Once such an offer would have gladly been received, as he would have had the lass. Ian kenned that Dedre had been once an object of his desire. Now he was aware of all she lacked and all she was not. Dedre may be lovely and a proper lady, but she was not Claire.
The evening meal was such torment to think on. Cerwyn voiced his displeasure at Larry not being present. Aliana and Neala would not speak to him. Tavis looked overly content, and his constant disgusting grin had lasted through the evening. Lachlan attempted to make conversation in the tense hall. Mairi refused to leave her chamber as she was too distraught over Claire’s absence.
Ian sat in the hall, late in the evening, under the pretense of being a companion to the two other lairds. In truth, Ian was too drunk to stumble up to his chamber and too sober to face Claire’s ghost again. Another cup of whiskey burned down his throat, and he wondered how long it would feel like his soul had died.
The noise from the main doors wasn’t enough to rouse his concern. He assumed it was Nolen and his men returned from their hunt. Ian refused to notice anything until Neala screamed. The housekeeper’s face paled as the tray of dirty dishes fell from her hands.
He followed the direction of the housekeeper’s stare and saw the pair enter the hall with a few of his men trailing behind. If Ian lived to be a thousand years of age, the sight of Claire would stay burned in his mind. Her gown, what showed from under the cloak, was but shreds stained with blood and mud. Her sweet face was dark and bruised, her eye swollen shut. Her lips were also swollen on one side and marred with dry blood. Her movements toward the table were unsteady, yet full of purpose. The sword in her right hand was aimed forward at Tavis.
Hagan was no better, far too pale and barely on his feet as he moved by her side. His sword was in hand for attack. The wound to his side was visible due to the blood that had soaked through the improvised bandages. Ian wondered for a moment how the two were even capable of motion. His head was too clouded by drink. Why are they like this?
Claire knew if she stopped, even for a moment, she would not start again. The ride had been a blur of pain, fatigue, and worry. Their purpose was the only thing that mattered: saving the clan, its people, and then getting out of there. She held tight Hagan’s promise that they could leave when they were done. There were men in the hall she did not recognize, but she didn’t care. Hagan commanded the men to seize Tavis, that there was danger to all from this man. The men who entered the hall at their backs moved quickly to flank Tavis’s sides and remove the laird’s dagger. Tavis stood before her, the man who was responsible for everything: the attack he authorized, the plot to kill the people, and the act that left Ian bound to a tree, the act that forever changed her life. It was easy for her to hate Tavis and rewarding to see the fear in his eyes. Claire stopped directly in front of him. “You look surprised to see us.” She caught his gaze dart to the main door. “I wouldn’t bother looking for Nolen or his men. They won’t be coming back.”
“What is the meaning of this? How dare you accuse me of wrongdoing? I am a guest within these walls. Am I not to be joined with this clan in marriage?”
Hagan answered the charge. “There will be no marriage. You sought only to claim what is nay yours.” With short, pained phrases he explained how Tavis wanted only the mines he had already illegally possessed.
“You would believe the words of this man and his whore of a cousin?” Tavis challenged to all within the hall.
The insult meant nothing to her, but she would make certain everyone understood the risk to the clan’s safety. “These aren’t my words. Nolen explained it all to me before he died. You assumed I knew and that I had figured it out. That was your first mistake. I hadn’t, and I didn’t know. But I do now. Now everyone knows.”
Claire pointed Nolen’s blade straight to the heart of Tavis. “Nolen’s mistake was in waking me up. He should have killed me when he had the chance.” The feel of a small triumphant smile crossed her broken lips as she saw Tavis grow pale. “Your mistake was in not sending enough men to kill us.”
“So you would kill an unarmed man, a laird no less, with no proof other than your lies?” The man struggled against the two men who held him with no success.
Do I want to kill him? Yes, but there would be no honor here, only cold-blooded revenge. Not a place I want to go.
“There is plenty of proof should any bother to seek it. And no, I’m not going to kill you. There has been too much death by my hands already today.”
Claire turned away from Tavis and pointed the sword directly at Ian. She was too numb to notice the dark circles beneath his eyes and too full of her own pain to see his. The room started to spin, and Ian’s face blurred. She spit out, “As for you, Laird, I am done saving your ass.”
The room broke out into a deafening roar as Hagan fell to the stone floor. She tried to reach him; he had promised to take her away. The movement proved too quick for her weakened state. Claire was oblivious to the fact that she was falling or the hands that caught her before she crashed to the floor. For the second time that day, she knew only darkness.
Chapter 25
Claire pulled away from the hands that held her down, and a scream strained to be released but caught in her throat as panic filled her from head to toe. There was only panic and pain, and the pain was everywhere. It was the agony that slowed her movements and forced her to look at the attacker.
“Claire, please, child, see me,” Neala said. “You are safe now, ‘tis Neala by your side.”
The nightmare faded slowly as the room came into focus. Neala. She was with Neala and not in the forest. Where am I?
Claire looked around with the only eye that seemed to work and saw the familiar walls of her chamber. The dim light from the small window showed the first light of a new day. Relief flooded through her as her hands moved freely to touch the side of her face. She winced as she explored the swelling and then sighed with relief as Neala placed a cool, scented cloth against the injury.
“Shhhh, child. There are fine herbs mixed with the cool water, and the swelling should ease in a few days.” Neala reached to take a cup from the bedside table. “Here now, drink this. There are other healing herbs mixed in the water. It will dull the pain and help you rest.”
She took small sips of the drink. “Thank you, but it tastes horrible.” The energy expended to rise up enough to drink then sink back to the pillows left her drained. She fought the wave of dizziness and nausea that accompanied the herculean task and suddenly remembered what had happened. “Hagan. Where’s Hagan?”
“Dinna fash yourself, child. Hagan is safely tucked in his chamber with Aliana by his side. His wounds have been cleaned and stitched with no sign of fever. He will be fine.”
Claire closed her eyes, comforted by the words. Her attempt to shift into a more comfortable position was stopped by the pain in her left hand. The bandage that covered her hand left her stunned.
“That has been stitched as well. And you have no sign of fever, either. With rest, child, you should heal.” Neala touched the fingertips on the bandaged hand. “Can you feel this?” Neala smiled as Claire nodded. “‘Tis fine. You will bear a scar but should still have use of the hand. As for the rest of you, all your wounds have been cleaned and bandaged. None other required stitching, just simple care.” Neala stepped away from the bedside to ask someone in the corridor to bring in some food.
“Thank you, Neala. I’m sure you did a great job.” Claire felt a surge of panic. “The child, Neala, did I lose the baby?” It had been for the baby that she had found the strength to fight. “My stomach hurts.”
“For now the bairn is safe. You have been through a verra large ordeal. I dinna ken if you . . .” Claire looked away as Neala faltered in her statement. “You have been through much. With rest and care, hopefully all will be fine.” Neala sat on the bedside. “Child, forgive the qu
estion, I simply need to be aware if you require more care. Did they hurt you?”
Claire immediately knew what Neala asked. “No, Neala. I know what you’re asking and Nolen did not . . . I was able to stop him.”
It was close, too close. Even now she could feel him, smell him.
“I want a bath, Neala.”
Chastising her request, Neala said, “Nay yet. Your wounds need a bit more time to heal. Soon, I promise.” Again Neala reached to touch her cheek. “Forgive me, child. I did nay mean to bring foul thoughts to mind.”
Lifting the blankets to peer at her battered parts, she was relieved to find no dirt or mud. “You’ve already cleaned me up.” Claire’s mind recognized this would keep infection away, yet was somewhat embarrassed at being so meticulously cared for in her sleep.
Neala’s reply was matter-of-fact. “Aye, we did. ‘Tis the best manner to prevent fever.”
She was never going to ask how many people “we” represented. “I’d like something to wear please, Neala.” The idea of lying in bed, naked and dependent, left her too vulnerable. There were cuts and bruises she did not want to see. With care, the shift found its way over her head. Claire sat back against the pillows and waited for the spinning and the pain to stop. Relief came again as a fresh cloth was placed over her swollen face.
Neala turned to call out entry to the knock at the door.
Aware that her now blind side prevented any view of who was entering her chamber, she gave a small smile as Finella stood at the foot of the bed. It touched her deeply that Finella came to see her. The concern was clear in the old woman’s gaze and the kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be fine, Finella, but I don’t think I can eat all of that.”
Finella simply said, “Eat, Claire.” She left as quickly as she had entered.
“I’m not really hungry.”
Armed with a spoon full of broth, Neala spoke, “It has been two days, child. You need to eat.”
As Claire’s mouth opened to gape and question the statement, the spoon found its entry.
“What do you mean two days? It’s early morning.”
“‘Tis early morning, child. You did nay wake at all the day before this one. For two nights you have slept. Dinna fret this. The sleep was needed for you to begin healing. In truth, it allowed us to tend your wounds without you being aware of the task. ‘Tis a blessing.”
Claire grumbled. “Somehow I don’t feel blessed, Neala.” She winced as the sip of broth brought discomfort.
“I believe you, child.” Neala continued to help her eat and then offered her some goat’s milk to mask the herbs mixed within.
“I can still taste them, Neala.”
“Forgive the flavor, but they are needed.”
“I trust you.” That was the simple truth. Of all the people Claire had met and known, Neala was one she trusted completely. She realized she hadn’t asked for any details of what had happened, and a small burst of fear filled her heart. “I forgot to ask. What happened here? Did we come in time? Is everyone safe?”
“Shhhh now, child.” Neala answered the question, “All is well for the moment. Tavis is locked within a chamber, and his men are also under heavy guard. You arrived in time. No one here came to any harm.”
“That’s it?”
“There are matters that still need to be sorted out, child. Lachlan is trying to maintain some order in all of this.” Neala answered her confusion, “The Campbell Laird, I should say. He and his daughter, Dedre, arrived shortly after you left to bear witness to the marriage.”
Claire remembered Hagan had wanted to invite the local lairds for the wedding. She sighed as she thought about how long ago that all seemed, that morning by Ian’s side.
“‘Twas Lachlan who caught you in the hall as you collapsed. He carried you here so I could tend you. He kept Ian from killing Tavis and his men.” Neala smiled and patted her good hand. “Lachlan wishes to speak with you when you are ready. There are many questions on his mind.”
Claire knew what was not being said. “Lachlan does not believe what Hagan and I said in the hall, does he?” With everything they had gone through, she never dreamed anyone would doubt them.
“I believe he is just trying to be careful. Dinna fash yourself. All here have faith in what you and Hagan say.” Claire saw the woman’s smile as her eyes grew heavy. “More rest now, child. ‘Tis the best thing for you.”
In a voice slurring with coming sleep, she said, “Mairi had no part in this. Did we say that part? Does everyone know? Is Mairi safe?”
Neala’s voice became distant as the herbs worked within her. “Aye, child. Hagan spoke the same words last eve. Mairi is well and unharmed. I saw her last eve, and she prays for you.”
Barely aware that someone else had joined them, the light from the corridor was the only clue that the door had opened. Claire knew immediately that Ian had entered the chamber. Her good eye was too stubborn to open as she spoke. “I’m telling . . . the . . . truth. Tell Hagan . . . I’ll be . . . ready to . . . go . . .” Claire’s statement fell away as sleep took hold.
Ian had waited for her to awaken. He had left this chamber only three times in the two long nights that had passed, once to speak with Hagan when he woke, once to bathe per Neala’s command, and this last time to assist in the changing of Hagan’s bandages. He turned, prepared to bark that he had given orders to be fetched when Claire first opened her eyes. The reprimand left his tongue as his mind absorbed what she had spoken. Neala had heard them as well, and her face showed the shock he felt. He sat on her bed, afraid to touch any part of her, lest he cause her pain. What have I done to make her believe I would ever doubt any words she might speak? Closing his eyes, he knew what he had done.
“The child does nay mind if her cheek is touched,” Neala said.
Gently he traced the side of Claire’s face, the side not swollen. He had touched her like this too many times to count. He was used to her smile, even when touched in sleep, but now she only turned away from his touch. He placed a kiss on her forehead as his hand brushed the hair away from her face. “Did she speak, Neala?”
“Aye, we spoke briefly. She ate a wee bit, and the herbs put her back to sleep.” Neala studied his reaction. “Claire will heal, Ian. She is strong. I ken what you fear for her. I had the same thoughts. She said ‘nay.’ Nolen did nay rape her.”
Ian felt his head fall back, though be it from relief or shame, he could not tell. He was grateful that there was one less hurt to heal. Yet he was filled with guilt that he had put Claire on the path that led to this. So many wrongs had led to her being attacked. His mind could not grasp the action that could have prevented all.
“Did she say anything else?” He had no idea what he truly wished to hear.
“In truth, our talk was simple. I let her ken all here were safe. That was her true concern. There was talk of how she was cared for and how her wounds were treated. She ate a wee bit for me after Finella brought her tray. The herbs did their work and put her to sleep. Though I will add she was surprised their tale was doubted.”
“There is no doubt here, Neala. However, Lachlan is correct. We need hard proof before we kill another laird. Unfortunately ‘tis no simple matter. What happens will affect his clan and all those dependent on him.”
“I had never considered such matters. Ian, she will sleep the better part of the day. Mayhap now is a fine time for you to rest.” Neala kenned he had not slept since Claire and Hagan had come back. She had at least napped in the chair. “Both of them will need you to be strong as they recover.”
As usual, the women in his life were wise. The days ahead could prove to be long and difficult. Moving to the fire, he picked up a chair and placed it next to the bed. “I will sleep by her side. Go to your bed, Neala. You will hear from me if you are needed.” He took Claire’s uninjur
ed hand in his own. “Thank you for your care of Claire and Hagan. ‘Tis my belief your hand is what has kept fever away.”
“They are two people I care for deeply. No care is too great for either. But I will take your offer of some sleep. The next few days could be long.”
Chapter 26
One eye opened slowly to take in the chamber. The light from the window showed strong and bright and led Claire to believe it was late afternoon. The murmur of voices by the door was the reason she woke up. Never could she remember having to pee so badly. Trying to think, the last time she recalled doing such a thing was in the woods before the attack, and that couldn’t be good. This thought brought to mind questions about the care given to her while unconscious. Quickly, she decided never to ask. As she sat up, the pain, masked by the dizziness, caused her to stumble from the bed.
“What is wrong with you, get back into that bed now!” Aliana’s voice boomed through her aching head.
“Not so loud, please.” She was unable to say more as the other woman ran from the open door to wrap Claire in a gentle hug.
“My poor, cousin. How you must hurt. Do you ken you have my thanks for bringing Hagan home to me? For saving Cerwyn and us all?” Aliana sobbed and drowned out the ability to say more.
[2015] The Draig's Woman Page 26