“Good thinking,” Baldric said brightly, for all the world as though the idea hadn’t been something that Weatherby had brought up.
“I asked him to send word back with the messenger as soon as he receives the message, so we should know what his plan of action is within the day,” Robert said, glancing at Weatherby.
“A good course of action,” the lord said stiffly, shooting a thoughtful glance down the table to Brianna. He was clearly pleased by the gesture; the idea that he’d thought was his own had been taken up and implemented so swiftly, and Brianna hid a smile, very glad that Robert had acted so swiftly. A gesture of good faith that should go some way toward smoothing Weatherby’s ruffled feathers… and she hoped that the presence of the guards on the road wouldn’t be necessary for too long. She trusted that once the refugees had the food and supplies that they needed, that the crime would stop… and, more to the point, there’d be less risk of the people starving to death out there on Weatherby’s doorstep.
Progress was slow, true… but in her experience, that was the best way to make lasting change.
Chapter 15
But her good mood, unfortunately, didn’t last long. After breakfast she headed out into the fresh morning air, wanting to get a walk in. It had been days since she’d done any proper exercise, and it was an important pillar of her physical health as well as mental. The idea of doing exercise in a delusion was laughable, of course… but sure enough, she was beginning to feel the tell-tale side effects of not exercising for a few days. If this was a dream, that part was consistent to reality… and if this was reality, well, she was going to need to get her pulse rate up if she wanted to maintain a clear head. Mental health was even more important in a new setting like this one, and she was looking forward to getting a brisk walk done in the lovely fresh air.
But she was only ten minutes into her walk when she began to feel a little dizzy. Frowning, she slowed her pace a little, confused by the sudden feeling of nausea that was plaguing her. Was she dehydrated? No – she’d had plenty of water with breakfast. Could she really have gotten so unfit in just a few days that she was struggling to maintain a brisk walking pace? That didn’t seem likely. Before they’d left on vacation she’d been in the habit of running at least five miles every other day, sometimes more if she was having a particularly stressful work week, and that kind of fitness didn’t melt away this quickly. No – there was definitely something strange going on. She pushed on for a few minutes, hoping that the feeling would let up, but by the time she’d covered barely a mile, she knew that she was going to have to turn back. She walked slowly back toward the manor, a little disconcerted by how unwell she felt.
Could it be a cold or flu or something? She hadn’t been sick for a long time, but she had to admit, this was feeling decidedly flu-like. The weather was cold, she thought with a chill running down her spine… was it possible it was something that simple? Irritated, she headed upstairs when she got in, not liking the way her head spun and the sunlight seemed to bother her more than usual. Her intention had been to sit down for a little while in her room, but her bed looked so inviting and her body felt so tired and unwell that it wasn’t long before she’d laid down on the bedcovers, only intending to rest for a moment…
But when she opened her eyes again, she realized with a start that the sun was already on its way toward the horizon – hours had gone by, and it was mid-afternoon. And more to the point… she was definitely, undeniably sick. Wrinkling her nose, she sat up on her elbows, feeling the room lurch and spin. She got up for long enough to change back into her nightdress, not wanting to be lying under the covers in her uncomfortable day clothes – and though even that small effort nearly exhausted her, she also grabbed the pitcher of water and moved it closer to the bedside, knowing how important it was to stay hydrated. Exhausted, she settled under the covers, feeling her body shivering with more than just the residual chill in the room… a fever setting in.
Great. Just when she was beginning to feel like she could cope with what was going on around her, the nastiest flu she’d felt in a while decided to turn up. Brianna nestled deeply into the pillows, sighing heavily as she felt sleep reach up and pull her down again. There was no use fighting it, she knew that from experience. When she’d been a younger woman, she’d always been willing to work through colds and flus, dosing herself on as much cold medication as was medically safe and powering through. She’d always thought that pushing on like that shortened the duration of colds, somehow, that it was the best way to go… but as the years had gone on she’d changed her mind about that. Now, she didn’t mind taking sick leave.
Though it wasn’t as though she had a job right now… she frowned as she came back to consciousness later in the evening, the sun low on the horizon and casting warm orange light through her window. The negotiations… well, they’d just have to go on without her, wouldn’t they? At least they were waiting on word about the guard patrols… she could afford to rest a little while she waited for that to happen. And at the end of the day, Weatherby and Robert were big boys. They could handle the conversation themselves… that being said, thinking of how stiff they’d been with each other that morning, she hoped she’d be well enough to mediate once the negotiations began again.
Shortly before dinner, she heard a soft tap on her door, and the slightly worried face of Baldric peeked in when she called for them to come in. He blinked at her, clearly surprised to see her in bed… then a look of realization dawned on his face.
“Oh, dear. Are you feeling ill, Lady Brianna?”
“Yeah,” she admitted, reaching up to rub her aching head and giving him a rueful smile. “Started feeling sick when I went for a walk this morning. Thought I might be able to sleep it off, but I guess not. Just my luck, hey?”
“Not luck, I don’t think,” Baldric said, shaking his head. “It’s been fairly common for the women like you – the time-lost women,” he added, a smile on his face indicating that he found that term rather amusing, “to find themselves fighting off an illness soon after they arrive here. Karin did explain it to me at some point… something to do with tiny little creatures that are on everything we touch, and the creatures here being different to the creatures your body learned how to deal with in your own time.” He shrugged his shoulders, looking a little mystified. “Does that make sense to you?”
It was a decent summary of germ theory, she supposed with a grin, thinking back to high school biology. Filling in the gaps, she nodded thoughtfully. “I guess it makes sense that my immune system isn’t used to the diseases that you guys are…”
“Immune system. That’s what Karin called it. Utterly baffling to me, but she’s an intelligent woman, and I’ve made a career on trusting anyone smarter than me.” He smiled at her. “I’ll see to it that meals are brought to your room for you – and the cook makes a rather delicious healing broth if your stomach is feeling too sensitive for heartier fare. It’s a shame travel from the Keep is so restricted,” he added, shaking his head regretfully. “Karin and Audrina are such skilled healers… they’d have you right as rain in no time.”
“I wouldn’t want to get anyone sick,” she said quickly, biting her lip. The idea of the women from the Keep visiting her when she was unwell… she didn’t like that. She wanted to be fit and healthy when she met them, not lying in bed with a miserable flu. “It’s just a nasty cold, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“We’ll take good care of you, don’t you worry,” Baldric said with a smile. She settled back into the bed as she heard the door close behind him, comforted by the promise. Of all the places she could have ended up, this one wasn’t too bad.
It wasn’t long before the door creaked open again – this time, a young woman in servant’s clothes came through the door, taking care to move quietly. Brianna propped herself up on her elbows, smiling gratefully as she saw the platter in the girl’s hands – there was a covered bowl along with some round bread rolls, and a delicious smell was emanating from it
. Her stomach growled, and she realized she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
“Some vegetable broth, ma’am,” the servant said softly, and she recognized her as being the girl who’d shown her to her room that first night. “Should be nice and gentle for you, help keep your strength up. I’m sorry you’re feeling unwell.”
“Thank you,” she said gratefully, taking the bowl in hands that seemed to tremble a little with the effort. She always hated how weak she felt when she got sick. She knew it was irrational, but it made her feel… fragile, somehow. Like there was something wrong with her. But the broth was delicious, and she finished the whole bowl as well as the two bread rolls. That was probably a good sign, she thought drowsily as she drifted back off into sleep. As long as she could eat, she knew she wasn’t too unwell.
But in the morning, the sickness was worse, not better, and she groaned as she struggled upright in bed. This was the flu, all right… her body was aching as though she’d done a full weightlifting routine the day before, even though she knew she’d done nothing more taxing than a brisk walk for a few minutes. What was worse, her head was stuffy, and the dizziness and feelings of vertigo were back with a vengeance. Feeling utterly miserable, she settled herself back into bed, knowing full well that it was going to be a while before she was ready to even think about getting out of bed.
Before long, there was a gentle tapping on the door, and her voice rasped when she called for them to come in. She was expecting to see the servant from the night before, but she was startled to see a familiar tartan-clad figure sidle quietly into the room, a covered tray in his hands. It was Robert, and she immediately started running her fingers through her tangled hair, wondering exactly how much of a mess she looked.
“Brianna, how are you feeling?” he asked softly, taking a seat by her bed once he’d gently put the platter down on her bedside table. “Baldric was telling me you were feeling quite ill yesterday…”
“And today I’m feeling much worse,” she croaked, feeling utterly wretched. “Thanks for bringing me breakfast, but you really don’t have to stay, I’m gross… and I don’t want you to catch it –”
“Nonsense,” he said briskly. “When you’re sick, you need company more than ever. And besides, I won’t catch it. My immune system’s used to the germs around here – it’s been fighting off that flu you’ve got since I was a child.”
“Great,” she said, smiling despite her exasperation. “I see the famous Karin has been giving you lessons in immunology, too.”
“Like I said, I’m a bard,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Knowledge and learning are tools of my trade. Besides, it’s fascinating to think of how much progress we’re going to make over the next few centuries. The stories Karin and Audrina tell about hospitals in the future…” He shook his head, a soft smile on his face. “Maybe they could have saved my Brianna.”
“That kind of thinking won’t do you any good,” she said softly. “Trust me.”
“But if I’d been here instead of London—” He frowned.
This was clearly something he’d been thinking about a lot – she felt a pang of regret through her fever, wondering if it was her presence that had stirred up all these thoughts.
“If I’d not fled my fate like a coward and we’d been at the Keep… maybe the women up there could have done more for her. Helped her fight off whatever horrible thing would have come to claim her life.”
“I’ve spent a lot of time dwelling on how my choices could have been different,” she told him firmly. “It’s a fool’s errand. What happened is what happened. You did the best you could with the information you had. You did your best. Sometimes awful things just… happen.” She sighed, feeling herself veering uncomfortably close to a subject she still didn’t like thinking about, even after four full years of therapy. To distract herself, she grabbed the bowl from the platter, smiling to see that it was porridge, warm and soft and only lightly flavored with honey. Just what her uneasy stomach needed.
“I’ll leave you to rest,” Robert promised her once she’d eaten, seeing the way her eyelids were drooping. “But I’ll be back later this afternoon to keep you company.”
“Thanks, Robert,” she said softly, smiling at him as he left the room. “You’re right… it’s nice to have company.”
The sleep that claimed her felt good, especially with a belly full of food. There was something reassuring about the knowledge that she didn’t need to do anything, be anywhere… she could just take her time healing. No job to return to, no irritating boyfriend who’d need his texts responded to, no family or friends to make demands on her… well, that last one was a little sad. But the benefit of being so isolated was that she could sleep deeply. And maybe it was the deepness of her sleep that brought the dreams on… or maybe it was the conversation with Robert. Either way, she found herself in the depths of a nightmare the likes of which she hadn’t had in a long time.
In it, she was running through a suburban house – modern and clean, brand new appliances, children’s drawings stuck to the fridge. The absolute image of a suburban family home. But something was wrong. As she walked through the house, searching for someone or something, she could feel it getting harder and harder to breathe. What was wrong? She was inhaling and exhaling just fine, but she was getting dizzier and dizzier, losing her footing as she stumbled and fell… and then she realized she was breathing through her mouth. She shut her mouth, took a gasp of air through her nose, and smelled it – the unmistakable, awful smell of gas. And as she realized what was happening, she heard shrill, ugly laughter… as the whole house erupted in flames around her.
Chapter 16
Her screams must have echoed through the entire manor. It had been so long since she’d had a dream like that that it must have taken her by surprise… or maybe it was the cold interfering with her ability to control her fear. Either way, she was utterly hysterical when she woke up, thrashing in the bed as she screamed, tears coursing down her face as her body shock with shock and terror. The door slammed open, frightening her further, and before she could react, she felt warm, solid arms around her, gathering her up and holding her close even with the bedclothes twisted around her. She clung onto the figure, burying her face in his shoulder as she shook with sobs.
“Easy, now,” a warm, soothing voice kept saying. “There, there. You’re safe. It’s alright, it’s alright, you’re safe. It was just a dream…”
Slowly, ever so slowly, she was able to gather her wits. It was frustrating, feeling her body continuing to panic even as she realized that she had nothing to be afraid of, that it had just been a bad dream. It always took her body longer to get the memo than it took her mind… even when she’d intellectually calmed herself, she could still feel her heart pounding and her mind racing, as though she was still readying herself for a fight. That was most of the mechanism of post-traumatic stress, her therapist had told her… the body not quite understanding that it wasn’t still in danger. Well, she wished it would hurry up and figure it out.
It was helping, oddly enough, to have warm arms around her – dizzily, she was aware that it was Robert holding her, but the adrenaline was still strong enough that she couldn’t worry that this was an inappropriate situation to be in. It had always made her feel worse on those nights that she’d stayed with Ben and had a nightmare – he’d tried to hold her a few times to soothe her stress, but he’d always been so irritable about being woken up that she found his comfort unhelpful. But Robert… he didn’t seem to mind at all. Slowly, the shaking of her body dropped in intensity until it was just a little shiver, and she took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled it through her mouth, glad to realize that she was getting control of herself again.
Sensing she was a little better, Robert reached over to light the candle on her bedside table, and the cheery little flame helped a little to banish her fears a little more. It must have been close to dawn – the darkness outside wasn’t absolute, with a slight gray tinge to the s
ky that indicated the sun was on its way up. Robert was wearing bedclothes – it felt odd to see him out of his usual tartan kilt, and she smiled a little, feeling sudden acute embarrassment take the place of the fear and panic she’d been lost in.
“Sorry,” she murmured, her voice hoarse from the screams she hadn’t been able to control. “Sorry if I woke you –”
“You woke half the manor, I’d warrant,” he said, amusement in his voice. “Are you alright? I’ll just let the servants know you’re not hurt.”
She gathered herself further as he slid out of the bed and headed for the door, murmuring a few words to someone standing there. Then he came back and took a seat by her bed.
“I feel stupid,” she admitted, reaching up to rub her forehead. The unpleasant cold was still very much with her, and her head was pounding harder than it had all day – probably a result of the force of her screaming and thrashing, she thought irritably. She felt sick, and miserable, and when Robert handed her a glass of water she sipped at it with a dejected expression on her face. Why the hell did everything have to happen to her at once? She hadn’t had a dream that bad in months.
“It’s not stupid to have nightmares,” Robert pointed out, and though she knew he was right, part of her couldn’t help but think he was just being nice. “There’s no controlling our dreams, Brianna.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled. “I know. I just… it makes me feel like a little kid.”
“What were you dreaming about?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.
Sensing her hesitation, he continued, clearly not wanting to put her on the spot – she appreciated that. Her pulse hadn’t quite settled, and though she was breathing easier, she wasn’t especially keen to relive the dream just yet.
Highlander Returned: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander In Time Book 9) Page 11