by Cathy MacRae
“What does the healer say?” Elliot asked.
“She needs to be in a bed so we can fully tend to her.”
“Choose some men and take her home. Ye are in no shape to fight with yer mind on her condition,” Kenneth said.
Duncan nodded. He summoned five men, and they moved her pallet to a cart. Trean rose from the shadows outside her tent, and Duncan gingerly placed him into the back of the cart, where he curled up at his mistress’ back. The men mounted and started the trek back to Ciardun.
The day-and-a-half trip proved uneventful, though the fever never loosened its grip. Fiona stayed by Anna’s side, cooling her with wet cloths when she burned, wrapping her in blankets when she was chilled. Trean repeatedly licked her face, but Anna did not regain consciousness. As soon as they arrived at the castle, Duncan carried her to his chamber. Trean trailed him up the stairs and lay in the corner by the hearth. Mairi and Nessa stripped her out of the foul clothes she wore and Duncan took and burned them, cursing MacNairn as he did. When he returned, the ladies had cleaned Anna as much as they could, ridding her of the foul MacNairn stench, and dressed her in a night shift.
“Ye must be tired and hungry from yer journey. Go, eat and bathe. We will watch,” Mairi encouraged him.
Duncan’s eyes did not leave Anna. “I cannae. ’Tis my fault she lies so close to death. I willnae leave her side until she is well.”
Duncan felt his mother’s hand on his arm. “How is this yer fault?”
He took a deep breath and confessed his actions the day Anna was abducted. Mairi didn’t hide her shock. Neither spoke for several moments. Finally, Mairi squeezed his shoulder.
“Ye of all people know how strong Anna is. She will make it through this.”
He met his mother’s gaze. “Ye dinnae see the condition she was in when she escaped. MacNairn starved and imprisoned her the entire time in his dungeon, in spite of her wound. She was in shock, barely able to stand when she found us. I know she is strong, but a body can only take so much. I fear for her life. I willnae leave her side until the fever releases its grip.”
A soft kiss touched his cheek. “Ye will find a way to make it up to her, and ye will put these petty jealousies aside. I will have a meal sent.”
When the tray came, so did Fiona with a fresh kettle for the fire. “I am off to sleep, but will return on the morrow. Keep her cool. Make her drink a small amount of this brew every two or three hours. Ye need to eat and rest yerself. ’Twill be a long battle afore she comes round.”
The door closed softly, leaving Duncan alone with his thoughts as he sat vigil over the woman he loved. They both slept fitfully. Duncan stirred at every groan and movement she made. Anna muttered in her sleep, speaking to unknown people in different languages, including a language unlike any Duncan had heard before. He guessed it was the tongue of her mentor.
As she rambled, bits and pieces fell together. Duncan listened closely to her whispered words, and what he heard broke his heart. She pled for acceptance and spoke of longing to find a place in a world which considered her neither English nor Scot. Her words faded in and out of coherence, but her heartache remained.
Duncan touched her hot, dry cheek, tracing his fingers along the face he loved. She turned into his caress, tears leaking onto his hand.
“Duncan, I am sorry…please don’t leave me.” Her voice cracked and she quietly sobbed.
He wanted to reply, realizing she spoke from the depths of her torment. Her fevered state lowered her protective walls and her anguish poured forth. He sat powerless, listening to her beg for his love, hearing her admit her feelings of unworthiness—all because of his words of jealousy.
’Twas too much. The shame of what he had done to her tore through him without mercy. He had grievously injured her, mind, body and soul. He’d been right all along—he didn’t deserve her. Selfishly, Duncan also knew he could not live without her. He pledged he would never allow anything to happen to her again if the Fates would only allow her to live. He would spend the rest of his days winning her trust, her love.
At the end of the third day, the fever released its grip, her skin cooling. However, she remained deep asleep.
“Her breathing is shallower than it should be,” Duncan observed.
“Tis likely due to the pain. Broken ribs dinnae allow deep breathing,” Fiona answered.
Broken ribs didn’t explain her pallor or weakened heartbeat.
He turned to the pot on the fire. “What is that?” Finally, something out of Fiona’s kettle smelled pleasant.
“’Tis an infusion of peppermint and thistle. ’Twill help spur her body to wakefulness when she’s ready. She was verra weak when she came to us. ’Tis no surprise she needs more rest to heal.”
Her words provided a small comfort. Nothing could be done but watch and wait. Trean’s wound had scabbed over and appeared to be healing nicely. Duncan barely detected signs of his previous limp. The two of them maintained a silent vigil over Anna. Slow agony as the sun rose, traversed the sky then set again. Meals were brought, but Duncan could have been eating sand for all he knew. The morn of the fifth day brought a change.
“Water.”
’Twas a mere croak of a whisper, but it brought him out of his torpor. Trean whined and placed his paws on the bed. Starting from his chair, Duncan looked into Anna’s eyes, relieved at last to see life behind them. He filled a cup of water and gently raised it to her lips. She took a few sips, then returned to sleep. ’Twas enough. Hope soared in his chest.
News of her progress spread throughout the castle. Mairi and Nessa took turns sitting with her. Her grandda sat at her bedside each day for an hour or so, creating an uncomfortable silence between him and Duncan. Word of why she was alone at the loch had spread. Though he never said anything, Duncan knew Elliot seethed. Part of him hoped Elliot would thrash him, if for no other reason than to assuage his guilt. On the day her fever broke, Moray Elliot made his daily afternoon visit.
Pouring wine into two cups, he handed one to Duncan.
“When I first married Anna’s grandmam, God rest her soul, I was a stubborn and foolish young man, and laird, so I thought I always knew best. Morna had a way of seeing into people that was canny and unexplainable. She told me a cousin, who was like a brother to me, plotted my death, hoping to take my place. At first, I was shocked to hear such a thing. When I asked for her proof, she told me she had naught, just her intuition. I became furious, accusing her of creating dissention. I said terrible things to her in anger.”
Duncan shifted in his seat, unable to hide his surprise.
“She ignored the hateful words and tried to reason with me, but I wouldnae have it. I told her she was wrong and to never speak of it again.” The pain of remembering was etched on his face.
“What happened?”
“My brother overheard our cousin making plans to ambush me with men he paid to do the deed. This way, my blood would be on their hands. He wouldnae be suspected. We went to the elder council, which included my uncle, with the story. They suggested we allow the plan to play out, insisting at the last minute my cousin accompany me. Our men surrounded them at the ambush site, stopping the attack. My uncle confronted his son. He denied it, but it dinnae take much persuasion to loosen the tongues of his hired thugs. He was hanged for his betrayal. ’Twas a dark stain on our clan for many years.”
Elliot took a long drink, as if to wash away the bitterness of the memory. “Morna and I lived as strangers for three months, from the time she told me, to the time I discovered the truth. I knew I had badly damaged the one person who loved me above all others—the one I could truly trust with my life.”
“How did ye get her to forgive ye?”
Elliot pinned Duncan with a hard expression. “I did exactly what ye will do when Anna wakes. Beg her forgiveness. Convince her ’twill never happen again. Tell her she is the most important thing in yer life, and ye cannae live without her. If ye dinnae, I will thrash ye within an inch of yer life, then t
ake her home when she is well enough to travel. Ye willnae be welcome on Elliot land, and ’twill be a cold day in hell before ye get close enough to hurt her again. I can protect her from the evil of such men as the earl. She will be safe amongst her kin.”
The force of emotion behind his words startled Duncan, but no more than he deserved. “What if she willnae come around? I dinnae deserve her forgiveness.”
“Nae, neither did I, but she will forgive ye if she is convinced ye love her and vow not to indulge in such foolishness again. Women have a greater capacity for forgiveness than we men. ’Tis especially true with the ones they hold most dear. We mock the softer feelings of women until ’tis is the verra thing we need. Swallow yer pride, son. Win her back.”
“Pride?” Duncan spread his hands. “I have no pride in this. I watch her every day and live with knowing I am the one who hurt her.” Duncan buried his head in his hands, ashamed of the tears threatening to fall.
Elliot placed his hand on his shoulder. “Aye, ye have the right of it. Ye will do just fine then. ’Twill be a wedding soon enough.”
* * *
Early that same evening, Anna opened her eyes. She glanced around the room, trying to understand why she felt like she’d picked a fight with Duff—and lost. No part of her body felt unbruised. Her head, especially, throbbed with pain. MacNairn! She was a prisoner of that foul beast. No, that couldn’t be right. She was in a familiar room—Duncan’s room. She blinked a few times, trying to reconnect all she knew. Threads of memory reformed. The abduction, MacNairn’s intentions for her, her escape. After that, details grew a bit fuzzy. Turning her head, she saw Lady MacGregor in a chair next to the bed, working on a square of embroidery.
Mairi noticed her wakefulness. “Thank the saints ye are awake! What can I get ye?”
Swallowing hard in an effort to speak, Anna whispered, “I need to use the privy.” Weak as a newborn lamb, Anna leaned heavily on the older woman while they stepped into the garderobe. Merely making her way back to bed exhausted her.
“I will fetch Duncan and Fiona,” Mairi said and moved toward the door.
“Wait,” Anna feebly replied, but Mairi had gone.
Duncan entered a few moments later, a haggard, yet hopeful look on his face.
She puzzled at his appearance—he looked as bad as she felt. “Duncan, what has happened to you?”
He smiled faintly in return. “I am fine, love. Ye are the one everyone has been fashed over.”
He called her ‘love’. Hope surged in her breast, but she warned herself not to put too much meaning behind it. “How long have I been here?”
“What do ye last remember?”
“I recall escaping that evil man, but everything after is murky.”
Duncan described events after she stumbled into camp, including her three days of fever, along with the past two. She absorbed his story, remembering more of her time with MacNairn. ’Twas then she felt a familiar cold nose on her hand.
“Trean!”
“Aye, he has rarely left yer side since we returned.”
“I thought him dead. I saw him felled by one of MacNairn’s men at the loch.”
“He has a wee scratch on his shoulder—all but healed. We found him following the trail of the men who took ye. He is a braw laddie. Other than being a mite skittish of people, he seems as tamed as a wolf can be.”
Anna stroked his muzzle while he licked her other hand.
“You still haven’t explained what has happened to you.” She took in Duncan’s gaunt appearance and the bruised circles under his eyes.
“He has nae left yer side these past five days,” Fiona answered as she bustled into the room. “We had to threaten him to eat what little he did, and he has nae had a full night’s rest for worry and watching over ye.”
Anna didn’t know how to respond to this news, but the hope she felt earlier increased tenfold.
“I will tell Cook to prepare a broth and to soak some bread in it. Isla will see a bath is sent up afterward. Do ye need anything else?” Fiona asked.
Anna shook her head. The one thing she needed, only Duncan could supply.
Fiona hurried from the room. Duncan sat in the chair next to the bed. He picked up her hand and, holding it to his lips, he kissed each finger.
“Anna, I beg ye forgive me. I cannae lose ye. Ye are my life. My words that day—I knew they were wrong the moment they left my mouth.”
Anna saw tears pool in his eyes. Though she regretted his pain, her heart leapt with the knowledge he still loved her.
“Duncan, ’tis not your fault. I was the one who rode away.”
His jaw clenched and his expression hardened. “Dinnae think to absolve me of this. I shamed ye in front of the men and others. I drove ye away with my senseless jealousy and anger. Because of my actions, ye almost died. I am the one who is supposed to honor ye, protect ye.” Bitterness filled his voice.
“Duncan, I am not Callum. It was not your fault then, and it is not your fault now. I will be well soon enough, and an evil man is dead. I should have been able to ride to the loch in peace to clear my head whilst you cleared yours. ’Tis not your fault an enemy took advantage of my solitude.”
He leaned over the bed and kissed her on the forehead. “Does this mean ye forgive me?”
The tortured look in his eyes was more than she could bear. She would have said or done anything to remove it. “Yes, I forgive you. I love you. You are to be my husband, aye?”
He hugged her, burying his face in her hair. “Aye, I will be yer husband if ye will still have me.”
Anna nodded. “Duncan, my love for you does not change simply because of a few harsh words spoken in anger.”
“Anna, the past nine days have cured my jealousies. If the words are important, ye have my vow I will never behave that way toward ye again, nor will I ever speak to ye out of anger in public. I am not foolish enough to believe we will never quarrel. Howbeit, I will save those words for when we are alone. The fear, guilt and humiliation I have lived through have conspired to scour my very soul.”
His confession and promise reassured her, but somewhat confused her. “I do not understand. Humiliation?”
Duncan gave a grim chuckle. “The men—yer men—knew exactly what happened. Though not a word was spoken, the anger aimed at me for days was unmistakable. I would fear for my life if ye were to leave us. Those same men volunteered without hesitation to rescue ye.”
She considered his words. While deeply moved by their loyalty, Anna didn’t wish it to be at Duncan’s expense. Not knowing how to respond, she reached for his lips instead. The kiss was born out of desperation and a hunger for what they’d almost lost. As it ended, he pressed light kisses all over her face and neck, until Anna couldn’t help but smile. When she opened her eyes, his gaze told her they were whole again.
Epilogue
Before dawn on her wedding day, serving lads brought a bath upstairs, fragrant oils scenting the water. Isla scrubbed her mercilessly and used a special mixture on her hair, creating a mass of glossy black waves. Wrapped in a warm robe, Anna sat while Nessa and Mairi dressed her hair.
They wove flowers and thin strips of gold fabric into the gathering of curls atop her head, allowing tendrils to drape loose around her face and shoulders. At last finished with her hair, the women carefully placed a gossamer-fine silk chemise over her head. Anna fingered the fabric in wonder.
“Mairi, where did you get this? It is quite beautiful, but is much like wearing nothing at all.”
Anna’s soon-to-be mother-by-law gave her a knowing smile and leaned in to whisper. “I never properly thanked ye for yer special gift to me. Kenneth was too embarrassed to thank ye, though he has enjoyed it as much as I. ’Twas only fitting to return the favor.”
Anna’s cheeks heated and her nervousness spiraled upward until she found it hard to breathe. Mairi poured her a cup of wine.
“I remember my wedding day. I was tender of nerves, also. The only advice I can offer i
s to think on the love ye share with Duncan. Remember the plans ye have made together. They will banish yer fears.” Mairi gave Anna a wink. “Taking a deep breath and a long drink helps also.”
Anna considered Mairi’s words as she drank. Perhaps a bit more wine to settle herself would be advisable. Not too much though. She didn’t want her wits addled when it came time to say her vows. She had time to drink another cup before the ladies finished buffing, fluffing and adjusting every part of her. With a bright smile, Nessa took her hand and led her to stand before the reflection disc mounted on the wall. Staring back at her was a woman Anna had never seen before.
Small white blossoms, interlaced with gold ribbon contrasted with her dark tresses. Her creamy complexion held a hint of pink, likely due to the wine. Her deep green eyes glowed, wide with anticipation, and the full pink lips of her mouth formed a graceful bow. The green velvet gown with gold trim highlighted her features, drawing the eye to a modest décolleté. Taller than the younger woman standing next to her, the dark-haired beauty in the mirror bore an air of nobility and grace. Anna continued to stare at this stranger, mesmerized by her reflection.
“I am—beautiful,” she said in disbelief.
“Ye have ever been, my dear. We only added a bit of polish,” Mairi replied.
“Do you think Duncan will be pleased? He has never seen me like this.” Uncertainty crept into Anna’s voice.
“I predict my son willnae be able to tear his eyes from ye.”
“What’s more, I dare say every man who sees ye will experience the same.” Nessa added, a pert grin on her face.
Anna did not care about the rest. She only wished to please Duncan.
A knock on the door signaled it was time to leave for the kirk. Anna floated down the stairs, her feet scarcely touching the stone. As she reached the bottom step, her grandfather waited, a tremulous smile on his face.