Chapter 9
It was done. His wee sister Seonag was a woman married. What a joyous day!
Dougal surveyed her grimly over the rim of his wine cup. She sat next to her husband in her wedding silks, joined to him by ordinance and the knotting of their tartans, as still as a statue and as grim as the grave. Dougal conjured the past memories of his laughing sister and placed it side by side with the present image of her, hard of face and glittering eyes. She almost looked like a stranger.
Dougal took a mouthful of spirits and felt it burn its way into him. He had half expected her to do something drastic, to refuse to get married right in front of everyone, to disappear from the castle. Seonag might be gentle and kind but she possessed a fierce defiant streak to her. That morning, he had waited anxiously for her to appear along with lady Caitir who had looked even more nervous. She was well aware of what her daughter might be capable of. So, when Seonag had appeared on her wedding silk, unnaturally pale and her eyes glittering with tears that might never fall he had felt an ease of his anxiousness and also the deeply biting feeling of shame and guilt. He had failed her as an older brother. Dougal recalled how fiercely she had pleaded with him; it had resonated in his ears through the ceremony taking a pause when he had seen Lili.
He'd thought she outshone even the bride. In a simple brightly coloured dressed that he supposed was the best of her outfit, she wore none of the face paint they had forced on Seonag and her beauty radiated touching him and soothing him. It had held him through the ceremony and when he was about to go to her simply for the purpose of being near her, smelling her scent and feeling her warmth the McLagan beat him to it. The same McLagan he had saved her from walked up to her as the crowd dispersed with a lily in his hand and presented it to her. She had received it with a smile, one she had never given him. A smile that showed pleasure.
Dougal had felt as if he had just received a violent wallop to the heart. Never had he felt such thirst for someone's blood, never had he taken a grim satisfaction in the vision of someone rendered limb from limb. It still astonished him now the strength of the bloodlust he had felt and what astonished him even more was the control he exerted over himself that enabled him to walk away.
He tipped the rest of his cup into his mouth, knowing he was drunk but not caring, he refilled his cup and looked up, like a dam breaking the din in the great hall washed over him. Everyone, it seemed was getting drunk like he was but for entirely different reasons, everyone except the bride and her groom. His father had long since retired with his wife, it had been a long day for the chief and it had taken its toll on the man's fragile state. Both the McLagans and the Domhnalls seemed to have put aside differences as they got drunk together and shared bawdry jokes. On the lower ends of the hall, fights broke out and they were quickly extinguished and they went back to drinking and laughing together.
Where Dougal was seated he could only hear faintly sound of the minstrels' music as they played on their balcony. But it made him recall Lili's music, how it had enveloped him in much sought after peace and the emptiness he carried about when she wasn't there, when her music wasn't there. He had so badly wanted to kiss her earlier today as she stood there in her simple attire yet outshining the ladies in their jewelleries and silk. His heart pounding, his palms sweating and the breathless anticipation. When she had looked up and to his direction after the ceremony was over, he had almost smiled until Nigel McLagan had stepped in breaking his view of her and his pleasure and happiness had dissolved into a jealous rage. It reminded him though that she wasn't for him.
There was a loud cheer, the chief of the McLagan had stood up for yet another toast and Dougal lurched upwards as well. He had had enough of the heat, the smell of sweaty body mingling with wood smoke. He gathered his plaid about him and stumbled out of the hall into the yard where archers sometimes practised. The cold air began to set him right and he leaned against a wooden pole and closed his eyes, trying not to think. He was succeeding when a loud woof brought him out of his reverie followed by the sound of a familiar voice that brought a smile to his lips.
“Hush up Wee Laird, we dinnae want to announce our presence. Besides Ailbeart could be here and we dinnae want to scare him off.”
Her voice was still in the shadows but it was coming towards him. Suddenly feeling mischievous, he remained where he was and didn't make a sound, waiting for her with silent anxiousness and an overwhelming urge to touch her, to satiate his longing for her by a simple kiss.
The dog gave another loud bark and he heard movements that told him the dog had ran away. Straining his ears, he wondered if Lili would follow and if he would have to chase after her but she didn't. She instead said a mild curse that almost made him laugh out loud and continued with her path towards him.
Dougal waited for her, like a predator did to its prey, grinning into the dark, and when she was close enough - an arm length away - his arm snaked out, curving about her slender waist and drawing her flush against his body. Her gasp of surprise was lost in the dark, her hands touching his shoulders and that simple touch fired up his passion beyond imagination. There was a moment or two of her standing still and of him enjoying the softness of her against his hardness, the sweet scent of her and the way the wind blew strands of her golden hair to brush against his face. Then she began to struggle.
“Let me go!”
His arms around her were like steel bands and it was useless to struggle.
“I cannae do that lass,” he said to her.
She ceased her struggling having recognised his voice.
“Master Dougal,” she whispered, her breath fanning his face.
Just then, the moon broke from the dark shade of the clouds and the strong light illuminated her face. Her beauty made his breath catch in his throat, in the silver light her skin appeared to the glowing and her eyes, luminous. His eyes drank in her ethereal beauty like a thirsty man until he saw the flower in her hair. The lily Nigel McLagan had gifted her. His rage melded with his passion morphing into something dangerous.
“I see ye are wearing his favour,” he said in a voice tight with red hot feelings.
Lili's eyes went huge and round with confusion before realisation set in and her hand inched towards the flower.
“Master Nigel gave me no favour,” Lili said.
“Really? Then what would ye call the lily flower? A gift.”
A cloud had passed over the face of the moon blocking the light so he couldn't see her face but he heard the irritation in her voice as clear as a bell.
“Call it what ye must Master Dougal, it wouldna change that ye are making a mountain out of a molehill. Now please let me go, I have an errand to run.”
Dougal chuckled darkly. “Of finding the halfwit?”
She inhaled sharply. “Ailbeart is not a half wit, he is cleverer than all the men in the castle combined!” She said hotly and began struggling again.
Dougal felt a sharp lance of annoyance that she would think another was cleverer than he or stronger or better, especially the lanky mooncalf.
“Have you feelings for the mooncalf?” He asked.
“That Master Dougal, isna any of your business.”
It really wasn't but it would eat him inside out knowing she had feelings for another, torment him till his dying day. It was something he simply could not take.
“It is and ye shouldna.” There was more he wanted to say but it wasn't the time to say them. Not while his heart was pounding hard and fast and the urge to kiss her was pressing mightily upon him. Every nerve in his body was pushing for him to capture her mouth and imprint his desire and affection into her mind with the fiery hotness of his kisses. The moon broke free of the cloud once more and he could once again see her face as he placed his hand upon a fair cheek revelling in the soft smoothness of her skin. She stilled at that gentle touch and as the black in her eyes expanded, swallowing up the blue he knew her body was responding to the signal his was sending.
“Lili,” was all he could say as his h
ead dipped and his mouth seized hers in a sizzling hot kiss that made him dizzy with delight and ardour. For a moment, she was unresponsive then with a sigh she melted against him, her hands tentatively moving up his shoulders to wind themselves about his neck even as his arms tightened about her gathering her even closer to him until there was scantly an inch separating them. Her lips parted and he deepened the kiss one of his hands moving up to her hair and revelling in the silky softness against the callouses of his palm. She gave another shuddering sigh that sent blood rushing to his groin and he broke the kiss, panting heavily, to pepper kiss down her jaw to her neck sucking and nibbling until she was writhing in his arms and moaning her delight. He caught her mouth once again in a passionate kiss that drove every other thing out except the two of them realising their passion in their own world of light. Until the insistent bark of an annoying dog brought her back first.
“Oh no!” She gasped. “Please let go of me Master Dougal,” she sounded near tears that he had to let her go and she fled. The instant she was parted from him he felt her lose so had it was almost a physical blow. He missed her scent and warmth and the fullness he has felt for that glorious moment he had her in his arms.
Chapter 10
“The laird be needin' ye in his chambers lass,” Mistress Eubh said to Lili who was so lost in her thought that when she lifted her head from the task it was bent over to blink blankly at her.
“The Laird is askin' for ye. So, clean the flour off yerself. It's urgent, so the lad says, so hurry.”
Lili nodded once and found a rag to dust herself clean of the flour that had settled on her gown and in her hair with Mistress Eubh by her side flapping about anxiously.
“Is somethin' wrong Mistress Eubh?” Lili inquired placing the rag next to the bowl of flour.
“The lad willna say, only that the laird or the physician, he wasna clear on that. But they need ye urgently so hurry lass. They'll be in the Laird's bedchambers.”
Lili hurried as fast as she could, pushing her already aching body. The result of yesterday's revelry had been more chores for the kitchen staff that they spent most of the midnight scouring bowls and cleaning up. Lili had barely had an hour of sleep before she had been woken up to begin with the breakfast. As she had measured flour to knead into bread she longed for the days when they were no celebrations, now thirty minutes later she was hurrying through the gate to the inner bailey to attend to the laird.
Idly she wondered if something was wrong with the laird. He had not been looking well during the ceremony and even less well during the feast. She needed no oracle to tell her he was getting worse; the entire castle knew it was merely a matter of time before God called him home. Her heart clenched as she thought of him as no more, he had been a good chief to all of them she wasn't sure Dougal would be able to live up to the standard he had set. Dougal. The kiss that had shared yesterday's night made her face flame up and she almost stumbled. She sincerely hoped he wouldn't be in the Laird's chamber.
It seemed that the heavens answered her unspoken prayer as only the physician and the chief were present. The chief lying sunken and grey in the bed that seemed cavernous for his thin wasting body and the physician looking grim above him. He held out a trembling hand to her and she went to him, taking the papery thin hand in both of hers.
“Play for me lass,” he wheezed and she did, with her harp and with her voice until his face relaxed from the pain and he eased into a gentle sleep. Even then she kept on playing and singing until a heavy hand dropped on her shoulder and she looked up into the heavily wrinkled face of the physician. He was as old as the chief, a childhood friend and had taken the position after his father, the previous physician died.
“Stop now lass. He's sleeping but not for long and when he wakes he'll need ye tae ease his pain. Give him these when he wakes, just a drop into his water ‘twill help manage his pain.” He handed her a vial. “I’ll tell Mistress Eubh to excuse ye from your duties, ye are needed more here. Rest your fingers and voice, I'll have breakfast sent up tae ye.”
Then he left her with the sleeping chief. Food arrived for her moments before the chief woke from his slumber and he awoke into distress and pain, so she mixed the medicine with water and fed it to him before playing her song. The chief remained awake till midday with the physician drifting in and out to check up on him, and when they were alone he was requesting for new tunes and asking her to read to him.
“It's truly a wonder ye can read.” He rasped from his sick bed, his breathing shallow. “Who taught you?”
“I cannae recall,” she told him.
“Ahh! That is true, forgive me lass for my …” He drifted off into sleep.
Lili closed the Bible, replaced it and returned to her food. She was checking out the spines of the books tucked into the shelf when the door opened and lady Caitir strode him, the hem of her gown whipping at her heel. Lili moved away from the shelf as fast as possible but something in her expression made Caitir suspicious.
“And what are ye doing here?” She demanded in a voice cold enough to freeze fire.
“Master Aodh asked me to wait with the laird, to comfort him when he wakes with pain.”
Lady Caitir's cold eyes roved the room, resting on the harp, the empty plate of food and the slumbering chief before finally alighting on her and Lili was shocked to see the cold flame of loathing in her eyes.
“I will return when my husband is awake, have someone inform me the moment he awakes.” And with that she swept out as suddenly as she had swept in allowing Lili to breath in relief.
Master Aodh came in after and she told him what lady Caitir had said but he shrugged it off and focused on the chief.
“He is having a fever,” he told her and had her touch his hot dry skin. “Ye'll have tae mop him with cold water and have one of the men outside send for me the moment he awakens. Dinnae come yourself, he musna be left alone.”
Lili took to her new duty well, moping him with cold water at intervals to bring down his fever. He came to conscious a few times, merely drifting in and out and mumbling deliriously but never for more than a few seconds before slipping back to slip. She hummed under her breath for him as she went on with her task and was emptying the used water into the chamber pot when the door opened and young master Lucas slipped into the room. For a moment they stared at each other, Lucas looking much like a startled rabbit before turning and fleeing.
Seonag visited later, saying nothing to Lili as she knelt by his bedside, holding one of his hand in hers. She was there for long minutes before kissing the pallid forehead and fleeing like her brother had done, Lili thought she heard a sob escape from her before the door closed. Lady Caitir came again, coming to stand by her husband's bed while he muttered deliriously.
“Susan,” he said repeating it again and again before slipping into sleep.
She left soon after without saying a word. After she had gone, Lili wondered where Dougal was. Surely he must have heard his father was gravely ill and should have come to visit and yet he wasn't here like the others had been. She wasn't so sure she wanted to see him or for him to see her and with the order Master Aodh had given her of not letting the chief alone there was no way she could go away while he was here. The thought of him brought heat and colour to her face. It made her cringe thinking of how she had behaved, how she had clung to him and those sounds she had made. She could never face him again. Still his kiss had awoken something in her, something she couldn't quite touch or explain but it was there anyways. It was a little flame that could keep her warm, if she could get over the feeling of embarrassment.
The chief came awake shortly before sundown, disoriented. He insisted she doesn't leave him as she tried calling for a guard to take the message to Master Aodh. It took her a while to calm him before she could call out to one of the men, taking care she didn't step out from the room.
Master Aodh came in several minutes later with his bag of medicines and she became his assistant in mixing the concoction
for the chief. Broth was brought in by Mistress Eubh and Ailis.
“How is he, master Aodh?” She asked, setting the tray on a table, Ailis placing a new ewer of water next to the tray. She ducked respectfully behind Mistress Eubh's frame and sent questioning glances towards Lili who shook her head in response leaving the interpretation of the little woman.
“I cannae say Eubh. Only that his pain must be eased. ‘Tis going tae be difficult from now on, Lili will have tae stay with the laird her music eases the pain more than any decoction I can make.”
“Of course, Master Aodh.” She turned to Lili with a tender expression on her usually stern face and Lili suspected she was close to tears. “Ye look tired lass, I'll have food sent up tae ye.”
She and Ailis left them to spoon-feed the laird broth. He only took little before he went back to sleep and soon after Lili was left alone. As dusk fell, Ailis came up with supper for her and stood over her whispering questions as she ate. Although she found it particularly irritating she did her best to answer the twittering bird's question and revelled in the peace and quiet when the girl reluctantly left.
“Ye should sleep lass, ye are exhausted as it is. Well done,” Master Aodh praised her as she sat bleary eyed close to the Laird.
“But what if he needs ... me.” She had yawned before she completed her words.
“I’ll be checking in on him often, dinnae mind that. Just rest, he'll need ye more on the morrow. Here…” He pulled her a truckle bed. “Lie down lass.”
Lili did, gathering the folds of her gown about her and as her head hit the pillow she was already asleep.
Chapter 11
He looked like he had shrunk overnight.
Dougal's eyes roved over his father impersonally even though his heart was aching for the old man. Master Aodh had left a lamp on and the flickering orange light played on his grey face. He looked like a corpse already, Dougal thought, his skin stretched tautly over his frame. He was not the powerfully built man Dougal remembered from his childhood, age and his illness had robbed him of it. The shiny mass of hair as dark as the raven's wings was now grey, dull and scanty. The skinny cage of his chest rose and fell with each laboured breath. Time was a slippery old eel.
Healing the Highlander's Heart Page 7