by Ava McArthur
“He hates doing accounts,” Lorna said, shaking her head. “We would have more luck training him to pull a plow!”
Elspeth laughed, but it was a hollow, worried sound. She got to her feet, but Lorna held a hand up to stay her. “Let him calm down,” she advised. “He is not angry often, but he does the job properly when he is!”
The two women sat talking in a desultory fashion for a while, but eventually Elspeth’s impatience got the better of her. She wanted to be lying in Niall’s arms, not making small talk with her mother-in-law. After a decent time had elapsed, she excused herself and made her way to the bedroom, where she found that Niall was soundly asleep. A quick look at the half-empty whiskey decanter by the bed showed her the reason. She laid down beside him, wondering what had upset him so much that he had had to drink himself to sleep. Surely it was not just dealing with the boredom of tallying the household accounts?
She decided to speak to him in the morning.
Niall felt the pounding in his head even before he opened his eyes. There was a strange wheezing, hacking sound very close to his ear and at first, he thought it was part of his nightmare. He groaned in agony and turned over, opening one eye very cautiously. He did not realize what he was hearing, but with a jolt of fear he realized that the sound of labored breathing was coming from Elspeth, who was lying on her back, gulping at the air with harsh, choking gasps.
Elspeth was lost in a nightmare:
Niall was standing behind her at the stream, but instead of letting her drink, he was pushing her in, and the water was hot, so much so that it was beginning to burn her. There was steam curling up from it, and it smelled like sulphur, settling into her lungs and choking her. Her skin was prickling with heat. Niall was speaking to her, calling her name and asking her to wake up, but when she answered, no words came out—at least none that made sense. She was sweltering and begged Niall to get her out of the burn, but he kept pouring more and more hot water over her; it was almost unbearable.
Niall was instantly awake, his headache forgotten as he saw the moisture on her hot, flushed skin. He touched the back of his hand to her forehead and found that it was burning with fever, even though she was trembling with cold.
Memories of his brother rushed back to him like a blow to his stomach. He had lost one loved one; he could not lose Elspeth too.
He leaped out of bed and bent over her. Her eyelids fluttered open, and he observed that they were glazed and unseeing. “Elspeth,” he said desperately, patting her cheek to try to rouse her. She moaned and turned over on her side, but showed no signs of waking from her half-conscious state.
“I will be back, my love,” he whispered as he kissed her burning cheek. He threw on his kilt and raced out into the passage, calling for Catriona, who appeared almost instantly. “Come quickly!” he cried. “There’s something wrong with Elspeth.”
Catriona took one look at his panicked face and ran into their bedchamber. She felt Elspeth’s forehead, and became gravely worried. “She is very sick, M’Laird,” she said grimly. “I think we should send for Mistress Maggie.”
At that moment, Elspeth gave a long, tortured groan and began to retch painfully. Niall was just in time to thrust a chamber pot under her chin before she emptied a torrent of vomit into it.
He felt a great surge of fear. “Go and see if she is in the castle,” Niall instructed the maid. Catriona scurried away and returned a short while later with the healer, who took one look at her patient and began to fire questions at Niall.
“Has she been eatin’ anythin’ different fae usual?” she asked.
Niall shook his head. “We ate the same things, and I am fine.”
Maggie frowned at Elspeth again. “Where did ye go yesterday, M’Laird?” she asked anxiously. “Did milady eat any strange plants?”
“No, but she drank from the burn.”
Maggie nodded in a satisfied manner. “That is it, then, M’Laird,” she said. “She has caught somethin’ fae the water. A’ the animals fae the Grants’ farm drink near there. It is likely somethin’ she picked up there.”
Elspeth was violently sick once more, and Maggie instructed Catriona to fetch a bucket in case she needed it again. She ordered a maidservant to build up the fire, close the curtains, and put more blankets on the bed. In minutes, the room was stifling and Niall’s body was running with sweat.
Niall frowned. “You did all this for Craig and it did not work,” he observed critically.
“I have nae power over God, M’Laird,” Maggie answered. “He decides who lives an’ who dies. I can only dae my best.” She was putting another blanket on the bed as she spoke.
“Do you think she could have been poisoned?” he asked fearfully.
“Milady?” Maggie laughed. “I know of naebody in the castle that doesnae love her, M’Laird. An’ I know of naebody in this place wi’ the skill tae prepare poisons.”
She went to fetch a goblet of medicine and gave it to Elspeth on a spoon while Catriona held her head.
“What is that?” Niall asked.
“Willow bark tea, M’Laird,” Maggie answered. “It helps wi’ the pain.”
Niall was familiar with the remedy. Still, he worried about the need for the unbearable heat in the room, then he told himself that the healer obviously knew better than he did. He sat down by Elspeth’s bed, praying frantically and promising God that he would be a better man, work harder, spend more time in church, and give more to the poor if only He would let Elspeth live. Niall waited, seeing her head thrashing about on the bed, watching rivers of sweat running from her, listening to her incoherent mumblings until he could bear it no more. The heat in the room was beginning to make him feel dizzy, but he could not stand the thought of leaving; what if she woke up and looked for him?
Catriona appeared at his shoulder and said gently, “M’Laird, go an’ take a walk. I will sit wi’ her for a while. She is used tae me an’ will no’ be scared if she opens her eyes an’ finds me here.”
Niall nodded, seeing sense in this. He kissed Elspeth once and looked tenderly into her face, then left.
As soon as the cool air in the passage hit him, he breathed a sigh of relief. He could not think properly while he was so overheated, and needed to clear his mind. He had come to dinner the previous day in very bad humor; he realized now that it was not because he had had to do the estate’s accounts, although that was part of it, but because he and his chief had a disagreement and the man had told him that he was lazy. He informed Niall in no uncertain terms that he needed to pay more attention to his responsibilities instead of fighting imaginary battles in the courtyard.
At the time, Niall had been seething with anger, partly because the accusation had been flung at him repeatedly, but mostly because he knew it to be true. However, as he saw his wife struggling with a fever like the one that had killed Craig, he felt ashamed. He should be working for her; he should be trying to be a better man—and instead, he was still playing soldiers like a boy.
Now, as he looked down from the battlements at all the land that he owned, he knew he had to change—for Elspeth, his mother, the estate, but most of all for himself and the children they might have in the future. He never wanted them to be ashamed of him.
When he entered the bedroom again, a blast of unbearable heat hit him. Catriona was sitting patiently beside Elspeth, her hair damp and cheeks flushed crimson and shining with moisture. If possible, Elspeth looked even worse. She had stopped shaking and was utterly still.
Suddenly, something in Niall snapped. Maggie was no longer in the room, so he made a decision on his own.
“Catriona, help me,” he ordered. “Strip these blankets off her and open the window just a little. We must cool her down.”
“But M’Laird, Mistress Maggie said we must keep her warm!” Catriona protested.
“I do not care what she said,” Niall replied grimly. “She used the same treatment on my brother and look what happened to him. Do as I say, Catriona.”
> Catriona looked at him doubtfully, but obeyed his orders and pulled back the thick layer of blankets that were covering her mistress. Niall banked the fire down, and within a few moments, the chamber had gone from being very hot to tolerably warm.
Elspeth began to shiver, but in a short while, her eyelids fluttered open, and she stared directly at Niall with clear, unglazed eyes. “What happened?” she asked weakly, looking around herself with a puzzled gaze. “Niall, why am I in bed?”
A wave of pure relief swept over him, and Niall took both her hands in his and kissed them, closing his eyes in a silent prayer of thanks. “You have been sick, Elspeth,” he murmured. “You had a fever.” He placed a hand on her forehead and found it cool and damp. “But thank God you seem to be better now.” He breathed a sigh of deep relief and smiled at her.
“You were thinking of Craig, were you not?” she asked him softly.
He nodded slowly, but as he looked at her, he could not see sadness anymore, only hope and happiness. Elspeth was not leaving him, thank God.
11
Hope
When Maggie came back into the room, she looked around at the smoldering fire, the heap of blankets at Elspeth’s feet, and the half-open window, and began to seethe with anger.
“Why are the blankets off, M’Laird?” she asked Niall indignantly. “Do you no’ want milady tae get well?” She moved to place the bedclothes onto her patient again, but Niall stopped her by grasping her wrist.
“As soon as we took them off, she started to get better,” Niall informed her. “She needed to cool down, not heat up.”
Elspeth tried to sit up. She smiled weakly at Maggie, who put her hand to her chest in astonishment.
“Milady!” she gasped. “This is a miracle! I have never seen the like o’ it before. How do ye feel?”
“I am not yet feeling quite my old self yet, Maggie,” Elspeth replied, coughing a little. “But much better than I did this morning, and I have no doubt that it was due to your treatment.” She smiled at the healer kindly.
“Thank ye, milady,” Maggie smiled at her. “I was glad tae be o’ help, but do not forget that there are evil spirits everywhere. Maybe ye should have the chamber blessed just tae be sure.” She crossed herself.
“We will call in the priest,” Elspeth assured her. Her voice was still weak and scratchy. “It can do no harm.”
Niall, however, had his doubts. Privately, he wondered if Maggie had been completely ignorant of how to treat his wife, and had merely carried on with the same treatment she had used a hundred times before, hoping that it would work. He had no faith at all in the idea that evil spirits had made Elspeth ill. He was a religious man, but he was also a rational one.
Maggie shot a doubtful glance at Niall, who took no notice of her at all. He was too busy gazing at Elspeth. After a moment, he roused himself and began barking orders for sheets to be changed, the buckets to be emptied, and the room to be cleaned.
He picked Elspeth up and said softly, “We need to get you out of this nightgown.”
“Not yet, Niall, please,” she begged with a twinkle in her eye.
He laughed and kissed her softly. “I see you are feeling better,” he remarked.
He sat down and held her on his lap while the room was quickly tidied and the sheets replaced. Niall ordered a bath for Elspeth and waited while Catriona sponged her down and put her back to bed, then they were left alone. Niall had looked at his wife’s naked body during her maid’s ministrations, but for once he felt no sense of thrilling desire; only a deep thankfulness that she was still with him.
“Now, you must have a proper sleep,” Niall advised. “You need to recover your strength.”
“I will.” She smiled at him drowsily. “I wonder what caused the sickness?”
Niall shrugged. “It could have been many things. Maggie has no idea. She suggested evil spirits, and I even asked her if you could have been poisoned, but she laughed at me.”
“Who would want to do that?” Elspeth frowned. “I have no enemies as far as I know.”
But I might, Niall thought. However, he said nothing. He wrapped his arms even more tightly around his wife. The thought that Elspeth might have been poisoned terrified him, and he was determined to take more care of how her food and drink was prepared from that time onwards. Perhaps, as Maggie had suggested, the illness had been caused by something natural, but he was taking no chances. Elspeth had become the most important person in his world, and he would never let her go. He felt a sudden, fierce burst of rage; God help anyone who tried to harm his wife!
They lay in silence for a long time before Niall spoke again.
“Elspeth?”
“Yes, Niall?” She looked up at him, and seeing how worried he looked, she kissed him softly.
“I thought you were going to die,” he confessed.
“I thought so, too, for a while,” she replied. “I was so very hot. I never want to go through that again. But I am fine now. You and Maggie cured me.”
She remembered Craig’s sickroom, and it occurred to her that he must have felt the same way. Niall had asked her if his brother had suffered, and she had been unable to tell him, but she could tell him now. Craig had suffered an agonizing death, but she would never breathe a word of it to Niall. Thinking of his brother in so much pain would hurt him deeply, and she would never do that to him. He was becoming far too precious to her.
Niall said nothing more to her about the sickness, but he did not leave her side for the rest of the day. When dinnertime came around, she urged him to go and sit with Lorna.
“Catriona will be with me,” she insisted. “I could not eat a thing, but your mother needs you, Niall. She must be almost as frightened as you were. Go to her, please.”
Niall hesitated a moment longer, then nodded slowly. “I will, but I insist that no one but Catriona sit with you ’til I get back.” His tone was stern and insistent, and as Elspeth looked into his golden eyes, she suddenly realized how afraid he had been.
He kissed her tenderly, his lips caressing hers and arousing her desires again. She was astonished; she felt weak and thought she might never be able to eat another morsel in her life, but this husband of hers could still arouse an appetite that had nothing to do with food. She watched his tall, masculine figure as he left, and marveled for the hundredth time that he was hers, now and forever.
Just outside the bedroom door, Niall met Catriona. “Please take good care of her, Catriona,” he begged. “I am afraid for her health. Does she usually suffer much illness?”
Catriona shook her head. “It is the first time I have ever known her tae be ill, M’Laird,” she replied, “an’ I have known her since she was twelve years old.”
“I am very afraid that something is amiss,” he sighed. “But I cannot put my finger on what it is. Please, please look after her. I will be back as soon as I can.”
“I will dae my best, M’Laird,” Catriona promised, smiling. “I have looked after her a’ these years an’ she is still with us. Naebody will get past me, dinnae fear.”
Niall nodded and patted her shoulder, then went to join Lorna in the dining room. Catriona’s gaze followed him, and she liked what she saw. The laird was a strong man, and he would always protect what was his. Elspeth could not be in safer hands.
“How is she?” Lorna jumped up from the table and threw her arms around her son, who embraced her tightly in return.
“Her fever has broken,” he answered with a thankful sigh. “The signs are good that she will make a full recovery. I am so thankful, Mother. I prayed as I have never prayed before. I cannot lose Elspeth, especially so soon after Craig.”
Lorna put her hand over her son’s on the table. “You love her,” she said softly.
It was a statement, not a question, and he looked at her in astonishment. He could not be in love; it was too soon. They had hardly had time to get to know each other yet, and even if their bodies adored each other, it was too early to be certain about the
ir hearts.
Niall shook his head. “Mother, we have not been together long enough to know. I care for her, and she is a very kind woman, but love? I do not know.”
I do, Lorna thought. She could see it in Niall’s eyes and hear it in his voice every time he looked at his wife and talked to her, and when he said her name, it lingered on his tongue as if he was savoring it. He touched her constantly, sometimes without realizing he was doing it. He could deny it all he wanted, but Niall McLaren was hopelessly and irrevocably in love. All he had to do was realize it, accept it, and he would be the happiest man in the world.
“I wonder if our healer is as skilled as she tells everyone she is,” Niall said doubtfully as he poured himself a glass of wine. “Elspeth was burning with fever, and all she wanted to do was make her hotter.”
“Have more faith, Son,” Lorna urged. “I have always heard that the best way to cure a fever was to break it by doing just what Maggie did. She has delivered more babies and cured more sickness than you or I will ever know, but she is not God. Only He decides who lives and who dies. Now, please eat.”
Niall realized that he was desperately hungry, but he did not want to be away from Elspeth for too long, so he began to shovel down his food with unseemly haste.
“She will still be there after your dinner,” Lorna said, smiling. “By the way, I hear that you went to meet some of the tenants yesterday. Did you enjoy the experience?”
“Yes, I did, but Elspeth enjoyed it even more. She met a newborn baby for the first time.” He laughed. “Mother, you should have seen her face. She was so happy!”
“And so were you, judging by your face,” Lorna remarked, her eyes twinkling. “I take it I will be a grandmother soon?”
