Текст книги "My notorious highlander"
Автор книги: Vonda Sinclair
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"Saints! Torrin, why on earth did you not hire a competent healer?"
"Didn't ken I'd need one," he whispered.
She shook her head.
"I need to examine his wounds and see if they are festered," Flora said.
"Aye." Jessie said. "I'll help you." Knowing one of the injuries was on his left thigh, Jessie moved the blankets aside while trying to keep his groin covered, although she was certain Flora had seen countless naked men while performing her healing duties.
Flora removed the bloody linen bandage from his thigh, revealing a swollen, angry gash. It had been roughly stitched up. Jessie wanted to mutter several curse words, but kept her lips sealed tight.
"'Tis a festering wound. I must bathe it, then apply a poultice." Flora turned to the MacLeod maid who waited near the door. "I'll need a kettle of boiled water if you please."
"Aye." The maid hastened away.
"It looks bad, does it not?" Jessie asked.
Flora nodded.
"You can help him though, aye?"
"I will certainly try, m'lady. But you must pray. Your prayers seem to work miracles." Flora dug into her satchel and pulled out several wee cloth pouches of dried herbs.
Jessie nodded, her throat closing. Her prayers had been answered thus far. Torrin was alive, as she'd asked. Now, she must ask for his rapid healing.
Holding his hand, she kissed his overheated forehead, then silently said a swift but heartfelt prayer.
"Don't cry, Jessie," Torrin whispered. "Don't like it when you cry."
She wiped her tears away. "Then you must recover quickly."
"Don't leave me," he said.
"I won't."
"Ever," he added, his pain-filled gaze locked on her.
Realizing what he was saying, she bit her lip. He was asking her to stay with him permanently. Was that what it would take to give him the strength to fight for his life? She would do anything to keep him alive.
"I will stay with you… always," she said.
"In truth?" He frowned, his eyes searching hers.
"Aye. I love you," she whispered, stroking his cheek, sporting a weeks' worth of beard stubble.
"Love you, too." He turned his head slightly and kissed her palm.
Margie and the maid rushed into the room, one carrying a kettle of hot water and the other a tray of food.
Flora set about making an herbal tea. While it steeped, Jessie fed Torrin a couple of spoonfuls of warm venison broth. It smelled fresh and delicious. It had been many hours since she'd eaten and she was hungry. But Torrin's well-being was far more important than her own.
"'Tis all I can stomach," he said after another sip.
Flora and Jessie helped him turn onto his side so they might check the wound on his back. It was healing well because it hadn't been as deep a cut.
Once Jessie forced him to drink the tea containing the poppy, willow bark, thyme, red clover blossom and several other things, Flora bathed the wound on his thigh with hot water containing herbs over the basin. She then gently applied a poultice of plantain, red clover, comfrey and calendula to the wound and covered it with clean linen.
A few minutes later, Torrin dropped off to sleep and his fever seemed diminished.
"Go get yourself something to eat, m'lady," Flora whispered.
Before Jessie could say anything, Dolina entered the room, carrying a tray filled with food. "Margie sent this up for you both."
"Oh, I thank you," Jessie said.
While Jessie was eating, Dirk, Keegan and Iain entered the room. "How is he?" Dirk asked, keeping his voice low.
"Flora has attended to the wound on his thigh and given him a tea to help him sleep and recover. The cut on his back is already healing well."
Dirk nodded, still looking worried as his gaze scanned over Torrin.
"I'm so thankful you've all come," Iain said in a hushed tone. "I'm not a healer. I knew not what to do. I knew Flora and Lady Jessie could help him more than anyone."
"We'll do our best," Flora said. "But he'll need a lot of prayers."
***
Jessie woke up, a bit disoriented for a moment, then realized she was sitting in the padded chair by Torrin's bed. Bright morning light filtered through the two narrow windows. Her gaze darting to Torrin, she found him watching her. It had been two days since she'd arrived, and Torrin had been either sleeping or feverishly delirious most of the time.
"I like to watch you sleep," he murmured.
Thank the saints he was lucid and alert. "Are you feeling better?" she asked.
"Aye."
"Good." She stood, then sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to bump his leg, and pressed her palm to his forehead. Still a bit too warm, but his gaze was clear green, not glassy as it had been the day before. "Thank God you're improving." She smiled, a mist of happy tears burning her eyes.
"And thank you, too." He stared at her intently, but then his stomach growled.
She grinned. "Sounds like you're hungry."
"Mayhap."
At a rustling sound behind her, she turned to find Flora rising from her pallet near the fireplace. Jessie moved across the room, awoke Dolina and sent her after Torrin's breakfast, while Flora changed the poultice on his leg.
A half hour later, Jessie fed Torrin porridge. She enjoyed the task of giving him sustenance. He had argued and insisted he was capable of feeding himself, but she refused to let him. She simply wanted to help him in any way she could.
A knock sounded at the door. Dolina answered it, and a pretty, young, dark-haired woman entered the room, dressed as a lady rather than a servant.
"Good morn. I'm Rhona, Nolan's wife," she told Jessie, a solemn expression on her face. "How are you feeling this morn, m'laird?" she asked Torrin, moving closer.
"Better. This is Lady Jessie MacKay," Torrin said.
After pleasantries were exchanged, Torrin frowned and asked, "Has anyone told you about Nolan?"
"Aye, Sir Iain did. 'Twas one reason I wished to speak to you."
"I wanted to tell you myself, but I was blacked out and had a fever for… I don't ken how long it has been."
"Just over a week," Jessie said.
"Saints! That long?" he asked.
"I know," Rhona said. "I'm simply glad you are feeling better today. Sir Iain didn't tell me everything. When did Nolan die, and how did it happen?"
Jessie detected no emotion or tears in the young woman's gaze, which she found interesting and unusual.
"Several weeks ago, south of here," Torrin said. "He kidnapped Lady Isobel, and Chief MacKay killed him. 'Twas only a couple of nights after they stayed here on their journey. 'Twas a fair fight. Nolan was an outlaw."
"Aye," Rhona said, frowning. "I knew someone would kill him."
"When I'm up to it, some of the MacKays are going to take me to his gravesite. I ken you probably cannot go to the grave, because of wee Lainie, but we'll have a funeral for him here in the kirk."
She nodded. "After the funeral, with your permission, I would like to take Lainie and go stay with my mother and father for a while."
"Of course. Whatever you wish," Torrin said.
"I'll come back later and bring Lainie to see you." She gave a hint of a smile.
Torrin nodded. "My niece," he said to Jessie.
She forced a tight smile and watched Rhona leave the room. Once the door was closed, Jessie gave Torrin another bite of porridge. "She did not seem terribly upset over the death of her husband."
Torrin shook his head. "'Twas not a love match. Nolan seduced her, the daughter of a chieftain, got her with child and was forced to marry her. They were miserable together."
"I see." Each of the young women Jessie knew either had a bairn or were expecting a bairn, even those who'd had unhappy marriages. She felt completely lacking.
***
"Come, lie on the bed with me and get some sleep," Torrin said to Jessie late that night when they were alone.
As far as he could tell, she had slept very little since she'd been here at Munrick, for every time he awoke, she was there. Thank the saints for that, but she needed rest, too.
"Nay. Are you mad?" she asked in a loud whisper. "Someone might come in."
Flora and the maid had moved to the small chamber next door, but 'twas possible Flora would come in and give him more herbal tea later.
"Bar the door," he said. "That way you can open the door for them and they won't see us in bed together."
"Rogue," she muttered and tried to hide her smile.
He winked. "I promise not to molest you."
She narrowed her eyes, giving him a mock glare, but then her smile came through. "Very well." She rose from the chair and barred the door.
As she was walking back toward him and climbing onto the bed, excitement stampeded through him. Even though she was fully clothed and he was certainly in no condition to do anything about beautiful Jessie in his bed, 'twas still like seeing one of his dreams come true.
He took her hand and pulled her closer.
"I'll stay on top of the covers," she said.
"If you insist," he whispered, wishing more than anything she was nude, but he knew he would have to save that treat for later. "Lie right next to me."
She scooted and wiggled closer, and he put his arm around her.
"I don't want to hurt you," she whispered.
"You're not. Lay your head on my shoulder."
She did, turning toward him and placing her hand on his chest.
"Aye, that's it." He sighed, simply enjoying the feel of her curled next to him.
She'd promised to stay with him forever, and he wanted to know when they could marry. But he wouldn't bring the subject up now; it might make her tense.
"Get some sleep," he murmured and kissed her forehead.
"Aye. You, too."
Thanks to the herbal tea Flora had given him, he was soon asleep. When he awoke, early dawn light seeped through the windows. Jessie was still next to him, asleep. Saints, but she was lovely when she slept, and she fit perfectly in his bed.
Her presence alone made him want to leap from the bed and declare himself healed. But he couldn't yet. Still, he felt far better than he had yesterday and his thigh didn't pain him as much.
He wished he could stroke his fingers over Jessie's face and her lovely auburn brows, but he would likely wake her.
The door rattled, as if someone had tried to open it. Then, a knock sounded.
Jessie startled awake, glancing at him and blinking as if confused. A second later, she leapt from the bed, unbarred the door, and opened it.
Flora waited outside. "Is everything all right, m'lady?"
"Aye. I simply didn't want anyone coming in while I was asleep."
"Oh. I see." Flora's gaze flew to Torrin. "And how are you this morn, m'laird?"
"Fine as a fiddle."
"Glad I am to know that!"
Jessie watched Flora, preparing Torrin's herbal tea and a fresh poultice for his leg. She broke out into a cold sweat and, minute by minute, she felt more and more nauseous. She could not tolerate the scent of the herbs. What on earth? She slipped out into the corridor, then dashed to the garderobe. Thankfully, it was empty. She retched, though she had little on her stomach at this early hour. A couple of minutes later, she felt better.
She then remembered how sick Isobel was every morning.
"Saints!" she whispered. Am I with child?
Chapter Eighteen
Moisture filled Jessie's eyes, and she burst into happy and hopeful tears. As she cried, she prayed the nausea truly meant she was with child.
"M'lady is something wrong?" Flora asked from the other side of the curtain.
Wiping her tears, Jessie pushed the curtain aside. "I'm sick," she whispered with a mad chuckle.
Flora's eyes rounded, her concern obvious. "Sick, m'lady?"
"Aye," Jessie whispered. "Do you think you could tell if I'm with child?"
Flora's eyes grew even wider as she searched her face. "Is it the morning sickness you've got, then?"
"I think so. You must keep it a secret until we know for certain," Jessie said. "Promise me."
"I promise."
For the next three mornings, Jessie awoke nauseous. And although she was miserable, she was thrilled. She was fortunate to be able to rush to the garderobe each time.
On the fourth morning, she went to the chamber Torrin had told the maids to clean for her, so that she might nap there when she wasn't watching after him. She washed her face and rinsed her mouth, then took a sponge bath and changed clothes.
Her stomach felt much more settled now. She uncovered the bannocks Flora had left for her the night before and ate one. Flora had assured her that she was with child. She could hardly eat for smiling, happy tears filling her eyes. She needed to tell Torrin.
Minutes later, Jessie entered Torrin's room and found him propped against the pillows while he ate porridge.
"The maid brought you a bowl of porridge, too, m'lady," Flora said, giving her a smile.
"Good. I'm hungry."
"I'll be back in a few minutes," Flora said, then left the room.
"You're bright-eyed this morn," Jessie told Torrin.
"I'm looking at you."
She smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, watching him eat.
"Are you not going to eat?"
"Aye, but I wanted to tell you something first."
He eyed her suspiciously and lowered his bowl. "What is it?"
"I've been sick several mornings this week."
He frowned. "Sick?"
She nodded, smiling.
"Why? Are you well now? I've noticed you hurry out of the room each morn when you awake, but I thought you merely needed to… relieve yourself."
"Getting sick in the morn is a sign that… I am with child," she said, tears filling her eyes.
"What!" He almost dropped the bowl of porridge.
She took it from him and set it on the bedside table.
"With child?" he asked, raising his voice, his eyes wide.
"Shh. We don't want everyone to know yet," she whispered.
"You're with child?" he demanded, though in a quieter tone, a smile spreading across his face.
"Flora says 'tis likely. I've had the morning sickness for four mornings. Isobel has this ailment also."
"Saints, Jessie!" Torrin pulled her close and kissed her lips. 'Twas a quick but fierce kiss. His gaze searched hers for several seconds, his excitement as obvious as hers. "I cannot arise from this bed as of yet, nor get down on one knee. But, Lady Jessie, will you marry me?"
"Aye." She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him close, and he did the same, near squeezing the breath from her. She found herself laughing and crying at the same time.
He pulled back and brushed her tears away with his thumb. "Shh," he hissed but she detected a hint of moisture in his own eyes. "I love you," he whispered, then kissed her.
"And I love you," she said.
"Let's get married today." His eyes were alight with more eagerness than she'd ever seen.
She frowned. "Today! Are you mad?"
"Aye, why not? I believe I can stand." Moving his injured leg a bit, he grimaced.
"I don't want you to overdo it."
"I won't. But a man must stand for his own wedding."
"Nay. You do not have to. The minister can come in here."
He shook his head, looking disappointed. "That won't do at all. I'm the chief. The whole clan will want to witness our wedding."
"We'll wait until you're a bit better, then," she said, trying to calm him.
His eyes lit up again. "Tomorrow."
"Are you certain 'tis not still too soon? You must not injure yourself further."
"Nay. For you, Jessie, I could climb that mountain to the north of the castle. Let me get up."
"'Tis too soon, Torrin. In truth. You might start falling and I wouldn't be able to hold you up."
"I'll hold onto the bed."
She stood two feet from the bed, while he threw back the blankets. Today he wore a long-tailed shirt that came to mid-thigh and naught else. He slowly moved his injured leg. When it slid over the edge, he winced and clamped his teeth together. His knee bent and he growled, his face going white.
"Torrin, I told you, 'tis too soon!" Jessie said, grabbing onto his arm.
Flora rushed in the door. "What on earth are you doing, m'laird?"
"Getting married," he said through clenched teeth.
Flora gave Jessie a wide-eyed quizzical look, and Jessie's face felt scalded.
"I told him," Jessie said. "And this is what I get… Torrin trying to kill himself."
"Och! I'm not trying to kill myself. You said yourself my wound is looking better this morn," he told Flora. "The swelling is going down."
"Aye, but…"
"Nay. I intend to stand while I marry Lady Jessie." He lowered his healthy leg to the floor and pushed himself up. Holding onto the bed, he stood for a moment, getting his bearings, then he took a step, a loud growl of pain issuing forth.
Jessie draped his arm around her shoulder so she might act as a sort of crutch for him. He made it to the end of the bed and grasped onto the tall, carved post, but he wasn't done there. He rounded the foot of the bed and limped along to the other post.
"What in blazes is going on in here?" Iain asked from the open doorway, shock written upon his face.
"He insisted on walking," Jessie said.
"Iain," Torrin said, breathing hard, his face white and drenched with sweat.
"Aye." Iain came forward, concern clear on his face.
"Will you stand up with me tomorrow and be my best man?"
"What?" He frowned.
"Lady Jessie and I are to be wed tomorrow."
"In truth?" He looked to Jessie for confirmation.
She nodded. "If Torrin is up to it."
"I'm up to it, trust me," Torrin said in a near growl. Clearly, the pain was terrible.
"I told him we could wait a few days," Jessie said.
"Of course, I'll be your best man anytime you wish."
"But you must not overdo it today, if you want to feel well tomorrow," Jessie said.
Torrin nodded and turned to walk back to the other side of the bed, a horrid scowl on his face the entire time.
"Can I tell everyone?" Iain asked.
"Aye. Tell the servants to prepare a feast and decorate the great hall. Tell the whole of the clan to be ready to witness me marrying this beautiful lady tomorrow." Torrin sat on the edge of the bed and threw his good leg onto the mattress. Jessie helped him lift his wounded leg, and then covered him with the blankets.
"I need to talk to Dirk," Torrin said. "I'll need his permission."
"I'll have him come to visit you after you rest a while," Jessie said.
"I don't need to rest. I've rested for a fortnight."
"I can go get him," Iain said.
"Aye, if you would please," Torrin said, relaxing back.
"You haven't even finished eating," Jessie said after Iain left. She wiped Torrin's sweaty face with a cool cloth, then handed him the porridge again. After he caught his breath, he ate a few more bites, then she set the bowl aside.
Five minutes later, Dirk entered the room, a curious look in his eyes. "How are you, Torrin?"
"Almost better." He took Jessie's hand. "I want to ask you once more for you lovely sister's hand in marriage."
"Oh." Dirk looked to Jessie.
She nodded and smiled, happiness misting her eyes.
His brows shot up. "Aye, well, if Jessie is agreeable to the marriage, I certainly give my permission and my blessing."
"I thank you," Torrin said, kissing Jessie's hand. "I want you to know, I love this woman more than life itself. I'll protect her and make her as happy as I'm able."
Jessie's heart melted with Torrin's confession.
"I know you will," Dirk said, smiling. "Would you like me to draw up a contract?"
"Indeed. You can use my official chamber if you wish. You'll find paper, ink and anything you might need on the desk. Iain can show you where it is. We've decided that tomorrow is the day."
"That soon?"
"Aye. I've waited long enough to make this lady my wife."
"I'll set to work right away on the marriage contract, then." Dirk grinned. "Congratulations to you both. I've been hoping Jessie would finally get past her stubborn streak and marry you." He left the room.
"I wasn't being stubborn," Jessie muttered when she was alone with Torrin again.
"Call it what you will." Torrin smirked. "I agree with Dirk; you were stubborn."
Much to Jessie's annoyance, Torrin walked around the bed twice more that day. He assured her each time 'twas a bit easier, but she could not tell this by his horrid grimaces, curses and groans.
That night, Jessie slept in the guest chamber the servants had prepared for her. Several women of the clan insisted 'twould be for the best, for they should not see each other before the wedding. Flora slept on the pallet in Torrin's room, should he need anything.
A knock sounded at the door, waking Jessie. Morning sunlight streamed through the narrow window. Had she overslept?
She leapt up and the nausea struck her. She quickly found the empty chamber pot and retched into it. Flora rushed in. "Och! M'lady, I'm so sorry."
"'Tis all right." She arose and rinsed her mouth with the watered down wine from the jug on her bedside table.
"Laird MacLeod is all dressed and ready."
"What? This early?"
"Aye. Woke me at the crack of dawn, he did, insisting on a bath in the tub. His manservant came in and helped him dress in his finest plaid and doublet. He's a right handsome sight." She grinned.
"'Twill take me a wee bit to get ready," Jessie said, the nausea still tormenting her, though not as bad as before.
"I'll tell him to be patient, and then I'll send in the maids. I brought you two bannocks to help settle your stomach." She set a plate on the bedside table.
"I thank you."
While she ate, a crew of servants brought in a tub and filled it with buckets of hot water. It had been a while since she'd had anything more than a sponge bath. 'Twould feel heavenly to sink into that warm water.
An hour later, she was squeaky clean from her head to her toes, and dressed in a fine royal-blue gown she'd brought. When she'd packed it, she'd had no inkling she would be using it as her wedding dress… or did she? Why else would she bring her best gown?
Dolina braided sections of her drying hair and created a lovely hairstyle where some of her wavy hair remained down on her shoulders. She thought Torrin would like it this way.
"Och!" Flora exclaimed upon entering the room. "How lovely you look, m'lady!"
Jessie smiled. "I thank you, Flora."
"Are you feeling better?"
"Aye. Where is Torrin?"
"He's in the great hall with the rest of the men. They're all dressed in their finest."
Jessie's mouth dropped open. "Did he walk down there?"
"Aye, with the help of Iain and a walking stick."
Jessie shook her head, unable to believe how eager he was, and how much improvement he'd shown since yesterday.
She was eager, too, for she would soon be Torrin's wife.
***
Sitting in the great hall, Torrin kept glancing at the doorway leading to the staircase, hoping each time to see Jessie.
'Twas unfortunate that it was too early in the day to drink whisky. He could use a dram to take the edge off the sharp ache in his leg. But more, he needed to be fully himself when Jessie walked down those steps, and when he said his vows. He could endure a bit more pain in order to see his dreams come true.
His clan was happy that he was finally marrying, and that he was recovering. Each of them had congratulated him that morn when he'd entered the great hall. Female servants had decorated the large room with flowers and greenery, but mostly with sweet-smelling heather, which he knew Jessie would love. Musicians were playing various ballads from the elevated alcove at the opposite end of the great hall. Dirk, Keegan, Conall, Iain, and several more men sat at the high table, talking and drinking ale.
Torrin and Dirk had already signed the marriage contract. He truly did not care about the land in her dowry—he would've been just as happy without it—but it would benefit the clan, for they could grow more crops.
Dirk had already decided that he, Keegan and several others would leave the next morn for Dunnakeil, but a half dozen of the MacKays would stay until Torrin was able to travel south in a few weeks to find Nolan's grave.
"Women are hellishly slow when getting ready for their weddings," Dirk said, giving Torrin a sympathetic look.
Torrin nodded. "I remember, last winter, when you were awaiting Isobel." Dirk had been fidgety, pacing back and forth. Torrin felt like pacing, but couldn't at the moment. He had to save his strength for the wedding itself, which would be held here in the great hall instead of the chapel. This room was bigger; the whole clan and several villagers could attend, and he wouldn't have to walk down more steps.
"The waiting was torture," Dirk admitted.
"Mayhap you could go hurry her along a bit," Torrin suggested hopefully.
Dirk grinned and stood. "I'll try." He headed up the stairs.
A few minutes later, Flora emerged from the stairwell and whispered in Iain's ear. He grinned and stood. "'Tis time," he said to Torrin, while Flora ran back toward the stairs.
His heart pounding with excitement, Torrin pushed up from his chair and, using his walking stick, limped toward the area in front of the decorated fireplace where the wedding was to take place. He ground his teeth, determined to ignore the stabbing pains in his leg. Reverend MacPherson joined him and Iain.
Dirk emerged from the narrow stairwell, stepped aside, and Jessie appeared next. Saints, she was more beautiful than Torrin had ever seen her. Her fiery hair was down upon her shoulders, and the braids woven through with wee flowers. The blue gown hugged her slender curves. Again, he was overjoyed that she carried his bairn, though no one would guess by looking at her.
Her bright blue eyes held his, her love written clearly on her face, as her brother escorted her toward them. When she took his hand, she smiled, tears welling in her eyes.
"Don't cry," he whispered quiet as a breath. Because if she cried, he might be tempted to do so himself. And a chief simply couldn't cry before his clan.
He kissed her hand, then held it while Reverend MacPherson began the ceremony. Torrin heard a word here and there, enough to know that 'twas indeed a marriage ceremony, but the main focus of his attention was Jessie. She nervously glanced at him from time to time.
"You are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone. I give you my body, that we two might be one. I give you my spirit, 'til our life shall be done." Looking into her eyes, he repeated the rest of the vow after the minister.
As she said her vows, he listened to every word. Though 'twas the standard Gaelic vows, he knew she meant them with all her heart.
When it was time for the ring, he pulled the circle of gold from his sporran. He'd had it specially made for Jessie in the spring, when he'd become determined that he would marry her. The gold band was encrusted with several sapphires, rubies, and emeralds.
When he slid it onto her finger, she gasped, her eyes widening. 'Twas indeed a lovely ring that reminded him of her colorful beauty.
"With this ring, I thee wed," Torrin said. "With my body, I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods, I thee endow, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."
Jessie smiled and tears glistened in her eyes.
"Chief MacLeod, you may kiss your bride to seal the vows," the minister announced.
Finally, they were married. Torrin smiled and leaned down to kiss Jessie. Her lips were warm, sweet and welcoming beneath his.
A cheer went up loud enough to rattle the rafters. Jessie pulled back and laughed. Grinning, he pulled her close and kissed her again.
"You'll have to heal quickly, Chief, if you're to give your bride a proper wedding night," Struan said, giving rise to lots of laughter from the rest of the men.
Torrin grinned, knowing a secret they didn't. Jessie didn't mind doing some of the work. "Don't you worry about that. She'll enjoy the wedding night."
