by Lynda Lukow
His body paid no heed. He cursed the animal within and gazed at the far wall. She flattened her palms on his chest and pushed.
He placed his hand atop hers. “Hush, Kasey. Let me warm ye.”
She rolled away, whimpered, and rolled back. She shoved him again. “Ye dinna belong here.”
“Save yer strength to battle the fever.”
Tears rolled down her face.
“Be ye in pain?”
“I canna find him.”
“Who?”
“Hunter. He said I belonged by his side.”
Connor pulled her tighter. “Ye do, love.”
“He dinna keep his word.”
“I shall.”
“I need him.” She kicked his shin. “Leave me be. Hunter willna come with ye here.”
“I be Hunter. I have forsaken ye not.” She did not respond. “Kasey?”
He doubted she grasped his confession, but she would. Very soon. He had so much to answer for. Would she ever forgive him? As the demons of remorse rode his back, slumber claimed him, too.
A tap on the door roused Connor. He disentangled his limbs, rose, and pulled on his trews. He picked up his tunic.
Broderick entered the room unbidden. His gaze hardened as he focused on Connor’s bare trunk.
In no mood for a quarrel, Connor headed toward the door. When he came within range, Broderick’s fist met his jaw.
Connor reeled, but saw the next punch coming. He grabbed the emissary’s hand, shoved him into the corridor, then freed him. “Dinna attempt such foolishness again, old man.”
His warning fell on deaf ears. He ducked the next strike.
The force behind the jab caused the older man to lose his balance and fall to the floor.
Connor offered him a hand. Instead he had to sidestep Broderick’s kick. His patience neared its end. The rage on Broderick’s face told him the man would not be reasonable. Connor turned and walked down the corridor.
Quick, heavy footsteps drew nearer. At the right moment, Connor stopped and stuck out his foot.
Broderick flew a short distance before he thudded to the stone floor.
Conner walked over and sat on the prone man’s back. He applied just enough weight to pin him. “What troubles ye, mon?”
“I thought ye a man of honor, worthy of Lady Cameron.”
“Ye have had a change of heart?”
“Ye think a shared goblet of wine matches a priest’s blessing? The lady lies on her deathbed, and ye act like a rutting stag.”
“Ye assume much.” He could not ignore the anger in Broderick’s blue eyes. He studied the older man’s face. It could not be, could it? But that would explain Broderick’s propriety toward Lady Cameron. He shook his head. He had no time for daft notions. “Had ye asked, I would have told ye every cover in the keep dinna stem the lady’s shivers. We both ken the body be the best source of heat. I assure ye, her maidenhead remains intact.”
“Be ye comfortable, Laird Mackintosh?”
Discomfited, Connor rose and bowed to his king. Again he offered his hand to Broderick, who growled and rose without aid.
He shrugged and turned back to his liege. “My apologies, sire. Broderick and I be having a slight disagreement.”
“I would hate to witness a full blown argument betwixt ye. Clear the way, lads, I wish to see the lady.”
Connor raised a brow. The shape and hue of the king’s eyes matched Kasey’s, too. “Yer majesty, the lady rests. Please consider a delay.”
“Her condition begs immediate answers.”
“This way, my liege.” Broderick glared at Connor as he led the king to Kasey’s chamber. “If I may, yer majesty, how did ye arrive so soon? Yer guard could not have reached Inverness yet.”
“I tired of waiting. After I dispatched ye to the Cameron’s, I decided to take matters into my own hands,” the king turned to Connor, “as have others. Since Laird Mackintosh be not at his keep, his destination be no mystery. On my way to the Cameron holding, my contingent diverted me here.”
“May I attend yer interview, sire?” Kasey would not deny her king the truths Connor sought.
The king nodded and warned, “Ye will not utter a word, laird, or I shall have ye removed.”
“Agreed. I have but one request, sire.” At the king’s nod Connor continued, “Please dinna tell her I be Hunter. She believes a stranger holds her for ransom.”
“I never thought ye a fool, Connor, but I may reconsider. Ye finally have yer jewel in hand. For what purpose do ye deceive her?”
Connor hung his head. “I fear she will blame me for all she has endured.”
“Do ye wish to have the betrothal set aside, laird?”
“Nay!”
“Ye have until the day after her fever breaks to right yer wrongs.”
Connor nodded, then followed the king and Broderick into Kasey’s chamber. She lay on her belly, her head turned to the left. Connor and Broderick veered to the right. The king pulled over a chair and sat before her. “Lady Cameron?”
Kasey blinked several times. She must be dreaming. She grinned at the absurdity of the king’s presence.
“I be sorry to rouse ye.”
She tried to push her body up, but her uninjured arm would not support her. “Please forgive me, sire. I canna seem to rise.”
“A simple nod will suffice.”
“My liege.” Kasey nodded. “Be ye here to take me to prison? Or to cut off my hand?”
“What say ye?”
She muttered about his accusation and the special tax. Several times over she swore her innocence.
“I have leveled no accusation agin ye. In time, ye will learn the truth of the levy.” His patted her hand. “Do ye ken the cause of yer ague?”
Kasey swallowed. Her throat felt as dry as a dammed river. She feared her laird’s consequences should he discover she had been disloyal—again. “Shall I soon return to my clan?”
Someone grunted behind her back, but she had not the strength to turn her head.
“Has no one told ye, milady?” He glared past her. “I have granted yer betrothal.”
“The delay must displease Laird Grant.” She wondered if death by fever would be more merciful than the Grant’s means.
“How does this concern Alain Grant?”
Though the king handled more important matters than her betrothal, he should at least remember to whom he pledged her.
“My commander as well as Laird MacPherson have informed me of your circumstances. I must know who has beaten ye, milady. If ye fear repercussions, understand that ye remain under my protection.”
Had he not made the same claim before she left Inverness? Still, she must answer him. “Randall.”
“For what crime?”
“Crimes.” She dragged herself to the edge of the pallet and reached for the goblet on the trunk. The bitter water slaked her thirst. “My memory fogs, but I think the first came after I tended a lad who had also suffered the whip.”
“And the freshest?”
“Like each afore, a lashing followed your emissary’s visit.”
The king’s neck reddened. “By whose order?”
She had said too much already. If Laird Grant bade the king to set aside the betrothal, she would be returned to the Cameron den. She had no doubt the laird would strike her down just as he had her mother.
“Answer me!”
“Laird Cameron, but I believe he feared the whip. His hands shook aneath the table. His breath grew ragged. His forehead beaded with sweat.”
“Hell’s demons!” Anger flashed in the king’s eyes.
“Have I misspoken?”
“Nay, Kasey.” His expression softened as he rose. “I keep ye too long from yer rest.”
She yawned. “Sire, if I may, I have a question.”
“Aye?”
“I have heard naught of Hunter. Did he live?”
The king glared past her. “Thus far.”
Connor led the others from Kasey
’s chamber. He leaned his forehead against the corridor’s cool wall. In her innocence, Kasey did not understand the beatings had given her laird perverted pleasure. She had recalled with such clarity the signs of a man at his completion. Signs that she should not yet have witnessed.
“Ye looked exhausted, Connor. Get some rest. I shall stay with Kasey.”
“Guilt gnaws away at ye, too, Broderick?” He did not wait for an answer before he walked into Kasey’s chamber and shut the door.
He slumped onto the seat the king had used and stared at the shell of the woman he loved. He doubted he would ever learn all she had endured, but he could understand why she had changed.
Though he had always marveled at her strength and determination, he had no idea her wells ran so deep. Should her supplies run dry, his love would sustain them through any hardships they may meet. For the first time since she had taken ill, he had absolute faith she would recover, both body and mind.
He would begin by revealing his identity. He had no doubt, after a shave and a haircut, one look into his eyes would convince her Hunter had returned.
She could be as furious as she wished over his deception, for her anger would burn away her bitterness and begin healing her spirit. He might have to work to regain her trust, but she could not hold a grudge for long. He would prove himself worthy of her hand and her love. Aye, Kasey would live, and he would do whatever necessary to restore her to the woman she had been.
“Laird Mackintosh? Laird MacPherson wishes to see ye in the great hall.”
“I canna leave Kasey’s side, Maggie.”
“In all these years ye have changed not. After the lady gets well, I shall take her aside and tell her how to deal with ye.” Maggie crossed the room, pinched Connor’s earlobe, and pulled him to his feet.
“Unhand me, woman. Ye ken I could throw ye out the window with but a flick of my wrist.”
“Ye could, but ye willna.” She chuckled. “Dinna think ye be too old or too big to turn ye over my knee, milord.”
She dragged him to the doorway. “Yer first duty be protecting yer lady, and Euan seeks yer counsel on that verra matter.” She shoved him into the corridor and slammed the door in his face.
Connor rubbed his lobe. Maggie’s back might be more hunched and her hair might be grayer, but she pinched as hard as she did when he was a lad. She had been his salvation after his mother’s death. Lord knew, he had tried her patience on countless occasions, but she had never failed to correct his misdeeds with her loving words—and an occasional pinch.
Confident she could tend Kasey better than he, Connor strode to the great hall. He gagged and tears came to his eyes. “The Mackintoshes slaughter their fare outdoors.”
“As do the MacPhersons.” Euan beckoned him to the head table. “Yer potion’s stench better not linger forever.”
“The odor decreases as the cure simmers,” Gavin said.
Connor bowed to the king, then sat at the table. “Be Broderick nursing his wounded pride?”
“I advise ye, Connor, to respect my cousin. I intended to deny yer petition.” The king held up his hand when Connor opened his mouth. “My father bore the guilt of arranging a violent union and warned me well to remove myself from such matters. Without Broderick’s vexations, I would have heeded my father’s counsel.”
“I shall have to thank him.”
“Aye.”
Connor turned to Gavin. “I told Annie all I remembered about Dragon’s Breath, but I canna be sure I remember all.”
“We have already spoken on the matter, brother.”
“Thank ye.” Connor looked at Euan. “Ye summoned me?”
The men spent the rest of the day huddled at the table. Discussions included the MacPherson holding’s protection and the punishment Douglas Cameron would face.
Connor contributed little. His mind drifted to the woman abovestairs. By the time Euan set candles on the table, he could no longer abide the distance between them.
He had reached the foot of the stairs when Maggie called from the top.
“Milord, do ye ken where milady be?”
The cleft between Maggie’s brows and the way she worried her hands tightened Connor’s chest. “Annie be in the kitchens making salve. Be aught amiss?”
“Yer lady’s brow feels hotter than when ye first arrived.”
He bounded up the stairs as Maggie ran down. He found Ciara holding a goblet to Kasey’s lips. On the chest next to the bed lay an open pouch of vervain.
He flew across the room and knocked the goblet from Ciara’s hand. It clanked across the floor. Its contents soaked the rushes.
He knelt by Kasey’s side and, with his thumb, wiped moisture from her cracked lips. He inhaled the wetness and smelled naught. He turned narrowed eyes back to Ciara.
“What in blazes be wrong with ye?”
He snatched the pouch and held it out.
“Good God, Connor. The vervain be for me.” Ciara rubbed her forehead. “I be relieved our future holds no union. Yer ignorance far exceeds mine.”
She walked around him and dipped a cloth in the basin. After she wrung it out, she lifted it toward her own brow.
He cleared his throat.
With a sigh she laid the linen on Kasey’s brow.
He placed the vervain in her hand. “I shall see to her until Annie arrives. Go lie down.”
“Kasey will get through this, milord.” She curtsied and slipped out just before Annie lumbered in.
Maggie, followed by six women carrying pails of water, entered the chamber soon after.
Annie placed her hand on Connor’s arm. “Go rest.”
“Where be the Dragon’s Breath?”
“Simmering over the fire. Until it be ready we will cool her with another bath.”
“Be there naught else ye can do?”
“Not unless ye can hurry forth the sands of time.” Annie patted his cheek. “Go and rest. The circles under yer eyes look darker than night.”
“I shall sleep here.”
“If ye willna rest, then go and eat.”
“I be not hungry.”
“Yer presence keeps us from tending the lady.”
Connor clasped his hands behind his back. His sister’s game had kept him from Kasey before, but it would not work again. “I shall see her body soon enough.”
“Would ye taint yer joy by remembering her thus?”
“Would ye mar my wedding night by hiding aught else?” Connor rubbed his neck. Annie did not deserve suspicion. “Had I not seen her back afore our wedding night, dinna ye think my reaction would have crushed what little pride she still has?”
“I swear to ye, Connor, there be naught else ye need to know. Please, let us cool her.”
“If it makes ye more comfortable, I shall turn my back.”
Annie sighed. “If ye turn to face us, I shall scratch out yer eyes.”
Connor carried a chair to the window. His eyelids grew heavy as he gazed out. Someday he and Kasey would walk the heather-covered hills at the Mackintosh holding. At first he would share the beauty with no one save her. Later their sons and daughters would surround them.
A touch to his shoulder drew him from sleep’s embrace. Without opening his eyes, he clasped delicate fingers and smiled. “It be aboot time ye joined me, Kasey.”
The fingers pulled away. “Connor, hie yerself to bed. Maggie will stay with yer lady.”
He blinked a few times, then looked over at his sister, bathed in the moon’s glow. “I meant only to rest my eyes, Annie.”
“Ye be worn to the bone.”
“How fares Kasey?”
“We have not yet won the battle.”
If the enemy attacking the flushed woman could be touched, he would slay the beast. “Ye and Maggie need to rest. The next time her fever rages ye will use the Dragon’s Breath.”
Annie sighed. “I be too weary to argue.”
“Thank ye, Annie.” Connor walked his sister to the door and kissed her cheek. “I kn
ow not what I would do without yer aid.”
After she nodded, he closed the door. He crossed to Kasey’s pallet and stroked her hair. “Hold on a wee bit longer, love.”
Chapter Seventeen
Connor roused to a nicker. Two shadows dismounted and slunk toward the manor house door. Though Euan’s men would not allow a breach, Connor could not risk a lapse. He pulled a dagger from Kasey’s boot and crept behind the door.
His heart thundered when the door creaked open. He grabbed the intruder’s hair and placed the dirk at his throat.
The intruder raised his hands. “I mean the lady no harm.”
“Dillon?” Connor lowered the blade. “Ye be lucky I dinna cut ye.”
A scream rent the air.
Connor shoved Dillon behind him and wheeled to face Evonne. “Ye need not wake the entire keep.”
Too late. Euan and Gavin, swords in hands, ran toward them. “See to yer bride, brother.”
Gavin pulled Evonne to him and kissed her deeply.
Jealousy nipped at Connor’s heart. “Mayhap ye should adjourn to yer chamber.”
Evonne curtsied. “May I see milady first?”
Connor looked over his shoulder. “Despite the din, she rests. Ye may see her in the morn.”
After his brother carried Evonne from the room, Connor clapped Dillon’s back. His brother winced. Connor dragged him closer to the candle’s glow. “Remove yer tunic, brother.”
“Why, milord?”
“Question me not.”
Dillon doffed the garment. “Do ye wish to count the hairs on my chest? A few more have sprouted.”
“Turn around.” When his brother did not move fast enough, Connor spun him.
“Dinna concern yerself. Thanks to yer lady’s salve I be healing well.”
Like a plaid, the threads wove together. The whip forged the bond between Kasey and Dillon. When she tickled his brother at the stream, she played after assuring his health. He had no right or reason to envy his brother. Or blame him. Though Kasey suffered after tending Dillon, her choice to heal Connor had set the course. “Did ye ken the lady endured the same abuse?”
“What?” Dillon faced him. “Nay. I would have told ye.”