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Forget Me Not, My Scottish Love (Heart of a Highlander Collection Book 3)

Page 18

by Allie Palomino


  “Do these herbs explain how she’s been acting?”

  “Why yes, Laird. They make a person paranoid an’ make a body weak. Aye, they explain ‘er behavior.”

  He looked over to the corner of the room. He saw one of Abby’s dresses. A fleeting memory came to him.

  Gillyanne had deceived them, and deceived them well.

  Abby had been correct- he had attempted to make love to another woman. Then he remembered the ale. He saw the large container and went to it.

  “She gave me ale in this container, Bess. Can ye tell me what she put in it?”

  She smelled the pitcher.

  “Aye, Laird, ‘tis this same herb,” she said, holding it up again. “This in enough quantities worsens the effect of being addle-brained.”

  The room began to whirl around him.

  The whore!

  The urge to kill her was so strong, he flexed his hands. His breathing was shallow and hard, as if he had run miles.

  He looked in her closet and something caught his eye. He saw sticks, of varying sized.

  “Well, that would be useful for moving things from afar, no? To get someone to believe that she is seeing things move of their own accord?”

  Cameron took calming breath. “I’m going to kill her,” he said coldly. “Bess, make her the tea. Do everything to help her, please.”

  She nodded and left the room. Cameron and Keith rushed to Abby’s room. Cameron’s mind was spinning from all that they had uncovered.

  “Aidan and Keith, find Patrick. I want ye all to find Gillyanne. Once ye do, doona let her go,” Cameron instructed and Aidan nodded, leaving his brother behind.

  Cameron looked down at his poor wife. He gingerly picked her up in his arms and took her over to his room, their room. He laid her on their bed and sat next to her. Cameron reached out to touch her once gleaming hair and a tress of her hair remained in his hand.

  He looked at her concave abdomen, where his child was once safely carried. He closed his eyes as joy and pain inundated him simultaneously. He could not make sense of it all.

  He prayed for the soul of his lost bairn.

  Cameron didn’t know how long he stared at her, but before he knew it, Bess came in with the tea.

  “ ‘ere, Laird. I made it stronger to ensure she gets its nourishment. I put cream to soften it in her stomach. Hold ‘er ‘ead up,” she said.

  He gently picked her head up and Bess poured the liquid through Abby’s parched lips. Abby was too far gone to protest. Once all the liquid went down with a massage of her throat, Bess looked up at him.

  “I’ll repeat this several times a day. These herbs have curative properties an’ should ‘elp ‘er. Now it’s just a matter o’ waitin’, Laird. The Lord will ‘ear our prayers. He’ll not take such an innocent lass.”

  Cameron could do nothing but nod.

  Hours later, Keith returned. Cameron was bent over Abby’s frail hand, lost in prayer.

  “Cameron, we couldna find her. She was last seen rutting with one of the guards.”

  “‘Tis no surprise. She’s a damned whore,” Cameron said, furious. “I want two warriors to guard this room. No one but the family is to get in, understand? She’s been tormenting my wife all this time, and I was never the wiser,” Cameron said through clenched teeth. “I’ve failed my wife, Keith. What have I been doing? Where have I been?” Cameron shook his head. The anger and self-hatred he felt for himself made him want to roar in fury.

  “Cameron, ye did what any of us would have. Ye threw Gillyanne out those months ago, and ye were in the right. Then she appeared here, beaten. I despise Gillyanne, Cameron, but even I would have welcomed her here to recover. Abby was in accord with Gillyanne recovering here. Blame Gillyanne, not yerself. Mother was right. She said not to trust her. It isna yer fault, Cameron. Even Amy believed Gillyanne.”

  Cameron shook his head. Nay, he wouldna allow his conscience to be eased while his wife suffered because of his lapse of judgment.

  “She gave Abby one last strong serving of tea laced with poison. Bess is unsure whether she’ll get better. Get the guards. I’m itching to get my hands around that whore’s neck,” he raged.

  Gillyanne had disappeared. There was no sign of her. The clan was put on notice and ordered to come forth should they see Gillyanne. Cameron was pleased to see he had his clan’s support. They were eager for her capture and vowed to keep their ears and eyes on alert for Gillyanne. They cared about their Lady’s welfare.

  Cameron did not leave her. He thought he saw her complexion improving. Her cheeks weren’t as pale. He had taken over Bess’ ministrations. Several times a day, he had raised her head and slowly poured the creamy herbal tea down her throat. The remainder of the time, he would sit contemplating their lives. He was beyond consolation, blaming himself for her miserable state.

  The despair and desolation were too much for him.

  He’d at last been broken.

  What was he without her?

  Cameron couldn’t live without her. He’d told God that. He asked Him to take him instead, that a life without Abby was no life at all. He had raged against Him, cursing Him for not caring for his innocent wife. In the end, Cameron, on his knees, pleaded for the soul and life of his beloved, because only then would be returned his own soul and life.

  The family and clan nervously awaited Abby to get better. Bess didn’t give them too much hope, though.

  “She’s been poisoned for a long while. The body canna recover from that so quickly, if at all. I canna give ye all false ‘ope.”

  “I’ll send for a priest,” Keith said.

  “Nay! Ye’ll nay send for a priest, because she will not die. I willna let her,” Cameron said, his face contorting in a mask of rage. “Get out!” he bellowed, turning back to Abby, on his knees.

  They left him with Abby.

  Cameron still never left her side. He took care of her. Just as a precaution, he would drink some of the herbal tea and broth to make certain it wasn’t poisoned. He kneeled over her form, with his hands folded around one of hers. He held their joined hands to his forehead spoke to her, begging her not to leave him.

  He bathed her slowly and lovingly. Taking a cloth, he would gently wipe her body. Where once she was lush, she was now bones. He was able to count each of her ribs. He would change positions with her if only he could.

  His grief had no boundaries. He feared his love, his wife, was dying.

  It felt like an eternity before Abby stirred awake. She moved her head to the side and saw Cameron. His head was bent, her hand in his, and he was sleeping. The site of him warmed her cold body.

  Abby attempted to open her mouth, but it hurt. A look of confusion crossed her face. She tried again.

  “C-Cameron?” she asked in a bare whisper, weak.

  He stirred some.

  “C-Cameron,” she said again, trying to be a little louder. She moved a finger on the hand he held.

  Cameron stirred again and raised his head. Confusion clouded his eyes until he saw her watching him.

  “Abby?” he whispered hoarsely. He blinked again. She saw him focus on her face in puzzlement.

  “Abby, ye’re awake.” He closed his eyes in relief. “Thank ye, Lord,” he said reverently, his head facing up at the ceiling, eyes closed.

  She looked confused.

  “Wh-Why?” she asked.

  “Ye doona remember anything, Abby?” he asked gently, taking a cloth and wiping her face.

  She shook her head; it was barely a discernable movement, but she could do no more without great effort.

  “Ye’ve been sick, Abby.” His voice was gentle. He didn’t want to tell her the truth, if she didn’t remember. There would be time for that.

  “Sweetness, allow me to call Bess. I’ll return in a moment.”

  She slightly nodded her head.

  Cameron hurried outside the chamber. He turned to one of her guards. “Lachlan, find Bess and tell her my wife has awoken. Hurry,” he commanded.<
br />
  “Aye, Laird,” the big man said eagerly.

  Lachlan hurried down the steps and sought Bess. She was in the kitchens, preparing Abby’s tea. She looked up when Lachlan came in.

  “Bess, our lady is awake! She’s awake. Cameron bids ye to hurry!”

  She quickly finished the tea, adding honey and cream, and hurried up the steps.

  “Cameron, I’m so tired. ‘Tis difficult…to speak…”

  He kissed her palm for the hundredth time since she awoke. “Yes, sweetness, ye’re tired. Ye need to rest,” he said, not taking his eyes off her pale face.

  She closed her eyes until she heard the door open. Bess came in.

  “Bess?” she asked.

  “Aye, darlin’, old Bess is ‘ere. How d’ye feel?” Bess felt Abby’s forehead.

  “Terrible. Like I’m dried on the inside,” she said hoarsely.

  “Drink this, it’ll make ye feel better. Then ye must drink some broth. Ye canna eat for awhile,” Bess said, handing the tea over to Cameron.

  Abby went to lift her hand with some great effort and she let her hand drop down. She looked questioning at Cameron.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, frightened. Tears began falling from her eyes and her breath caught. She groaned in pain.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “It hurts to c-cry,” she whispered weakly. Her dry lips trembled.

  “Doona be scared, sweetness. Doona cry, my love. I wouldna let anything happen to ye,” he said, brokenly. He cursed himself as he said those words, feeling like a fraud. He hadn’t kept her safe at all.

  He kissed her palm.

  “Drink this tea. It will make ye feel better.”

  She tried to sit up, but her hands could not take her weight, however slight that it was now.

  “Let me, my love,” Cameron said. He gingerly picked her up underneath her arms and sat her up. He looked into her pale face. He touched his forehead to hers and rubbed his nose against hers. She gave a slight smile, but her dry lips cracked more. She brought her hand to her lips and looked up at him in bewilderment.

  “It’s all right,” he said smiling into her eyes. “I love ye, Abby,” he whispered, staring intently into her eyes.

  “I love you, Cameron,” she said, still confused at the state in which she found herself.

  He slowly put the cup up to her lips and she drank. Bess then came in, having left to get some broth.

  “Drink this broth to regain strength, hmmm,” Bess clucked.

  Cameron alternated between the broth and the tea, until she was done drinking them both. Abby lifted her hand to brush a lock of hair away from her face. Part of the lock remained with her hand.

  “My hair!” she whispered in horror.

  She stuck out her hands and they were trembling. She looked at Cameron.

  “All is well, sweetness.”

  “What happened? I want to know, Cameron!” she demanded thickly.

  He looked down on the bed, not knowing where to start. He didn’t want to upset her but refusing to tell her would upset her anyway. He sighed.

  “It was Gillyanne. She poisoned ye.” His voice was hoarse.

  “Poisoned?” She took a moment to let that stew. “If I hadn’t convinced you to let her stay…” Abby said quietly.

  “Ye wanted her to recover from her injuries. Then, ye thought she had changed, Abby.” He squeezed her hand. “Ye have a good heart.”

  “A foolish one.”

  “Nay.”

  “She knew exactly what to do and say.”

  “Aye.”

  “You weren’t with another woman.”

  His exhale was slow. “Nay. She placed herbs in my ale. It made my head muddled and eyesight blurry. I thought it was ye, nay her, when I kissed her.”

  Abby sucked air in as if she was drowning. She looked into his eyes, tears flooding them painfully.

  His cupped his shaky left palm against her cheek.

  “I apologize,” he said, helpless to ease either of their torments.

  “Nay,” her whisper was airy and so light, he had to strain to hear her. “I have something to tell you.”

  He squeezed her hand again. “I know.”

  Her eyes were wide, and tears immediately fell from her eyes. “You do?”

  Cameron nodded and explained how he found out about their lost baby.

  “She did it, didn’t she?” Abby’s voice was trembling. She bit her bottom lip as she began to cry. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t asked you to let her remain here, she wouldn’t have killed our baby.” Her voice broke at the end. “I allowed the wolf in to roam amongst the sheep.”

  It broke him that she should blame herself for having a good heart.

  “‘Tis nay yer fault,” he said forcefully.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Her voice was small and she began to cry.

  “In her room, we found long sticks.”

  Her eyebrows crinkled.

  “We believe they are useful for moving objects from afar.”

  Abby sucked in a breath.

  “When I find her, I will kill her.”

  At her vow, he brought their joined hands to his mouth and kissed hers.

  “Ye willna do anything that endangers yer life. My heart canna bear it.”

  The pained look she gave him had him reaching for her and holding her to him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said in an anguished whisper, tears slipping down her face.

  “Ye’ve nothing to be sorry for,” he said angrily. “‘Tis I who am sorry. It wasna yer fault, nothing was, Abby. I’m supposed to protect ye, and our bairn. And I didna,” he raged in a whisper. “I didna,” he repeated in an anguished whisper.

  She rested her palm in his hair.

  “Cameron,” she said through her tears. “Cameron, I love you,” she said, weeping. “I love you.”

  He closed his eyes. “I love ye, my sweet Abby. Forgive me,” he whispered. “I doona know how I can ask that of ye when I canna forgive myself.

  “There is nothing to forgive, my love,” she said, tears slipping down her cheeks.

  They stayed quiet, wandering in their thoughts.

  “I’m tired,” she said, breaking the silence.

  “I’ll leave ye to sleep.”

  “No, Cameron!” she pleaded. “Don’t leave me, please. I cannot be without you.”

  His heart began to beat again as he got into bed next to her. He took her into his arms, kissing her forehead.

  “You have my heart, Cameron,” she whispered.

  He tightened his hold slightly, as to not cause her pain.

  “And you, mine, sweetness. For always.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The next few weeks passed happily for Cameron and Abby. He never left her. Much to her displeasure, she was given herbal tea and broth for the first week until her stomach grew stronger. Bess insisted that she begin eating vegetables and then small bits of game. She was tired of drinking her nourishment.

  One morning, Abby grew restless sitting near the window.

  “I need to rid myself from these walls and breathe fresh air,” she said, turning to Cameron who sat on the bed. “Can we?”

  He stared back at her. She had gained a good amount of weight. She looked healthier and her hair was now growing with its luster returning. Her cheeks were not hollowed anymore, and they had the rosy hue they had before. Her eyes were gleaming emeralds.

  She was exuding life again. Cameron never felt better or more optimistic.

  “Anything, my love,” he said, smiling at her.

  They had the kitchen prepare a basket of food. A young servant took the basket and drink out to a grassy area, while Cameron carried his precious treasure.

  “You do not have to carry me, Cameron. I can walk,” she said, a little crankily. He smiled. While her strength was returning, she tired easily.

  Plaid was thrown on the ground and he gently placed her on it. The basket was put down and he sat across f
rom her, his back leaning against the tree. They were under the shade of a great tree.

  She inhaled and smiled, looking at him. He returned her smile.

  “Ye needed fresh air,” he said, unpacking the basket.

  “Yes,” she said, her smile growing wider.

  “Why are there so many archers at the towers?” she asked, looking at the ten shooters at each of the towers.

  “They’re protecting and keeping watch,” he said, evading the question slightly.

  “Ye mean, they’re protecting us because of Gillyanne.”

  He leaned over and kissed her nose. “I doona want ye worrying, my love. Our protection and this family’s well-being, is my concern. I willna fail this time.”

  “You never failed before.”

  He allowed her words to go without his comment, keeping his ill-opinions about himself, to himself.

  He began placing cheese wedges, thick black bread, and fruit out. He took some boiled game for her and thick mutton stew for him. Boiled vegetables followed, and her face dropped.

  Cameron gave her the tea that Bess had been preparing specifically for her. She drank, leering over the rim at the bland food she was expected to eat. She took a piece of black bread and spread honey over it. She loved eating the bread this way.

  A grin spread across his face as he stared at her reaction to the bland food. Her look of revulsion was replaced by a smile and moan as she took a bite out of the bread. She sighed in pleasure, closing her eyes.

  “Eat slowly,” he said, repeating what Bess had directed her to do many times.

  She nodded, her eyes still closed and he laughed.

  After ten minutes of fidgeting and wriggling, he asked her, “What’s the matter?”

  Abby gave him a small smile. “My, ah, my bottom hurts. Also, I feel as if I don’t have enough strength to sit.” She glanced at his food and curled an eyebrow.

  “Mmm, I’ll remedy that.”

  She yelped as he picked her up effortlessly and placed her between his legs. Her back rested against his chest and she sighed in contentment.

  “Better?” he asked thickly.

 

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