Duncan listened intently, holding her other hand and stroking it gently.
“After I fell, someone came…stayed with me, held me...”
Duncan’s brows knitted together. “I held you.”
She tried to lift her head, but it hurt too much. She softly moaned. “Before that...someone else.”
Duncan patted her hand. “We shall talk later. Rest now. You are safe.”
Safe. Safe with Duncan. Aye, she could rest now.
Chapter Twenty-three
A sennight. She’d been in bed only a sennight, yet it felt like a full moon’s passing. Catherine knew every crack in the wall, the placement of every object.
A small knee pushed against her leg, sending a shaft of pain along the leg. She cried out, unable to suppress the pain.
Duncan’s hands stilled on her ankle.
Meghan froze, no longer squirming on the bed. “I sorry,” she pouted, her bottom lip puffing out. Tears threatened to drip from her beautiful blue eyes.
Catherine breathed deeply, and reached over to soothe the small child. “‘Tis all right, Sweetheart. ‘Twas just a wee bounce.” She took Meggie’s small chubby hand and cradled it.
“Duncan,” Catherine grumbled, returning her attention to her husband. “I cannot stay abed forever. I hate being separated from everyone.”
“You cannot walk about on your leg until ‘tis properly healed.” After the accident, Maddie fashioned a splint hoping the crushed bones would heal. The yellowing bruises from her fall still mottled her creamy skin. “I cannot move you yet. Do not argue with me.”
“I feel fine. You need not mollycoddle me.”
~ * ~
A fortnight after Cat’s accident, Duncan sat at his desk in the counting room beside the Hall trying to concentrate on balancing his accounts, but his mind kept drifting back to her pleas to leave the room. His spunky Cat was too restless to stay abed much longer.
Her scream made his heart stop. He dashed up the steps two at a time, dropping to his knee beside her as she lay on the floor. Taking her in his arms, he offered soothing words. “‘Tis all right, a leannan.” Picking her up, he placed her gently atop the bed. Her face deathly pale, Catherine’s chest rose and fell with sobs. They tore at his heart.
“When I tri...tried to walk, my right leg felt leaden. The pain was horrible.”
Duncan’s heart broke as wrenching despair flashed across her features.
Knowing the leg would take a long time to heal, he told Catherine, “You must begin exercises that will rebuild muscles in your back and leg.” He leaned over and positioned pillows around her. He sat beside her, gently kneading and massaging the muscles that weren’t covered by the splint. The smallest movement sent shocks of pain though her, but he encouraged her. “I realize it hurts, but if you do not exercise, you shall not regain your strength.”
Her jaw clenched and moisture covered her face. He was proud of his wee wife for not uttering one word of protest and following his instruction with no complaint. She grimaced, but stoically bit back her moans.
He smiled and moved his hands down to her foot, again massaging the tightened muscles. Smoothing his thumbs along the slim arch, he slowly moved the foot back and forth.
“I am going to roll you onto your stomach now.” He gently rolled her over, proceeded to deeply massage her back and the backs of her legs.
With her face buried against the pillow, she brushed away her tears at each kneading motion, hoping he wouldn’t notice. She knew Duncan meant well, but merciful heavens how it hurt. She jerked when he exerted too much pressure. “Duncan, stop!”
He circled her with his arms. His fingers stroked her back and he kissed away her tears.
Exhausted, she rested against his broad chest and relaxed.
Resting after a strenuous workout with Duncan, Catherine rolled over on the bed and saw an unfamiliar woman steal into the chamber. Catherine stared at her, but didn’t recognize the woman. As the woman drew closer, recognition dawned. Tanner's mother! She looked as if she’d aged two score years. The woman, when she’d seen her at Tanner’s funeral, was still handsome for her age. This woman was wasted by grief. Tears welled in Catherine’s eyes.
“You dinnae know me...” the woman whispered hoarsely, her eyes mad with pain.
Cat swallowed empathic pain. “You are Tanner's mother.”
“Was...are no more. My precious son lies cold in the grave because of ye. My braw young lad, only six and ten summers, had his throat cut because ye, Lady High and Mighty, couldnae stay in yer laird’s house like a good wife shouldst. His death is yer fault. Who will die next protecting ye? Ye are cursed. Ye bring naught but death and doom.”
Her hand flying to her chest, Catherine screamed. Duncan and Angus rushed up the steps and slammed open the door. They charged into the room, saw a mad woman leaning close to the bed, screaming at Catherine.
Duncan subdued her. Motioning to Angus, the two men ushered the woman out of the solar. Below the stairs, Duncan motioned Alex forward and ordered, “Help Angus take Martha back to her home. She is distraught and needs someone looking after her.”
He rushed back up to console Catherine.
Refusing to tell Duncan what the woman said, she sat on the bed shaking, crying uncontrollably, until she thought she might shatter into a thousand pieces, the distraught face of Tanner's mother burned into her mind.
~ * ~
Catherine spent the next moon doing exercises, swallowing fears she wasn’t getting better. Thoughts of Tanner’s mother never far from her mind.
She was frustrated she couldn’t remember more about the man who’d forced her over the side of the hill. One thing stuck in her mind. The man had paid no heed to Meggie when she turned to run home. He told me he uses me to get back at Duncan. Still, Meggie could have been hurt while in the woods without me. I’d never forgive myself. And Duncan. The man thinks me the weak link in Duncan’s protective armour. What if he is injured trying to protect me? Didn’t Tanner die a needless death because he guarded me? Visions of Tanner’s mother flashed through her mind. She remembered the woman’s tortured words, “Who will die next protecting ye?” I cannot allow another to be injured because of me.
Duncan spent hours working with her. His arms were firmly around her, holding her up while she tried to take a step and move her leg. Every time she stepped on it, pains shot up her back and down her leg, causing it to buckle. After all these sennights, she still couldn’t walk.
For the first time Catherine considered she might never walk again. I cannot do that to Duncan. Knowing how he was mistreated as a child because of health problems, he’d never turn someone in need away. He’d keep me here and care for me. But can I ask him to do that? Watching me would be a constant reminder of all the things he went through in his youth. Protecting me might cost him his life. Tanner died because of me. How can I stay and continue putting Duncan and Meggie at risk?
She slumped deeper under the bedcovers before making a decision. Calling for Siobhán, she asked for a piece of parchment. She sat, quill in hand, and pondered all that had happened. Recalled every word Martha said. Wondering what details she should give him, she wrote a note to her brother.
~ * ~
Yet again, Duncan tried to help her walk, and once more she couldn’t. Weak with exhaustion, her legs trembled. “Let me try it on my own,” she grumbled.
“Nay, I shall not allow you to fall.”
“I must try. I do not wish to have you mollycoddle me every minute.”
“I am not mollycoddling you. I but wish to help.”
Trevor appeared in the doorway, headed to Catherine’s side. “I got here as quickly as I could. Tell me what happened, Cat.” He ran his hand gently over her arm.
She threw her arms around his neck in greeting. “Trevor!”
“What right do you have to barge in here without a by your leave?” Duncan queried, his voice tight. The man was Cat’s brother, but that didn’t mean he liked her being in
Gillingham’s arms.
Trevor snapped back, “Catherine’s actually. She wrote and told me to come fetch her.”
Duncan’s jaw set. “By all the saints, fetch her where you please. When she is ready to travel. Not before.” He stormed from the room, his expression black.
~ * ~
Over the next days, Trevor watched his sister closely, wondered if Duncan would let her go. Mayhap he wouldn’t want a wife who could never walk again. Somehow he had trouble believing this of the man. Would he convince Catherine her injuries didn’t matter or would this be a way to set her aside?
Trevor found it difficult to watch Catherine do Duncan’s bidding. He thought Duncan right in thinking Cat needed to gain her strength back, but he thought the pigheaded Scotsman handled her too harshly. Why would he work so hard to see her walk again if he wanted to be rid of her? These questions troubled his mind.
Or had Cat been right from the beginning? Was her husband naught but a monster?
One afternoon he stood beside the hearth in thought. Duncan’s entrance drew him from his reflections. Fed up with the man’s behavior, he snapped, “How dare you be so heartless? Cat cannot withstand the discomfort you put her through daily.”
Duncan ignored his brother by marriage and grabbed a tankard of ale. At least Catherine wasn’t here to see him. She harped at him all the time about drinking. Kept saying it wasn’t pleasing to God.
“They help. I’ll not stop.”
“They do no good,” Trevor spat. “She walks no better now than when first I arrived.” His eyes narrowed as he watched his brother-in-law. “I plan to take Cat back to London on the morrow.”
Duncan closed the distance between them. “Over my dead body,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Easily arranged,” Trevor snarled. “Tell me where and when and I shall happily handle that minor detail.” He threw his goblet against the massive hearth.
“I will not fight you, Gillingham.” Duncan sighed. “I could not do that to Cat. She loves you too much.”
“You think you would win?” Trevor snorted.
Duncan evaded. “I said I will not fight you. Cat is in enough pain without discovering her husband and brother at each other’s throats whilst she lies helplessly abed.”
“You cannot stop me from—” Trevor began.
“I bloody well can—”
“Stop it.” Tamara Gray strode into the room eyeing both men with disgust. “You both act like spoiled bairns. Think of that beautiful woman lying abed up those stairs.”
“I am,” Duncan and Trevor said in one voice. Their heads snapped to the other, glaring.
“Amadan,” Duncan growled lowly.
“I assume that is some form of insult.” Trevor sneered.
“It means fool,” Duncan chuckled.
“There is a fool present all right, but ‘tis not me,” Trevor retorted.
“Enough! Both of you.”
Trevor turned to look at the woman who had the audacity to yell at him. He stared, awestruck by the beauty of the woman in high dudgeon before him. Her bright red hair and flashing green eyes saw her the picture of a warrior woman ready to protect her loved ones. A warrior he’d love to tame. One whose image had haunted him since he’d first seen her in London.
Trevor pushed his attraction aside and gathered enough wits to defend himself. “I think only of Cat.” He jerked his thumb toward Duncan. “Your brother tortures her. I have seen her cry.”
“Go home then and you will not have to see.” Duncan slammed the tankard down on the trestle table.
Speaking words he loathed, Trevor said, “‘Tis clear she shan’t walk again. I shall take Catherine home where she can find peace.”
Duncan’s mouth opened, but Tamara stayed his words with a raised hand. She spoke to Trevor. “This is her home.” Trevor started to argue, but she shot him a silencing look. “Your sister is married, Lord Gillingham, whether you approve or not. She is my brother’s wife. ‘Tis time you realize your sister is an adult and leave her to live the life your father chose.”
Trevor was shocked by the sensibility of her words. Not only was she beautiful, but intelligent. He met and held her eyes. “I never approved of Father’s actions.”
Tamara stepped closer and placed her hand gently on his forearm. “Naetheless, my lord, she is wed. Please let my brother and your sister live their own lives.”
His eyes shot daggers at Duncan. “He hurts her.”
“Nay,” she said calmingly, “he does not.”
Trevor’s jaw flexed in frustration, but anger no longer edged his voice. “How can you say that? Have you not heard her screams?”
“I have,” she said gently while motioning Duncan to leave. “I love Catherine, too.” She steered Trevor toward the fire. “Do you not realize what it does to Duncan every time Cat cries out? Instead of being angry with my brother, watch his face when she cries out. ‘Tis as a dirk to his heart.”
“He cares not—”
“Och, there you are wrong. My brother loves Cat verra much.”
“He abandoned her,” Trevor argued.
“Aye, he did.” She tried to be patient. “But that was a long time ago. Now he wishes he could take back both those words and his actions.”
Trevor shot her a look of incredulity.
“Have you never made a mistake, Lord Gillingham?” When he didn’t answer, she said, “There are circumstances you do not understand, but Duncan does love your bonnie sister. As do I.”
Trevor looked ready to protest, but she raised her finger and laid it gently against his lips to stop him. His eyes locked on her and an odd expression crossed his face. Tamara froze. The way he was staring at her! Merciful saints, what had she just done? It wasn’t proper to touch him. She snatched back her hand. Embarrassed, heat crept up her neck as she dared to look into his eyes.
They burned into hers. It had been a long time since she’d seen a look like that. Not since her husband had carried her to their bed. A shiver of excitement snaked down her spine. She moved away, his body too close. Radiating heat. Making her forget her words.
She drew a shaky breath and tried to blot out the images flashing through her mind. Wanton images of moving closer and placing her hand on his chest. She gulped. “If my brother could, he would change places with your sister with every beat of his heart, would take her pain upon himself.”
Trevor watched her, unable to tear his eyes from her face.
“Your husband is a fortunate man, Lady Gray.” Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he couldn’t believe the thoughts he’d just had when she’d raised her finger. His lips burned where she’d touched them. He’d frightened her, had seen it in her eyes. Never in his life had he wanted another man’s wife.
He did now.
Tamara’s eyes clouded with regret. “My husband is dead, killed seven years past during one of Scotland’s battles. ‘Tis why I wish to see my brother’s marriage salvaged.” She turned away, but wasn’t quick enough to hide her anguish. “I wish one of us to be happy.”
Pleased to hear she wasn’t wed, he was unable to take his eyes from her face. He shifted again, hoping she didn’t notice his discomfort.
~ * ~
Trying to slow his breathing and gentle his thoughts, Duncan entered their room, saw Catherine leaned against the bolstering pillows on the bed. He went over and sat beside her, picked up her hand and held it between his own.
Catherine’s eyes shot to his as he gently rubbed his thumb over her palm.
“Your brother thought to take you back to London.” Duncan raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I nay-sayed him.”
“But—”
“Why did you write him?” After all he’d done to help her, she’d written to her brother behind his back. Asked him to come fetch her. He’d been such a fool. At the first sign of trouble, she wanted to leave. “I thought Cray Hall was your home.”
“I place everyone in danger being here.”
“Wha
t nonsense do you speak?”
“The man who attacked me came after me to get to you. He told me that in London. But what if he’d chased after Meggie merely because she was with me?”
Duncan’s brows furrowed in a frown.
“Duncan, I love her too much to put her in danger. To put everyone here in danger. Who knows what such a madman has planned? ‘Tis best if I leave. Then you will not have to protect me—or get hurt trying.” She tugged away her hand and sat straighter in bed. “I know how inconvenient it must be having me here. Accept Trevor’s offer.”
Duncan’s eyes turned as hard as steel. “You are home! You are my lady wife and shall not leave. ‘Tis my duty to protect you, and a madman’s threats will not stop me from doing so.” His jaw clenched, daring her to contradict him.
“Surely the king would not expect you to remain with a cripple. I am not afraid of returning to London. I—”
“I know,” Duncan shouted in exasperation, jumping up from the bed to leave the room. “You are afraid of naught—except needing me.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Duncan stood in the doorway to his chamber, pleased his brother by marriage was gone. Thanks to Tamara’s intervention, Trevor returned home alone. Meghan was curled at Cat’s side listening to her weave a tale of faeries. Catherine had spent the last sennight drawing a book for Meghan with whimsical creatures. Each time they perused the tiny drawings she created a new story. Duncan delighted in seeing the look of joy on his daughter’s face as they read the book together, a single candle nearby.
Catherine wore a wildflower in her hair, obviously a gift from his ever-thoughtful daughter. Though she’d been all smiles with Meghan, she grimaced at his approach. “Can we not forego this? I really do not feel like—”
“You are the one who told your brother you wish to leave,” he shot at her, more upset than he cared to admit over her writing Trevor to come fetch her. “You shall not contrary me about our sessions.”
“Do not tell me what I cannot do,” she said in aggravation. “Tell me what I can.”
Her Highland Destiny Page 19