by Monica Burns
The Scotsman’s observation made Ewan frown with displeasure. The man was right. Even in the daylight it would be difficult to reach the physician without endangering someone’s life, even his own. The fact the woman’s teeth had begun to chatter and her trembling was worsening with each passing second indicated she would need care through the night.
“Then, I’ll have to care for her myself.”
“My lord?” McCallum eyed him with stern disapproval.
“Is there someone else in this infernal place who knows how to care for her if she develops pneumonia?” he snarled. “And have Asadi bring me my eye patch. The woman was terrified by the sight of me out on the moor.”
Without waiting for a response, Ewan climbed the steps. He glanced down at the woman in his arms. She looked as if she were already at death’s door. If? He snorted. Even with the limited training he possessed from his time in the Sudan, he could tell the woman was seriously ill. He was more than halfway up the stairs, when a slender figure in nightwear and a shawl wrapped around her shoulders appeared at the top of the steps.
“What has happened, Ewan? Who is she?” his aunt exclaimed.
“Go back to bed, Aunt Wallis.”
“But your mother sent me to see what the fuss was about.”
“It’s nothing my mother needs to concern herself with, and I’ve no time to explain.”
Ewan reached the top of the stairs and headed down the hall to the room McCallum had had prepared. Wallis ignored his command and followed close on his heels. His aunt was one of the few people he tolerated to have around him, and any other time he would not have spoken so harshly. But the fact his mother had sent his aunt to investigate the disturbance in the house irritated him beyond any patience he normally had.
Close on the heels of the thought, he quickly admitted he would rather have Aunt Wallis asking questions than his mother. The dowager’s caustic manner would only aggravate him more than he was already. He entered the King’s bedroom and set his charge down in one of the chairs facing the fire. As he struggled to undo the buttons on the front of her dress with his one hand, his aunt gasped loudly.
“You mustn’t, Ewan. It’s not proper.” At her protest, he slowly turned his head toward her.
“Would you have me leave the lass in these wet clothes? Now go report back to the Lady Argaty, and then go to bed.”
At his angry snarl, his aunt took a quick step back in apprehension. He immediately regretted his sharp words. With a grimace, he shook his head slightly and softened his voice. “The woman is seriously ill, Aunt Wallis. We both know that short of Dr. Munro, I’m the only one capable of caring for her. Send Mrs. Selkirk to assist me.”
The older woman hesitated before she nodded her head in understanding and left the room. Ewan’s free hand fumbled with the buttons on the woman’s dress, and he grimaced at the sight of Maggie in the doorway followed by Asadi. The maid eyed him with trepidation, which caused him to bow his head so she couldn’t see the mass of scars on his face. Where the hell was Mrs. Selkirk?
The boy who’d taken it upon himself to be Ewan’s valet, hurried across the room to offer him the black patch he wore routinely along with his glove. In a swift movement, Ewan covered his eye with the leather patch. He met Asadi’s gaze with his good one, and nodded toward the door. Without questioning the silent command, the boy darted out of the room.
“Help me undo the woman’s dress, Maggie.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Ewan saw the maid hesitate. In a deliberate move, he turned toward her and held up his artificial arm in silent explanation. The maid still didn’t move, and with a slight movement of his shoulder, he made the spindly metal fingers click together in an ominous sound. The maid flinched violently then jerked her gaze away from the grotesque appendage and hurried forward. In the back of his head, a voice reprimanded him for taunting the girl. He ignored his conscience.
Silently, he watched Maggie undo the woman’s dress then moved forward to help the girl remove the sodden wool garment off the woman. In the back of his mind, he noted that the woman’s clothing was that of a lady of quality. Black without any trace of color, he suspected she was in mourning. A husband perhaps? She wasn’t wearing a ring, so perhaps a relative.
He tossed the woman’s dress aside then held her up slightly so Maggie could quickly pulled the wet underskirts off the woman. When the maid undid the laces of the woman’s combination, the garment gave way to a wet chemise that clung to her as if she were naked. An odd sensation tensed his muscles as he couldn’t help but notice her sweet, lushly full curves. She had the body of Titian’s Venus of Urbino.
Rounded in all the places where a woman should be curved, his gaze drifted over her shoulders down to her breasts and the dark pink nipples the thin, linen chemise highlighted so enticingly. The tension in his body made him stiffen as his gaze continued downward to the apex of her thighs and her full, voluptuous legs. Incensed with his interest in the woman, Ewan looked away as the maid struggled to remove the last of his guest’s clothing. The woman’s shivers were still hard and fast, and as Maggie reached for the night dress she’d brought with her, Ewan shook his head.
“No. I’m certain the lass has a fever, and it’s better she not be restrained with anything but the bedsheets.” He saw the look of consternation on the maid’s face. “I will not be taking advantage of the woman, girl. Throw a blanket over her then turn down the covers so I can put her in bed.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The maid bobbed her head at his instructions, and despite his desire to do otherwise, Ewan managed to keep his gaze from skimming the woman’s naked body. When Maggie had covered the woman with a light-weight blanket off the bed, he carefully lifted his unexpected guest up into his arms and carried her to the bed.
Throughout the entire process, the only sound the woman made was her teeth chattering. Even against his dry clothing her body chilled his through his wool vest and jacket. Frowning with concern, he laid her on the sheets and allowed Maggie to cover her up to her neck. Despite lying beneath the dry covers, the woman’s body didn’t stop shaking. Ewan pressed the back of his hand against her forehead and grimaced. As he’d expected she was running a fever. It was a high one at that.
“Have Asadi bring me a pitcher of cool water, towels, and have Mrs. Selkirk prepare some peppermint tea and chicken broth.” Ewan gave the command as he tightened the covers around the woman. When the maid didn’t move, he turned his head toward her.
“Now, not tomorrow.” His fierce tone made the maid bob her head before she darted out of the room. Left alone with his charge, Ewan sat down on the side of the bed to study her.
A light coating of sweat glistened on her forehead, and he gently wiped it away with his fingers. Her hair was drying quickly, and it reminded him of the soft brown feathers on the heads of the kites that flew over the keep on a regular basis. A soft murmur drifted out of her, and he bent his head in an attempt to hear what she was saying, but her words were impossible to make out.
It was several minutes before Asadi appeared with the water and towels. The boy left them within reach then hurried out of the room to fetch the other items Ewan had demanded. Ewan soaked a cloth in the cool water, wrung it out, and proceeded to gently stroke the sweat from her forehead. As he tended to her, he narrowed his gaze at her oval-shaped face.
“Where do you come from, lass, and why were you out in the storm?” he asked softly.
Ewan continued his attempts to remove the perspiration from her forehead. When the woman’s shudders caused the pillow beneath her head to move into an awkward position, he gently lifted her head to push the pillow back into place inadvertently disturbing some of the hair near her forehead. He drew in a soft hiss of air at the bruise on the side of her temple.
Despite his efforts to cool her fever, her symptoms continued to worsen with each passing hour. As the woman’s fever deepened, she began thrashing beneath the bedcovers and tried to throw them off. Gently, he pull
ed her arms out from beneath the covers to provide her relief. He did the same for her legs. With the cool, damp clothes, Ewan wiped down her exposed limbs in an attempt to make her more comfortable.
He turned away for a moment to soak a cloth and wring it out before he shifted on the mattress to face her again. The moment he moved, he inhaled a sharp breath that he immediately exhaled as he stared at the bare breast exposed to him. The full, plump curve of it made his mouth go dry as the image of Titian’s nude filled his head again. The sensation it aroused in him was one he didn’t like.
With a growl of disgust at his reaction to her, he quickly drew up the covers over her again. Throughout the night, Ewan continued to remove the beads of sweat from her brow as her fever showed no signs of breaking. It was only when the first gray light of the day tried to push its way through curtains covering the bedroom windows that he realized his efforts might be a hopeless cause.
Although her fever had weakened, she was still hot to the touch, and he heard a soft rattle in her breathing. The mold out on the moor combined with the rain and cold could not have done her any good. But she was young, and she seemed in reasonably good health. He would not allow her to die without making every effort to save her. She stirred slightly as her eyes fluttered open. With the curtains closed, only the fire provided any light. The woman’s reaction when he’d found her on the moors had not left him, and he’d purposefully kept the room with as little light as possible.
“Lie still, lass,” he said quietly then crossed the room to retrieve some of the chicken broth Mrs. Selkirk had left on the hearth so the fire would keep it from going cold.
Before he filled a bowl with the broth, he pulled the glove from his pocket and pulled it on over the metal spindles that substituted as his hand. The broth was still warm, and he knew it would do the woman good to take some of it. Ewan returned to her bed, and there was a glassy look to the large hazel eyes staring up at him.
“You need to eat some of this broth. It will help to make you feel better.”
She didn’t answer and her eyes drifted close. Determined to have her take some broth, Ewan sank down on the edge of the bed. He awkwardly raised her up slightly so she was pressed into his chest. It allowed him to hold the bowl with his gloved hand while feeding her the warm liquid with his other.
His charge tried to avoid the spoon he pressed between her lips, but Ewan refused to let her do so. Once more she opened her eyes to look up at him. He wasn’t sure if he saw horror in her gaze or if it was merely the look of someone quite ill. Ewan ignored the thought. Although he only managed to have her take six or seven spoonfuls, he knew it was better than nothing at all. She needed liquids, and the broth served that purpose. When she refused to eat anymore, he laid her back down into the pillows and realized how damp her sheets were.
The idea of changing her sheets meant trying not to look at her sweet curves. The idea that he would succeed in doing so made him release a soft snort of disgust. Ewan sprang to his feet and quickly crossed the room to throw the door open. As he’d expected, Asadi was sleeping on the door’s threshold. The boy had still not grown accustom to the idea of an actual bed.
“Asadi,” he said quietly. The boy stirred slightly, but when Ewan said his name again, the young man was immediately on his feet.
“Yes, Argaty sahib?”
“The lass needs her sheets changed. Ask Mrs. Selkirk to bring fresh sheets so we can change the woman's bedding,” he said softly. The boy started down the corridor, and Ewan quickly clarified his command. “And tell Mrs. Selkirk she’s to come. I don’t want Maggie. The girl is scared of her own shadow.”
“Yes, Argaty sahib.”
Ewan returned to his patient and bent over to feel her forehead. It was still hot, but for the first time in hours it was a great deal cooler. He straightened and studied her for a moment. Even with her hair damp from her feverish sweat, she was lovely. What had driven her out onto the moors at night in the driving rain?
She stirred beneath the sheets, and he quickly bent over her to ensure they were up to her neck to prevent any other erotic displays. He didn’t like the effect the sight of her naked curves had on him. The woman was ill, and he was a sick bastard for enjoying the few glimpses he’d seen of her sweetly-curved figure. She opened her eyes as he busied himself adjusting her covers. The moment her gaze fixed on him, she shrank back into the mattress. Despite the dim light, he knew his close proximity gave her plenty to see, and she was clearly frightened by the sight of him.
“I’ll not harm you, lass,” he growled softly as he turned his head so she could only see his unblemished profile.
Her reaction wasn’t unexpected, but he didn’t like the way it made him feel. In the past year since his return from the war, he’d grown used to the way people responded to his damaged body. Ewan jerked upright and turned away to hide his deformities. Her reaction to his mangled body troubled him far more than it should have.
A quick glance over his shoulder revealed her eyes had closed again, and he drew in a deep breath then exhaled slowly. When their guest was out of the woods, Mrs. Selkirk and Aunt Wallis could tend to the woman until she was well enough to leave the keep. It would spare her any further horror when it came to his appearance.
His mother would no doubt vehemently protest the imposition of not having her sister at her beck and call. The idea of irritating the dowager countess sent a rush of vindictive pleasure through him. It would also give his aunt a short reprieve from his mother's habit of browbeating her sister. His gaze focused on the woman again, and he watched her carefully for a moment until he was certain she’d actually fallen asleep again.
Ewan crossed the floor to the window and pulled one of the curtains back slightly to look out over the landscape. It was still raining, almost as hard as it had been last night. Despite the gloomy weather, he still saw the beauty of the land he owned for as far as the eye could see. He’d always loved Argaty Keep, but it was difficult to take any pleasure from it given the pain within its walls. He looked back at his ill guest. She was a mystery, but he was certain the secret of who she was would be solved soon enough.
The soft knock on the bedroom door made him drop the curtain back into place so it closed out the daylight. The door opened and Mrs. Selkirk entered followed by Maggie. He grimaced at the sight of the young maid. He’d specifically told Asadi he didn’t want the girl in the room with him. The keep’s cook and housekeeper shook her head at him with a stern, silent look not to voice any objection. Like McCallum, Mrs. Selkirk had been at the keep since he was a boy and didn’t have any trouble taking him to task or overriding him in certain circumstances. The woman apparently considered this one of those moments.
“I brought Maggie tae help me with the sheets.”
“I could have helped you.”
“Ye are barely able tae stand, Master Ewan.” Mrs. Selkirk snorted with affectionate disgust as she berated him as she had when he was a child. “I want ye tae go tae bed. Ye have been up all night with the woman.”
“I should—”
“Get on with ye. We can see to her care well enough for a few hours.”
The woman’s firm, no-nonsense tone made him jerk his head in silent agreement, and he left the King’s Chamber. Once he reached his rooms, he undressed and slid beneath the covers. He had thought he would find it difficult to sleep, but he was asleep in seconds.
§ § §
“Argaty sahib.” Asadi’s voice echoed softly in his ear like a noisy fly. With a grunt he rolled away from the sound. Two scrawny hands rocked his shoulder. “Argaty sahib, it’s the woman. She is worse.”
Still groggy, Ewan lifted his head to stare at the young man. What woman was the boy talking about? He blinked several times as Asadi’s slender frame came into focus.
“You must come now, Argaty sahib. The woman is very ill.” Asadi’s words finally penetrated the fog of sleep, and Ewan stumbled out of bed to dress. In less than ten minutes he was crossing the floor of
the King’s Chambers to bend over his patient as if he’d never left the room. He’d been wrong to think her fever had passed.
“I don’t like the looks of her fever, my lord.” Mrs. Selkirk was standing on the opposite side of the bed with a look of deep concern furrowing her brow.
“How long has she been like this?”
“Not long, Maggie called for me as soon as the woman’s fever started again.”
“And how was she during the day.”
“She was restless off and on, but not much. She seemed tae have been sleeping peacefully until the fever returned.”
Ewan bobbed his head in understanding as he pressed his hand against the woman’s forehead. If possible, she seemed hotter than she had last night.
“Did she take any broth or water today?”
“No, my lord. She was unwilling to take even the slightest spoonful.” Mrs. Selkirk’s answer made him frown.
“Have Asadi bring fresh water and towels. I’ll stay with her until her fever breaks again.”
“Very well, my lord,” the older woman said quietly as she left the room.
When Asadi appeared with fresh towels and water, Ewan renewed his efforts to end the woman’s fever. The hours passed slowly as dusk blended into the deepest night. Toward the early hours of morning, her fever broke for the second time. This time there was something about her coloring that made him think she was over the worst of her illness. Although she was still pale, a small bit of natural color had returned to her cheeks.
Wearily, Ewan sank down into the over-stuffed chair he’d pulled closer to the bed. The action made him grimace slightly as he moved his amputated limb in the wrong direction. Before going to bed yesterday morning, he’d removed the mechanical device. He’d not been surprised to find the leather of his artificial arm had rubbed the skin raw where the device was attached to what was left of his arm.
Ignoring the pain, Ewan studied the woman sleeping quietly in the bed. There was something so peaceful about her that he decided to let her sleep some before he attempted to give her any broth. Head pressed into the back of the chair’s cushion, Ewan closed his eye to rest for just a moment. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but when he did he slept deeply. A sound pierced his sleep, and he jerked upright in his chair. As his gaze focused on his patient, he saw a small figure opposite him standing beside the woman, holding her hand.
