretched taut and ears straining, they listened tensely for sounds of movement from below.
William’s attempt to stall the men must have worked. That, or he’d come up with another way to delay them after Tearlach and Lucy had headed for the back of the stables. Whatever the case, another few moments passed in silence before they heard the creak of the stable doors opening. The shuffle of footsteps soon followed, along with the murmur of men’s voices.
Lucy and Tearlach waited tensely as the men worked below. It seemed to take forever for them to see to their horses, but finally their voices and footsteps moved away, fading into silence.
Wanting to be sure they’d not return, Tearlach raised a hand to his lips to warn Lucy to remain silent. She nodded and then they heard the door below creak again as someone entered. This time it was a single set of footsteps that reached their ears.
“My lady?”
Highland Thirst Page 25
