Текст книги "My notorious highlander"
Автор книги: Vonda Sinclair
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They both rose and stood aside as three of Torrin's men moved in and hoisted him up onto their shoulders, then carried him toward the dunes leading to the castle. Iain followed them.
"Are you well, sister?" Dirk asked, limping toward her.
"Aye, are you hurt?" She glanced down at his leg, seeing no fresh injury below the bottom of his plaid.
"'Tis my calf, still healing from where Gil shot me with an arrow several weeks ago." Dirk shook his head. "When I saw you hanging off that cliff—" Fear sharpened his gaze. "I remember what 'tis like."
She nodded. But, thirteen years ago, Dirk had hung off the side of a cliff all night. She couldn't imagine the prolonged terror he must have felt. "Aye, I'm well. Thanks to McMurdo." Who would've ever imagined the murderer saving anyone's life? "But we must get MacLeod back to the keep and the healer," she said, still feeling jittery and weak from having almost fallen to her death.
"Indeed," her older brother said. "Let's go," he called out to the MacKays.
Torrin's men carried him quickly, ahead of everyone else.
Please, God, keep him alive.
Dirk walked over and stood at the edge of the ravine, staring down toward the rocks and the sea where their youngest brother had met his death. A flash of grief cut through her, for no matter Haldane's crimes—and even though he would've killed her with no qualms—he had once been her wee brother. She knew Dirk felt the loss of one of their own, too.
She rushed to catch up to Torrin's men, transporting him through the sand dunes. The rest of the MacKays and Dirk's friends followed.
A quarter hour later, they entered Dunnakeil. The men carried Torrin to his chamber, while Jessie dashed to Erskine's room to get Nannag, but she wasn't there.
"Where is Nannag?" Jessie asked Flora, one of the healers-in-training who watched over the sleeping sword-bearer.
"In Lady Isobel's chamber."
Fear flashed through Jessie. "Why? Is she hurt?"
"She fainted while she was watching the battle and hit her head. She feared Chief Dirk had been hurt or killed."
"Saints." Jessie ran toward the laird's chamber, praying Isobel was not injured too badly. In the corridor, she found Nannag and her two helpers.
"Please go to Laird MacLeod's chamber. He is severely injured and has lost a lot of blood."
"Aye, m'lady," the ancient healer said. Carrying her medicine satchel filled with herbs and no telling what else, she and her two younger helpers quickened their pace.
While Jessie wanted to go with them immediately, she also needed to check on Isobel.
Upon bypassing the guard and entering the room, she found Isobel sitting before the hearth, Seona beside her.
"Were you injured badly?" Jessie asked.
"Where is Dirk?" Isobel demanded, leaping to her feet and rushing forward, her eyes red.
"He was right behind me. He is well."
"Oh, thank the saints," Isobel whispered, pressing a hand to her chest and looking much relieved. "I saw him fall. After the guard brought me to my chamber, he wouldn't allow me to leave."
"And Keegan?" Seona asked, standing beside Isobel.
"Thankfully, he was unhurt, too. But Torrin was badly injured. He's out cold and has lost a lot of blood."
"Och, nay! I am sorry," Isobel said. "And here I have held you up."
"I wanted to see that you were well. I'll be in Torrin's room," Jessie said, dashing out the door.
When Jessie entered the crowded room, Torrin growled, his eyes closed, his teeth clenched in pain. Thank the saints he had awakened.
"Everyone out," Nannag ordered Torrin's men, and Iain. How could such a strong and commanding voice come from such an aged and tiny woman? The men obediently filed out, but when Nannag found Jessie still standing by the door, she said in a gentler tone, "You too, m'lady."
"I will help."
"You can help by going to fetch Flora for me. And tell her to bring some hot water." She smiled sweetly, then rushed back to Torrin's bedside. "Cut his doublet and shirt off," she murmured to one of her helpers.
What if Torrin died while Jessie was out of the room? Nay, he cannot die!
Praying the whole way, Jessie did as Nannag asked and retrieved Flora.
Back at Torrin's chamber a short time later, Jessie waited outside the door with Iain and Struan, though she felt uncomfortable doing so. She did not know the men well, and they sent her inquiring glances. Did they know how close she and Torrin had grown? What had he told them?
A pain-filled growl echoed from beyond the door and Jessie wanted to rush inside. Instead, she paced and clasped her hands together. A needle-like pain shot through them and she examined her palms. They were scraped raw from where she'd held onto the rocks. She would have to rub some salve on them. Her shoulders were also sore from being near wrenched from their sockets.
"Torrin is tough as a cliff-face," Iain said, his voice rough. "I'm certain he will be up and around in no time." Although, with that worried frown, Iain didn't look convinced.
Jessie nodded. "I hope you're right."
A string of loud male curses issued forth from the room. Saints! He had to be in horrible pain. She wished she could do something to help ease it.
During the ensuing half hour, Dirk and Isobel, and several others stopped by to see how Torrin was faring, and then left. All she knew was that he was in agony, given the noises emanating from inside the room. Soon, all grew quiet.
Too quiet.
Fear flashed through Jessie. She knocked at the door, then barged in.
"How is he?" she demanded, rushing to the bedside.
"Shh. He is sleeping," Nannag whispered. "You'll wake him."
'Twas true. His bare chest rose and fell evenly with his deep breaths. But she couldn't see his wounds for Flora held a linen bandage pressed firmly against them. "Did he pass out again?"
"Nay. 'Twas my sleeping potion, lass." Nannag gave a reassuring smile. "He but needs to rest for a few hours. Come back later. I'll watch over him closely."
"I don't mind staying and helping." In fact, she wanted to. She would enjoy watching him sleep and breathe, for it meant he was alive.
Nannag shook her head. "Go get yourself something to eat… and some wine. You need it."
Releasing a calming breath, Jessie glanced back at the open doorway, where Iain and Struan stood, staring into the room with much concern. She supposed everyone could see how distraught she was… which meant, everyone knew how much she cared for Torrin.
Jessie nodded. "I thank you."
"You're welcome. Flora and I will take good care of the lad for you," Nannag whispered so the men wouldn't hear, then winked.
"He will be well?" Jessie asked hesitantly, keeping her voice low.
"Oh, aye. He lost some blood, but he is a strong, young warrior. We stitched him up good, and the bleeding is slowing. He'll be like new soon." Nannag gave her a knowing smile.
Jessie's face heated. "Very well. I'll be back soon."
When she stepped into the corridor, Iain asked, "How is he?"
"Sleeping. Go in if you wish, but Nannag will likely run you off after a minute."
With a faint smile, he nodded and stepped into the room. A couple of Torrin's men followed him.
She found Aiden lurking further along the darkened corridor. "How is Torrin?" he asked.
"Sleeping. Nannag says he will recover. I pray she's right."
"Aye. I like him. And I'm so thankful you were unhurt, sister. Dirk told me what happened out there."
"He told you about Haldane?" she asked.
Aiden nodded. Dropping his gaze, he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I'm just glad he didn't take you with him when he fell off that cliff."
Tears burned her eyes. "Me, too." She drew Aiden into a tight embrace. He was far too thin. "You need to eat more."
"Aye, sister." His tiny smirk reassured her.
"Well, if you will excuse me, I must go clean up. I'm a mess." She strode to her chamber and found her pup where she'd left him, asleep before the hearth. He leapt up and scurried toward her.
"Are you hungry, Greum?" She found some leftover hard cheese sitting on her bedside table and gave it to him. That would occupy him while she washed up and changed clothes. She didn't know where her maid was, but she was fully capable of taking care of herself.
Thankfully, the maid did show up a few minutes later, and Jessie asked her to take Greum out for a walk in the courtyard.
Heading toward the great hall a few minutes later, Jessie came upon Dirk and Isobel exiting their chamber.
"How is Torrin?" Dirk asked.
"He is sleeping, thanks to Nannag's potion. She says he will recover."
"Thank the saints," Dirk said.
"Jessie, you didn't tell me you almost died out there," Isobel said. "I'm so thankful you were unhurt." Isobel drew her into a fierce hug. "Oh, pray pardon. You must be sore."
"Just my shoulders a wee bit, and my hands." She showed them her scraped palms.
"Saints!" Isobel said. "I cannot imagine having to hold onto the rocks to avoid falling down a cliff."
"Aye, 'twas the most frightened I've ever been. And to think my own brother wanted me to die."
Isobel shook her head, blinking back tears. "I'm glad Haldane's dead, and I'm not going to apologize for saying that." She gave her husband a defiant look.
"As am I." Dirk raised an auburn brow. "He refused to change his evil ways, and he got what was coming to him. I always knew only death would stop him from trying to kill me. I'll have to thank Torrin when he feels better."
"McMurdo pulled you to safety?" Isobel asked her.
"Aye, 'twas unbelievable." Jessie had never been more shocked and grateful in her life.
"'Twas not out of the goodness of his heart. 'Tis simply that he wants the tomb in the church so badly."
Jessie nodded. "I wonder why?"
Dirk shrugged. "Who can guess what goes on in such a twisted mind? But I believe he fears that the people of Durness will desecrate his remains after he dies unless they are sealed up safely in the church."
"I see. Well, I'm glad you had that to offer him. Aiden said you told him about Haldane."
"Aye." Dirk frowned, looking morose. "The lad took it hard, but he said he knew 'twas going to happen sooner or later. And though Aiden caused big problems for Erskine and the clan, he said he was glad he got to talk to Haldane one last time."
Jessie nodded, tears burning her eyes once again, more so for Aiden's grief than her own, because the two lads had always been so close.
"I've been meaning to ask you," Dirk said. "Why is Torrin here? Not that I mind him visiting."
Jessie glanced at the clan members passing by them in the corridor. "What do you think?" she said in a hushed voice.
"Come inside the room." Isobel pulled her into their chamber and Dirk entered, too, closing the door behind.
"I can guess why he's here, but I might be wrong," Dirk said. "When we stopped by Munrick a few weeks ago, he again asked for your hand."
Jessie's face felt scorched of a sudden. "He said he came to protect me from MacBain." Jessie explained how the two men had run into each other far south of Durness and traveled north together.
"And did he protect you?"
"Aye. He broke MacBain's nose when he tried to barge into my chamber in the middle of the night. Then, when MacBain tried to kidnap me, Torrin rescued me and had MacBain and his men thrown into the dungeon. The next day, he had his men, along with some of the MacKays, escort the brigands off MacKay lands."
"Saints! I'm glad he's here, then. Have you changed your mind about marrying him?" Dirk inquired.
"I'd rather not discuss it at the moment," Jessie said, unwilling to share her conflictive feelings.
Dirk gave a wee smile. "Very well. We'll talk about it later."
"What happened on the ramparts when you fell?" Jessie asked Isobel, wanting to know, but also hoping to change the subject.
"After you left, Seona and I were watching that horrible battle below, on the beach." She shook her head. "Dirk fell and I thought McMurdo had stabbed him."
"'Tis my leg, you see," Dirk said. "My calf is still weak from where Gil's arrow went through it weeks ago. I stumbled and fell. Which was fortunate, for it allowed McMurdo's blade to miss me."
"Thank the saints. And I'm glad you were not hurt terribly when you passed out," Jessie told Isobel.
"Seona caught part of my fall, but my head slammed against the battlement." She gently rubbed the side of her head. "They helped me inside, though I wanted to go back out and see what'd happened to Dirk, but the guard wouldn't allow it. And then Nannag examined me and told me—" Isobel pressed her lips tight and glanced at Dirk. "Can I tell her?"
He smiled back, love shining in his pale blue eyes. "Aye, of course."
"Nannag told me I am with child," Isobel whispered.
Chapter Fourteen
Isobel was with child?
Jessie's mouth dropped open, and happy tears burned her eyes. "In truth? That is wonderful!" She embraced Isobel, knowing her friend had been worried for the past several months when she didn't conceive right after the wedding. Some had thought it could've been because Isobel had almost died from the deadly nightshade poisoning last winter.
"Aye." Isobel drew back, beaming.
Jessie turned to Dirk and embraced him. "Congratulations, brother. You will both make wonderful parents," she said, moving back.
"I thank you." He grinned.
She had never seen him look happier.
"We have not announced it to the clan as of yet," Isobel said. "Although Seona and Keegan know—Seona was with me when Nannag told me—but we wish to keep it a secret from the rest of the clan for now."
Jessie nodded. "I'll not murmur a word."
"We'll have a celebration feast, once everyone is more recovered from their injuries," Dirk said.
"Speaking of which, I'm starving," Isobel said, moving toward the door. "Let's eat."
Dirk chuckled and joined her in the corridor. "I'd best order more supplies."
Isobel gasped and gave his arm a light swat.
"I only meant that my son will need a lot of food as he's growing." Grinning, he placed a hand upon her still flat belly.
"And what if the bairn is a dainty daughter, like me?" Isobel asked.
"I'll be thrilled, of course."
Watching the two stroll toward the great hall, Jessie smiled and shook her head at their playful exchange. She knew her brother would be overjoyed with either a healthy son or daughter, but men always had to brag that they were going to have a son, especially as a first born.
Jessie checked on Torrin again and found he was still sleeping. The bleeding was slowing, thanks be to God.
"I will watch over the laird," Flora said, ushering Jessie toward the door. "You go eat something afore you starve."
"I'll be back soon."
Flora nodded and closed the door behind her.
Jessie joined Dirk and Isobel at the high table in the great hall. Iain and a few others were already sitting there as well. She wanted to eat quickly, then go back and sit with Torrin. In truth, she had no appetite, but she was growing weak and jittery; it had been many hours since she'd last eaten. Isobel directed the servants to start serving supper. It was later than usual and everyone was famished.
Jessie was glad to see Seona and Keegan approaching the high table, her arm linked through his.
"'Tis good to see you again, cousin," Jessie said to Keegan, his long tawny hair freshly washed. "I hear you're married, now."
"Aye, indeed. I'm a lucky man." He grinned, his pale blue eyes alight as he pulled out a chair for Lady Seona.
She was beaming as she took her seat beside Jessie.
"Congratulations to you both. How did this come about?"
"Thank you. We'll have to tell you about it when we have more time," Keegan said, sitting beside Seona. "'Twill take two or three hours, I'm thinking."
"In truth? You must've had quite an adventure."
"We did. Although, not all of it was pleasant."
"Where is your sister?" Jessie asked Seona.
"In a guest chamber, sleeping. She is worn out from all the travel. And so is Aunt Patience."
Jessie nodded. "Was anyone else injured in the battle on the beach?"
"Most everyone had a few cuts and scrapes, but three of the MacKay guards had some bad wounds. Nannag and her helpers are seeing to them," Keegan said. "How is Chief MacLeod?"
"Sleeping at the moment, and Flora said the bleeding is slowing."
"'Tis good."
Jessie was happy to see Aiden come down the stairs and sit beside Keegan. She was glad he was moving past his withdrawn phase.
Two tall, dark-haired men entered from the bailey, Dirk's friend, Rebbie, and Isobel's brother, Cyrus. Rebbie asked about Torrin, then took the seat beside Dirk as the food was being served.
Jessie quickly ate the roast venison, along with onions, parsnips and oat bread. Although she loved eating with her friends and family, she missed Torrin sitting beside her and wished he was able to eat. Tears burning her eyes, she forced down a few more bites.
Moments later, Flora moved in behind Jessie and whispered in her ear. "Laird MacLeod is asking for you, m'lady."
A shock of icy fear went through her.
"Pray pardon," she told those sitting closest to her, leapt up from her chair and followed Flora.
"Is he worse?" Jessie asked on the way up the steps, her heart pounding in her throat.
"He's in great pain." Flora hastened along the corridor and opened the door to Torrin's chamber.
Jessie entered and rushed to his bedside. "What's wrong?"
"I wish to speak to the lady alone," Torrin told the healer, a fierce frown upon his ashen face.
Flora quickly vacated the room and closed the door.
"I'm sorry you're in such terrible pain," Jessie said, touching his arm. Saints, how she wished she could take away some of his agony.
"Never mind that," he said through clenched teeth, keeping his voice low. He took her hand into his. "You need to marry me now, in case you are with child and I die."
A jolt of alarm went through her. "What? Nay, you are not going to die," she said firmly.
"That remains to be seen." His eyes were dark with pain and more solemn than she could remember.
"Torrin, you must not say that," she said gently, her throat tightening. She stroked her hand along his bristly cheek. "You must get better."
He nodded. "Still, you could be carrying my heir, but only if we wed."
"Nay. You will simply have to recover. I'm not giving you an excuse to die."
His frown only deepened. "Are you mad? I don't want to die."
"Well then, you must grow strong and healthy again, and then… if I conceive…" She was afraid to even finish that sentence.
"Aye?" Torrin lifted his brows. "What?"
"I'll marry you," she whispered.
"You will?" he asked, hope lighting his eyes. "You will marry me?"
"If I am with child."
One side of his lips quirked up a wee bit. "You will be. I ken it."
She sent him a bittersweet smile. "I pray you're right."
His eyes widened. "You do?"
"Aye."
"You want to marry me. I knew it," he said with satisfaction.
She nodded, a mist of tears burning her eyes.
"But I want you to know, Jessie, I'll marry you even if you don't conceive."
She shook her head. "That means more to me than I can say, but your clan would hate us. You would grow to resent me if I couldn't provide you an heir."
"Nay. Never. I swear to you, Jessie—"
Someone knocked hard at the door.
Torrin muttered a curse.
"I'd better see who that is." She slipped her hand from his and went to open the door.
Iain waited in the corridor, his dark blue eyes concerned. "How is Torrin?"
"Come in," she said.
He advanced into the room and stood by the bed.
"I'm alive," Torrin told him, his face tight and pale.
"Thank the saints. I grew worried when I saw Lady Jessie rush from the great hall and follow the healer."
"You may need something else for the pain," Jessie told Torrin. "I should get Flora."
"Aye. The pain is growing worse," Torrin admitted.
His statement alone worried her, for she knew he wouldn't have said it if the pain wasn't severe.
***
"I will sit with Laird MacLeod tonight," Jessie said to Nannag an hour later. "You need some sleep." Though the elderly healer did not look near as exhausted as Jessie felt.
"Very well, lass." Nannag sent her a sweet smile. "Flora will sleep here on the pallet by the fireplace in case you need her."
"That will be good."
After Nannag left, Jessie pulled the straight chair closer to the bedside and, in the dim glow of the candle, watched Torrin sleep. Whatever potion Flora had given him for pain had knocked him out. She studied his breathing—deep and even—and prayed that meant he was strong enough to pull through despite his severe injuries.
They had planned to spend the night together in her chamber. What a terrible turn of events. The main thing was he lived, for which she was exceedingly grateful. He had come to mean more to her than she would've ever thought possible. Aye, indeed, she loved him.
An hour or two later, he shifted and muttered something she couldn't understand. He thrashed about, then shivered. She touched his forehead.
"Saints, you are burning up," she whispered.
"Jessie?" he murmured.
"Aye, 'tis me."
His eyes remained closed.
She took the cloth from the basin of cold water, squeezed it out, and bathed his face with it.
He hissed and tried to draw away from her.
She pulled the blanket up to cover his bare shoulders. She had feared he would have a fever, but hoped it wouldn't be too severe. She might have to wake Flora and ask her what to do, for Jessie would never consider herself a healer. She hated to disturb the woman, who'd worked tirelessly for hours in her duties. But what if Torrin got too hot? Could such a fever kill him?
After rising from her chair, Jessie crouched by Flora and gently shook her.
Flora's eyes popped open. "Aye. What is it, m'lady?"
"He has a terrible fever."
"Och, nay." She scrambled up from the floor and poured some hot water, heating in the fireplace, into a cup. "We'll give him some willow bark tea, then," she whispered, sprinkling some ground up pieces of bark into the water. "And a bit more poppy for the pain." While it steeped, the healer pressed her hand against Torrin's forehead. "He is indeed scorching."
Jessie's stomach knotted, for she knew not what this meant. Please God, heal him and help him recover, she prayed, tears in her eyes. More than anything, she wanted to have a family with him.
When the tea was ready, Flora said, "Mayhap you can help him lean over this way a bit so he doesn't choke on the tea?"
"Of course." Jessie went to the back side of the bed. "Torrin?"
"Hmm."
"I'm going to help you turn over that way so you can drink some tea, aye?" She pushed at his shoulder.
When he tried to move, he grimaced terribly and growled a curse.
"I'm sorry," Jessie said.
"Och, m'laird, I ken it hurts," Flora said gently, as if to a child. "But if you drink this, 'twill help."
Jessie pushed harder at his shoulder so he could roll toward his right. 'Twas obvious that he was helping, for she couldn't have moved him so easily if he hadn't.
Flora held the cup to his mouth.
"Drink now, Torrin," Jessie whispered softly in his ear.
He swallowed several mouthfuls, took a few breaths, then drank the rest of the cup.
"Good. That will help," Flora said in an encouraging tone.
Torrin lay back, grinding his teeth together and hissing. Once he'd relaxed, he took several deep breaths. She stroked his forearm, lying on top of the blanket. He lifted his hand and closed it securely around Jessie's wrist.
Flora smiled slightly when she saw this, then returned to arranging the herbal remedies. Jessie pulled the blanket to his chin again but didn't remove his hand from around her wrist. Nay, she rather liked his tight, possessive hold, even in the face of such illness. 'Haps she could help give him the strength to pull through.
A half hour later, Flora was once again snoring beside the hearth, and Torrin was sleeping peacefully. Jessie touched his face, his whisker stubble brushing her palm. He was still rather warm, but the fever was less severe than before.
The rough feel of his stubble sparked the memory of when he'd first kissed her in the chapel, and how he'd talked about his whiskers being prickly and growing back quickly despite his best efforts to keep them shaved off. Tears burning her eyes, she wished he could tease her now… kiss her, make her laugh… and a lot more.
When his grip on her wrist relaxed enough, she moved around the foot of the bed to the other side. Sitting in the chair, she took up the wet cloth again and stroked it over his face, then traced his attractive chestnut-colored brows with her fingertip. She always loved it when he raised one of them, giving her a mischievous look.
His eyes still closed, he grunted and gently took hold of her hand. "Jessie," he said, no louder than a breath.
"Aye."
"Love you," he said.
Tears filled Jessie's eyes. Her throat tightened, and she swallowed hard. Once she was able to speak, she whispered, "I love you, too."
One corner of his lips quirked upward in the barest hint of a smile, then disappeared.
Though she told the truth, she hoped he wouldn't remember it. Their feelings for each other were strong, but that wasn't the only factor. To a chief and his clan, the heir was of primary importance.
Holding her hand, Torrin lapsed into a deeper sleep.
Soon, dawn light gleamed silvery gray through the narrow window, and Jessie grew more and more sleepy. She would just lay her head down for a minute on the bed to rest her tight shoulders and neck.
The rattle of the door latch startled her awake and she sat upright. The room was lighter now and Iain stood on the threshold.
"How is he?" Iain whispered, then moved to stand at the foot of the bed.
Truth be told, she'd been asleep and wasn't certain. She ran her gaze over Torrin, then laid her palm against his forehead. Still a bit too warm, but not scalding. His breathing was deep and even.
"Very well, I think."
"Thank the saints," Iain said, keeping his deep voice low. "You've taken excellent care of him, m'lady."
"God and the healers deserve all the credit. I merely sat here."
"You did far more than that," Iain said with a slight smile.
She wasn't sure what he was talking about, but she wasn't going to argue.
"Don't tell him I said so, but you, sitting here, holding his hand, will mean more to him than all the medicine in the world."
Her face burned, and she dropped her gaze to study Torrin. He moved a bit, a frown creasing his brow.
Torrin must have talked to Iain about his feelings for her. She wasn't sure whether to feel embarrassed or glad.
"I'll let you both rest," Iain whispered and slipped out the door.
Flora roused from her sleep by the hearth and pushed herself up. "How is the laird this morn?"
"Improving, I think. But mayhap you should check him over to be sure."
Moving to the other side of the bed, Flora placed a hand upon his forehead. "Aye. Still a mild fever, but I think he is doing well, all things considered."
"Thanks be to God," Jessie murmured.
"Aye, I think your prayers helped, m'lady." Flora went back to her herbal concoctions.
How did she know Jessie had prayed for Torrin? She had done so silently. Maybe the woman had simply assumed it, since 'twas obvious Jessie cared a great deal for Torrin.
Moments later, Nannag stole into the room, her footsteps so light, Jessie almost didn't hear them. Her white hair was contained beneath a red kertch, and her blue eyes were as bright as the morning sky.
"The lad is doing well, aye?" she asked in her papery thin whisper. "His color is better."
'Twas true. How had Jessie missed that? Last night, he had been so pale.
"Aye," Jessie said, feeling more hopeful.
Torrin shifted again with a low grunt.
"Mayhap you would like to get him some thin porridge while we check his wounds," Nannag suggested.
Jessie didn't see how a woman in her nineties could be so chipper and spry this early in the morn. She must have slept well.
Jessie stood and rubbed her low back; it ached from having sat in the same position so long.
"You need to eat something, too," Nannag told her. "'Twill take us about a half hour to re-bandage his wounds."
But would he miss her if she wasn't there when he woke up? Maybe she should go ahead and wake him now to tell him where she was going.
"Torrin?" She touched his forehead.
"Hmm?"
"I'm going to get food. I'll be back soon."
He opened his eyes, blinked a couple of times, a frown contorting his brow, then studied her. "Aye."
"How do you feel this morn?"
"Like hell… if you wish the truth." His deep voice was raspy.
"You are improving though." Aye, his face wasn't as pale, and he was not growling lengthy curses as he had been the evening before. She wanted to kiss his forehead to reassure him, but couldn't with Nannag and Flora watching. They'd make something of it, when she wanted to keep the true nature of their association secret.
"Aye," he agreed, but in a dull tone.
"They will take good care of you." She motioned to the two healers.
"Come back soon," he whispered, his dark green gaze pleading with her.
"I will, and I'll bring you porridge, which you must eat," she said in a mock stern tone.
"I make no promises."
***
A half hour later, Torrin lay propped up against pillows in bed while he imagined Jessie. Thoughts of her were the only things that distracted him from the piercing agony in his abdomen. The healers were excellent, of course, but, since the evening before, they had inflicted prohibitive amounts of pain upon him. Only the younger one remained in the room at present. Thankfully, the bandages were changed and they'd given him some sort of bitter herbal tea to drink.
When someone entered the room, he opened his eyes.
Jessie. Thank the saints. He'd missed her. She carried a tray containing a bowl and cup. Hell, she was going to make him eat. The very thought of food made him want to retch.
"You are feeling better, aye?" she asked with a little smile.
"Indeed." He could lie if it made her happy.
She set the tray on the bedside table. "Flora, would you like to go break your fast?"
"Aye, if you think you can handle his lairdship."
"If he gets too unruly, I'll send someone for you," Jessie said.
The healer grinned and left the room.
"Och. As if I could be unruly," Torrin muttered.
"Once you eat, you will feel stronger."
He hoped she was right, for at the moment he felt weaker than a two-day-old bairn. Though he hated for her to see him like this, it couldn't be helped. He'd much rather have her at his bedside than not. He thought she had stayed with him all night. A couple of times when he'd awakened, she had been there. Either that or 'twas a fevered dream.
