Highlander's Sinful Desire (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance)

by Maddie MacKenna

  They laid Taran down on his bed. Rowena removed his boots. She said, “We cannot stand by doing nothing until the physician gets here. I’ll do what I can for him while we wait.” She squeezed his hand reassuringly.

  Just then, Lady Dierdre swooped in, her gowns making a swooshing sound as she crossed the floor to Taran’s bed. She looked at him, then at Malcolm. “What happened here?”

  Malcolm said, “Bit by an adder in the garden.”

  She looked at Taran with her hands on her hips and said, “In the garden! What the devil were ye doin’ in the garden?”

  Taran moaned and closed his eyes.

  Rowena excused herself and went to her room to retrieve her own herbs. She picked out a few herbs from the assortment of fresh ones that she had collected from Taran’s gardens. Then she ran to the kitchen and grabbed a few items that she knew would help. She found the emergency cabinet in the kitchen and was thrilled to find a small vial of opium poppy there.

  When she returned to Taran’s room with her arms loaded with supplies, she found Lady Dierdre standing over Taran with a knife. She held the knifepoint at the bite wound. “Stop! What are you doing, Lady Dierdre?”

  Lady Dierdre said, “I’m goin’ to cut it open and suck out the poison.”

  “No!” Rowena snatched the knife from her hand and handed it to Malcolm. “That will only cause infection. And the poison can make you sick as well! Let me take care of this until the physician arrives.”

  Lady Dierdre was flabbergasted. She lunged at Rowena. “I cannae have ye English cow treatin’ me betrothed! Ye’re a nun! Ye daenae what ye’re doin’!”

  Rowena said, “Oh, but I do know what I’m doing. Malcolm, please take Lady Dierdre outside until I’m finished here.”

  Malcolm took Lady Dierdre by the arm. As he led her out of the room, she shrieked at Rowena. “If he dies, we’ll kill ye!”

  Auntie Lili stood watching, aghast. Rowena put her hand on Taran’s forehead. He was already sweating and was probably going to become very feverish. Rowena said, “Auntie Lili, I’d like you to keep him comfortable. Use this cloth to wipe his face while I apply salve to the bite.”

  “Aye, lass,” she said, and began wiping his face with a damp cloth.

  Rowena used a cloth soaked with water and vinegar to clean the bite. Taran groaned when she touched it. He jerked his leg away from her. “Och, Sister that is painful! What’re ye doin’ to me?”

  “Taran!” Rowena scolded him. “You’ve got to be still. Don’t move your leg around too much, you’ll spread the poison through your body! You don’t want it going into your heart and lungs!”

  Taran’s face was soaking wet. “Och, me Laird,” he groaned. Auntie Lili sobbed.

  Rowena said, “Auntie Lili, hold his leg so he can’t kick when I touch it. Taran, you may know that the bite of an adder is rarely lethal. However, if you move around you will spread the venom into your organs and it can then kill you. Now be still and let me clean it for you.”

  Taran grew still. Rowena explained what she was doing. “I’m using water and a little vinegar to wash it out. It is painful, but we can’t let it get infected. The infection is more dangerous than the venom.”

  She saw that his ankle was already swelling. The bite area felt hot to the touch and the skin around it was as red as Lady Deirdre’s hair. She saw bruises beginning to appear. Rowena knew his whole leg would soon look the same way. At the rate these symptoms were appearing, Rowena suspected that Taran had a heightened sensitivity to the venom. That would explain his labored breathing and swollen mouth. If so, his condition was potentially grave.

  As Rowena flushed it with water and vinegar, Taran clenched his teeth and groaned loud and long. He sounded like a bear caught in a trap. Rowena murmured softly to him, reassuring him as she worked. “There now, that’s it, Taran . . . I’m doing the other one now. You’re doing fine . . . I’m nearly finished now.”

  When she finished cleaning it, she put some mint, rue, and yarrow in a bowl and ground it to a paste with a pestle she found in the kitchen. She added some wine to the mixture and applied it to the bite wound. Taran was staring at the ceiling with sweat running down the side of his face. His color had turned pale, even a little green. He said, “Me body is on fire, Sister.”

  Rowena needed to give him something to help him sleep despite the pain. In the same bowl, she crushed some opium poppy to a powder. She added some wine. Taran’s breath became wheezing. He said, “I feel am going to vomit.”

  Auntie Lili helped him sit up. She grabbed the wash basin and held it for him while he vomited until his stomach was empty. Then he retched. When he was finished, Rowena handed him the wine and opium mixture. “The snake’s venom is coursing through your body. Drink this,” she said. “It will ease the pain and help you rest.”

  He was so weak he could not raise his hands. Rowena held the bowl to his lips for him to drink. His lips and tongue were swelling from the effects of the venom. He dribbled as much as he drank. She felt his face with her hands. He was very hot, clearly feverish now.

  “Auntie Lili, I noticed a willow tree growing at the edge of the moat. Would you be so kind as to cut some limbs from it?” Rowena asked. It would help control Taran’s fever, and it would give Auntie Lili something to do.

  “Of course, dearie.” She laid the cloth on Taran’s forehead and left. While she was gone, Rowena sat beside Taran’s bed and prayed. O loving Lord and God, ever ready to listen to the prayers of thy servants, I most earnestly beseech thee to hearken to me. Please watch over Taran, they faithful servant, and restore his health. He is a good man. So many people love him and depend on his kindness. Please keep him in the palm of your hand. I beseech thee heartily, take him, a sinner, unto thy great mercy and grace.

  Taran heard her praying for him. He said, “Thank ye . . . for . . . that . . . Sister.”

  She asked, “How do you feel?”

  He could hardly speak. “ . . . Nae . . . good . . .”

  Rowena mopped his face with the cloth. Auntie Lili came in with some willow branches. Rowena sliced some hefty pieces of the willow and ground it with the pestle. She added wine to it and held it to Taran’s lips. “Drink,” she said. “This should ease your pain.”

  Taran drank it all, then collapsed back on his bed. Rowena said, “Get some rest now, sweet Taran.”

  She turned to Auntie Lili and said, “We should go. I’ve done everything I know to help him.”

  They left Taran alone to rest and closed his bedchamber door behind them.

  Out in the passageway, Auntie Lili said quietly, “Thank ye, Sister Rowena. I dae nae ken where the physician is, but I’m sure ye did a good job.”

  Rowena said, “Although I am not a proper physician, I had to learn about the healing arts at St. Martha’s. We were often asked to render aid to the poor sick townspeople who could not afford a proper physician. We grew our own herbs and received donations from the merchants in Newcastle. It was just one way we could serve the Lord our God.”

  Auntie Lili asked, “Have ye treated these bites before?”

  Rowena nodded. “Once before. The child survived, in case you’re wondering. I’ve also assisted on two other occasions when another nun tended to the victims.”

  Auntie Lili finally asked the question she cared most about. “Och, dae ye think Taran will recover?”

  Rowena said, “That is in God’s hands, Auntie Lili. Taran seems to be having a very bad reaction to the venom. Or perhaps he already has an infection. I cannot be certain. But the opium poppy should make him sleepy. He needs to sleep and let the willow help his body fight any infection. I will be back every hour to put a fresh poultice on the wound.”

  In the hall, Lady Dierdre was drinking hot tea, sulking. When Rowena walked in, Lady Dierdre sniffed. “So, how is our dear Taran?”

  Rowena answered her without any disdain. She reminded herself that Lady Dierdre was a child of God and Rowena’s job was to treat her with love and kindness. As much as
Rowena wished Lady Dierdre would stop hanging around the castle like a woman with nothing else to do, Rowena had to show compassion. Lady Dierdre was clearly a troubled soul. Rowena said sweetly, “He is resting. The venom is spreading through his body. We’ll know more tonight.”

  Lady Dierdre played with her teacup. “He is a strong man. I’m certain he’ll be fine by the morrow. If nae, ye best summon the witch from Motherwell!”

  Rowena ignored that remark and said, “Let us both pray for him, my lady.” She turned to Auntie Lili and said, “It would be a good idea if Taran’s valet would keep a fire going in his bedchamber. He must not get chilled. Would you be able to arrange that for him?”

  Auntie Lili said, “Aye, I will take care of that right now.” She was happy to have a reason to get away from the temperamental Lady Dierdre.

  At that moment, several children came running through the hall, calling for Sister Rowena to read them a story. She smiled and said, “Of course. Let’s go into the drawing room so we do not disturb Lady Dierdre.”

  The rest of the day Rowena spent taking care of the children. Each hour, she looked in on Taran. Sometimes he was awake, but delirious and mumbling nonsense. His body shivered with fever, and she wrapped him in blankets and furs to try to keep him warm. She did not know if his delirium was a reaction to the adder’s venom, or a sign of an infection, or the result of the opium poppy. Other times she found him sleeping deeply, almost comatose. His condition scared her. She feared he was going to die.

  On each visit, she washed out the wound with her vinegar mixture and applied a fresh herb poultice. By nightfall, he seemed to be worse. She could not wake him up to give him more willow mixture. His breathing was labored and raspy, as though a thousand pound weight was pressing on his chest.

  She hung a kettle of water by the fire. The water got hot in no time. She made herself a cup of tea and sat on a stool next to Taran’s bed. The valet had replenished his water basin with fresh cool water. She placed a hand on his forehead and confirmed that he was still burning with fever. She had to bring down his temperature.

  She soaked clean cloths in the water and held them to his forehead, cheeks and throat. “Taran,” she whispered, but he did not respond. Over and over she repeated this process until well after midnight, but Taran’s condition remained unchanged. Rowena took his hand in hers. She rested her head on the edge of his bed and began to pray.

  24

  Mother Lenora was in the refectory sipping tea when one of the nuns burst in. “I beg your pardon, Mother Lenora. There is a messenger here to see Sister Prudence.”

  “Sister Prudence has not yet returned from Newcastle. She is not due back until the morrow,” Mother Lenora said. “Show him in. I’ll be right there.” Mother Lenora rinsed her cup and put it back in the cupboard in the wall.

  She went out to the reception hall and found a respectable looking man holding a merchant’s cap in his hand. With him was a younger man who resembled him. Most likely a father and son, or close relation, Mother Lorena surmised. “Good evening, gentlemen. I understand you are here to see Sister Prudence. She is out and will not return before the morrow. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Yes, Mother,” the older man said. “That would be so kind of ye... We have a message to deliver to Sister Prudence. Would ye see that she gets it?”

  Mother Lorena said, “Of course I will, sir.”

  “That would be wonderful. We have business to tend to early in the morning, and we should nae tarry. We’re wool merchants and we have to get to the port before the ship sails.” The merchant handed Rowena’s note to Mother Lorena.

  Mother Lorena took the note and without looking at it said graciously, “A wool merchant you say?” Mother Lorena thought quickly. A wool merchant is usually prosperous and would likely be a source of donations to the abbey. But what business would they have with Sister Prudence? She said, “We have room available, if you need a place to rest tonight. No charge, of course.”

  “Thank you, but that will nae be necessary. Perhaps next time we are in the area we will accept yer offer,” the merchant said with a polite bow.

  “Of course,” said Mother Lorena. “Please feel free to stop in any time.” Then she said, “I’m sorry, can you tell me your names? I’d like to know so we can recognize you when you come back.”

  The older man said, “Me name is Oliver Goode, and this is me apprentice, Christian Fox. We are wool dealers for the clan Robertson, of Frenich castle, in Loch Lomond.”

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Goode. And Mr. Fox.”

  Oliver Goode said, “Likewise, Mother Lorena. We should be on our way now.” He tipped his cap.

  “Wait! Please, let me offer you some of our ale and chicken soup.”

  “Why, thank ye, Mother Lorena. A bite to eat would do us some good.”

  “Excellent! Please, come in and sit down. The sisters will take good care of you.” As if on cue, a sister appeared in the doorway to the refectory and said, “Good evening, gentlemen. Please follow me.”

  Once they were gone, Mother Lorena looked at the note to Sister Prudence. It was unsealed. She had to know what business Sister Prudence was doing with wool merchants dealing in Scotland. Mother Lorena unfolded the note and gasped. It was in Sister Rowena’s hand. And there was her signature at the bottom. She read the note:

  My dear Sister Prudence:

  Do not worry. I have found refuge at the castle Frenich in Loch Lomond under the protection of the clan Robertson. The lord of the manor is Taran, a kind and generous man who has promised to deliver me safely to Iona. I will write you again once I have arrived there.

  Your loving Sister in Christ,

  Rowena

  Mother Lenora read the note twice to make sure she had read it correctly. She would deal with Sister Prudence when she returned from Newcastle. For now, she had to inform Lord Kensley of the whereabouts of his daughter.

  She knocked on the door of Lord Kensley’s room and burst in without waiting to be invited. He was sprawled on his bed with his injured leg stretched out in front of him. The nuns had determined his ankle was fractured. Like trained physicians, they had expertly splinted and wrapped it to immobilize it, but it was still painful.

  She waved Rowena’s note in front of him and said, “We found Rowena.”

  Lord Kensley said, “By Christ, that is good news! Where is she?”

  Mother Lenora handed him the note and said, “Read it for yourself.”

  When he read the note, Lord Kensley became furious. “What in blazes is that girl up to?!”

  “It seems she has run away, my Lord.”

  “How dare she defy me like this!” he boomed. “What impudence!”

  Mother Lenora said, “And I will discipline Sister Prudence as soon as she returns, I assure you. She obviously played some part in this.”

  Lord Kensley said, “I have got to go retrieve her. I will leave for Scotland tomorrow.”

  Mother Lenora said, “But Lord Kensley, your ankle. You cannot ride a horse in your condition!”

  Lord Kensley said, “Perhaps not. But I will find a wagon and ride in it.”

  Mother Lenora slapped her forehead. “I think I know just where you can find one.”

  She turned and headed to the refectory. Oliver Goode and Christian Fox would have a passenger to take back to Scotland with them.

  25

  Rowena jolted awake. She looked around and realized she had fallen asleep there beside Taran, still sitting on a stool with her head and shoulders propped on his bed. She heard Taran stir. He mumbled something she did not understand. “Taran? Taran?” she said, pushing his hair off his face. His skin did not feel feverish now!

  He mumbled again, and this time Rowena saw him blink a few times, then opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Rowena’s face, backlit by the firelight. Her eyes were wide, liquid and bright with hope that Taran’s fever had subsided. “Sister Rowena?” His voice was muffled, as though he was not
yet fully awake.

  “Yes! I’m here, Taran.” She felt his face and this time he did not feel feverish. She reached for a damp cloth and mopped his cheeks and brow gently. “How do you feel?” She asked.

  “Better now,” he said. He did not take his eyes off of her. “I’m glad ye’re here with me.”

  She took his hand and squeezed it. “I could not bear to leave you.”

  He took her hand in both of his and pulled her to him. All of their passions unleashed as he kissed her hard and deep. He plunged his tongue into her mouth where it probed, searched, and fondled hers.

  Rowena felt everything around her go still as her body burned hot with desire. Yet, she pulled back. “What is it, Sister?” he asked.