Returning with a small vessel, she sat down once more and began to combine the herbs. “You had business with Clan Breasal?”
“Uh…there is a wedding we were to attend. O’Malley’s heir and Breasal’s eldest daughter.”
Noelle’s heart jumped. If her identity was discovered, she would surely be forced to go back and marry. And that would be an impossible fate—one she could never submit to.
“Yes…I—I have heard.”
“Let me heat the knife for you.” Keir took the dagger and laid it in the fire, the handle protruding.
Noelle stirred the herbs carefully and put them into a folded cloth pouch, pulling the drawstring at the top. “We’ll need some hot water,” she murmured.
“Let me. I’ll take care of that. I need to help—however I can.”
Noelle nodded gratefully. “Once we get the water heating, the knife will be ready.”
Keir nodded and looked away. “I’d as soon be done with this. Let the healing begin. Damn, but I’m tired of war. I pray God this isn’t the death of my brother.”
Noelle put a comforting hand on his sleeve. “I’ll do all I can.”
****
It was done. Noelle sat in the chair beside the wounded man as his brother paced restlessly the length and breadth of the cabin until Noelle thought he’d wear a track in the floor.
Noelle studied her patient in the flickering firelight. Handsome, he was, in a rugged way. His nose was slightly crooked. Aye, it had been broken. Most likely, more than once. He had the look of a fighter—a man who would protect others at a high cost to himself…and wasn’t that what had brought him here? Protecting his younger brother—
“Do you know who attacked you?” Noelle looked up at Keiran.
“Well, lass, it wasn’t as if they had a standard bearer in their midst, but I would bet my life they were McTierney’s men.”
Noelle nodded. “But…why?”
Keir gave a mirthless chuckle and pulled out the other chair to sit across from her. “We are…O’Malley’s men. It’s no secret Dalon McTierney has also asked for the oldest daughter of the Breasal clan. But her mother had already made the agreement with my—with the O’Malley chieftain—that her daughter would wed his son.”
Noelle drew in a sharp breath. “And…is this Dalon McTierney set on having the lady at all costs—even to snatching her from under O’Malley’s nose?”
Keir’s eyes narrowed. “Clan O’Malley protects their own. My broth—my clan would never allow that to happen. Even though my lord doesn’t know his bride-to-be, he would lay down his life to protect her.”
“McTierney sounds viciously foul.”
Keir agreed with no hesitation. “Yes. Young Lady Breasal does not realize how Fate has favored her with marriage to O’Malley rather than McTierney. God have mercy on the woman he eventually weds.”
Noelle shivered at his words. He seemed to think a lot of his master, O’Malley. Moreover, there was something about Keiran Devlin that made her believe he spoke true.
“You must ride and warn the Breasals, Sir Devlin.”
If McTierney was bold enough to assault travelers on Breasal lands, and if what Keiran Devlin said was true about the man’s character—Noelle’s entire family could be in danger. Hostages were not unheard of…Isabel, or even one of her brothers, could be taken. If that happened, her mother would be forced to break the nuptial agreement with O’Malley in order to save one of her other children’s lives. And Noelle would be forced to return…she couldn’t allow one of her family members to be executed because she didn’t wish to marry…
She shook her head at the thoughts, and looked up to meet Keiran’s apprising gaze.
“Yes…” he said slowly. “I had thought to do so, if I can get out of here come dawn. My concern is for my brother, though. Is there a skilled healer in the Breasal kingdom?”
“Ask for Deirdre—” Noelle broke off at his knowing look.
“How is it you came to be out here—in the middle of nowhere—with snow falling…all alone…”
Noelle drew herself up. “That, sir, is none of your concern!”
Keir shook his head. “I disagree. If I’m to ride away from here and leave my brother in your care, I need—I need honesty. The land is filled with treachery, and he is precious to me.” He regarded her steadily, until she had to look away.
Ballocks! She didn’t even wince at the unladylike curse as it thundered in her mind. He’d learn who she was soon enough if he rode to Castle Breasal for help. They’d be out looking for her already, by now. Leaving the castle with fewer men…more vulnerable…
“I—I’m Noelle Breasal, Sir Devlin.”
His eyes widened, and then a smile quirked his lips. “Running from your own wedding?”
She nodded. “I—oh, nothing sounds right when I try to explain. I suppose I was in a panic…I only just learned of my mother’s plans for me yesterday. When I did, I thought only to run as far as I could.” She looked at her hands in her lap.
“They’ll ask after you when I arrive, of course.”
“Yes. And I know my sister, at least, will be sick with fear for what has happened to me.” She raised her eyes to him. “I will not abandon your brother, I swear. I will stay and care for him until he is able to ride—”
“I’ll be back before then, I imagine,” Keir said with a smile. “And, I believe you. I ride to Breasal only because it is some closer to us, my lady. My brother is my concern now.”
She nodded, and hastened to reassure him. “I understand. He is mine, as well, I assure you. I will do everything in my power for him until you return with Deirdre.”
****
Keir was gone with the first gray streaks of dawn light. The clouds still hung heavy and dark, but the snow had stopped, and the wind had abated.
Noelle watched him slowly lead his horse from the barn and re-check the cinch before mounting. He glanced toward the window and lifted a hand, then mounted and rode toward the forest path, away from the cabin.
Before long, he was lost from her view. She bit her lip, irritated with how things had played out. Her days of freedom were numbered. Mayhap, now, only hours of being able to do as she wanted were left.
And yet, she could not exercise free will, even now. She had sworn to Keiran Devlin to stay and watch over his brother—to care for him…she was alone with him. An unmarried woman and—a virile, battle-hardened warrior. She would have no reputation left when she was discovered and brought home to Castle Breasal.
She gasped as another thought followed on the heels of the one before. No reputation would mean—no wedding! To O’Malley or McTierney. Aye, the best she could hope for now would be that this Logan Devlin might someday be desirous of a wife—and be able to provide for her.
Somehow, she’d made things worse than she ever could have imagined by running from her responsibility to marry the O’Malley heir. She turned to look at the man who would prove to be her downfall—despite the fact that he’d been unconscious nearly since the moment she’d laid eyes on him.
He was watching her—and there was none of the fever-glaze in his dark eyes.
“Where…am I?” he muttered.
Noelle took a halting step toward him, her heart leaping at the clarity in his eyes.
“You’re safe, Sir Devlin. You suffered two wounds in a skirmish yesterday. Your brother brought you here to safety—” Noelle broke off, not wanting to say too much. Her habit of protectiveness instinctively took over. But it didn’t matter now, did it, if he knew who she was? His brother knew. And soon, she would have to own up to her identity—when they came to bring her home.
As if he’d read her mind, he asked, “And you…are?”
She moistened her lips. What ailed her? Why did she find it so hard to speak her own name?
“I am—Noelle.”
Logan’s expression altered slightly. His eyes widened briefly, and his lips thinned. “Noelle? Noelle Breasal?”
She nodded. He
closed his eyes and relaxed back into the bedding. “I’ll be…damned.”
They were both silent for a few seconds, then Noelle came near the bed, kneeling beside him. “Can I get you anything? Water?”
“I’m parched,” he admitted.
She stood quickly and set about pouring some of the melted snow into a cup.
“My brother—”
Noelle returned with the cup and seated herself in the chair beside him. She leaned over him and put her hand behind his head to help him drink.
“He rode to Castle Breasal for help,” she answered.
“He should…not have gone. I’ll be fine,” Logan murmured when he’d finished the water.
Noelle nodded. “I worry for his safety, with McTierney’s men so bold as to ride across Breasal lands and attack travelers as they did.” She watched him as she spoke. “Your brother told me he supposed the men who attacked you to be McTierney’s men.”
Logan gave her a long look. “Were they?”
Noelle sat back in her chair. “Of a surety, sir, they were not from Clan Breasal! We do not practice such a lack of hospitality.”
Logan studied her a moment longer, then nodded. “It would seem Lord McTierney is determined to have you, my lady. At any cost. Do you—do you share his…affections? Is it McTierney you wish to wed?”
“No! I don’t—” Noelle stopped and took a deep breath. “Sir Devlin, I do not wish to wed anyone. Not O’Malley, and certainly not McTierney!”
Logan remained silent until she continued.
“I only learned of my mother’s plans for me to wed O’Malley yesterday,” she said bitterly as she stood. “As if I am nothing more to her than a—a marker to call in when it is my time to do my part—in her eyes—to further the Breasal kingdom. Oh, if my father were still living—” Her voice caught as sudden, unexpected tears welled up in her eyes. She turned away quickly so Logan Devlin would not see her weakness. For could she trust him at all with something so personal? His brother had already admitted they rode under the O’Malley standard.
“He died in the spring, didn’t he?”
There was a kindness in Devlin’s voice that forced the tears even harder until they overflowed. “Y-yes.” She brushed away the traitorous moisture quickly, forcing her voice to normalcy. “Yes. He was taken from us by the fever. It set upon him in the winter and—and he never recovered. It was in April.” Her throat was raspy again. She stopped speaking. At least, until she could better control her emotions.
If only Logan wasn’t watching her with sorrow in his eyes, or speaking to her with the understanding she heard in his voice…
“I’m sorry, my lady. I—lost my mother. I know that pain.”
She turned to face him. “Oh! Recently?”
He gave her a slow smile. “No. When I was…much younger. A boy, I was, truly—though I thought myself a man at thirteen summers.”
“Were you—close with her?”
“Lads aren’t allowed that with their mothers—whether due to society or the need they feel to separate and become their own man. But she—always had a smile for me, a gentle word…She died in a riding mishap.”
“I’m so sorry—”
“It was a long time ago. But it changed my life forever.”
“As, it seems, my father’s death has changed mine.”
“Mayhap…the O’Malley won’t be as fearsome as you expect.”
Noelle looked away. Needing something to do, she walked to the small woodpile next to the hearth and laid another log on the fire.
“I’m not afraid of O’Malley,” she said, staring into the leaping flames. “But I do not love him. I do not even know him.” She turned, slowly moving back to the bedside once more and seating herself in the chair.
Her patient looked up at her with questioning in his eyes. “What is it ye wish to know about him?”
“Well…is he kind? Is he a good man? Will he love and cherish me? Oh—because I don’t believe I could bear it to chain myself forever to a brute of a man who had no kindness, no heart—”
“You need not worry, lass.” Logan reached for her hand and took it, enfolding her fingers in the warmth of his much-larger grasp. “O’Malley is—a good man, most believe. And fair. He will treat you well. Much better than ye’d fare at Dalon McTierney’s hands.”
Noelle was surprised at the steely anger that seemed to lace Logan’s words. But O’Malley was his liege, and of course he would be angry that McTierney would try to thwart the anticipated nuptials so unscrupulously.
“I fear for my family,” Noelle murmured, “now that McTierney has so brazenly come upon Breasal lands.”
Logan nodded. “Keir will travel as quickly as possible, but it will be slower than we might hope for. With the snow already fallen, and more threatening—”
“And with the knowledge that these lands are no longer safe—” Noelle added, “there’ll be no choice but to travel with great care.”
Logan smiled and squeezed her hand. “Keir is a good man, too. And cautious. I have no doubt he’ll get through.”
“But, it may be too late with what’s already been set in motion…especially with this attack, and with the wedding approaching so soon.”
“Aye,” he admitted. “Who commands your fortress, Lady Noelle?”
She shook her head. “I—I supposed this is the very reason Mama was so pressed to marry me to O’Malley. We have a master-at-arms who commands our troops, but he has no blood ties to Breasal Castle. No vested interest in protecting and holding the keep. His name is Conal. He has been ever-faithful, as long as I can remember—” Stricken, she met Logan’s watchful gaze. “But then, we’ve never been challenged since Da has been gone.”
“Male heirs?”
“My oldest brother, Cormac, is always off somewhere, travelling. Then there is me, my sister Isabel, and my two younger brothers, Jory and Paddy, who are not nearly of an age—”
Logan swore under his breath and shifted upon the bed.
****
“I’m sorry,” Noelle murmured, leaning toward him. She put a hand to his brow. “I prattle on about my worries, and you are in pain. Let me change the poultice bag.” She touched the damp cloth bag at his side. “It’s cool already.” She stood and picked up the other poultice bag she’d readied, putting it inside a bowl, then pouring steaming hot water over it to let it steep for a moment.
“This will keep the fever at bay,” Noelle said softly.
Logan thought it sounded as if she were trying to convince herself. “You are very skilled in healing my lady. I thank you for your kindness and your care.”
Noelle cast him a quick glance. “It would not do for one of our allies to be wounded and die after such a treacherous attack.” She smiled at him. “I learned, against my mother’s wishes. She views healing almost akin to Pagan beliefs. A kind of black magic.”
“’Tis obvious she’s never been upon a field of battle—nor lost a babe that might have been saved.”
“No. Nor did she allow my father the treatments that might have—helped.”
“Some things are mortal, no matter what,” Logan said. If her father had died of a lingering fever, there probably had not been much that could have saved him. But still…to not try?
Anger at his soon-to-be mother-in-law flared in his chest. It sounded as if she was marrying her daughter in haste to protect her holdings. Of course, that was not uncommon, but Logan found himself already despising the crone for not having been more understanding of Noelle’s fears. And if what Noelle said was true, the woman had no compassion in her—something she had not passed on to her daughter, thankfully.
If Noelle had not known some of the arts of healing, he most likely would have died by now. She’d stopped the blood loss, kept him warm, and tended his wounds through the night. At this moment, he felt particularly blessed by the fates. Yes…he and Noelle’s mother were going to have to come to an agreement of some kind.
He already felt a protectivenes
s toward Noelle, and not just because of her care of him. The glimpses she had allowed him to see of her life painted a picture of her mother as a controlling, somewhat superstitious woman who was used to getting her own way about things. And Noelle deserved to be happy in her own right—not living under her mother’s dictates. Especially since she’d seen fit to marry her off without any discussion…
Noelle came back to sit on the chair, carrying the steaming bowl with her. “This does most good when it’s scalding, they say.” She set the bowl down and Logan eyed it warily. “But I don’t know how scorching a tender wound with hot water can be a help. It’s the herbs that heal—”
“Thank you for waiting.” It seemed like a small thing, but Logan had suffered through this treatment many times in the past, and was grateful he wasn’t going to have to endure it again. She was right—the herbs were what healed, not the burn of the hot water.
“You look relieved,” Noelle said with a smile.
“Aye. I’ve done this a time or two. ’Tis never pleasant, but less so when your wounded flesh is bein’ crisped to a fare-thee-well.”
“Especially after being burned with hot iron to seal it.”
“Aye…” He watched her from half-closed lids. “Again, I’m in your debt. Thank you.” He shivered. The small cottage was snug and the fire burned brightly, but the snow had started again, and the wind had gotten up.
Her eyes widened in alarm as the cold rippled through him. “You’re chilled—” She stood and pulled another blanket up to his waist.
In the next moment, she laid the poultice bag over the wound. Logan gave a low groan—the bag was still on the warm side—
“Oh!” Immediately, she reached to remove it, but Logan’s fingers grasped hers and held on.
“No. Leave it. It’s cooled enough.”
“But—”
“Noelle—come lie down with me. I’m cold.”
There was agreement in her eyes, but hesitation, as well. Of course, it wasn’t proper at all. And he never would have asked if he hadn’t felt so…Ye Gods! He’d never needed another human being in his entire life. Would she do it? In the next instant, she nodded.
One Winter Knight Page 31