Fraser 01 - Highland Legacy (22 page)

They traveled through the night and arrived at the Scott’s stronghold mid-morning. As they approached the castle gate, a guard stepped into their path with his broadsword raised.

“Halt, and state your business,” the sentry growled.

“My name is Connor Fraser. I wish to speak to Laird Scott.” He looked down at Cailin, and then back at the guards. “Please, the lady needs a healer.”

“It could be a trick, Seamus.” Another guard joined the first and grabbed Thor’s reins. “What ails the lass?”

“The English held her prisoner at Carlisle Castle. She suffered greatly at their hands. We seek sanctuary. Laird Scott and I are old friends.” He shifted Cailin in his arms. “She burns with fever and will die if her injuries are not tended.”

Seamus moved closer. “She doesn’t look well. I dinna believe this to be a trick. Come, we’ll take you to Laird Scott. But before we do, you must give me your blade, and any other weapons you carry.”

Connor handed over his sword, pulled a dirk from the sheath at his waist, along with the one hidden in his boot. Under normal circumstances, he would never surrender his weapons, but Cailin needed help, and he’d lay down his own life for hers if necessary. He would not let her down again.

“Hold! Seamus, who are these people, and what do they want?” Atop the castle parapet stood a tall man, cloaked in black.

“He said his name is Connor Fraser and claims he knows you. The lass needs a healer.” Seamus pointed at Cailin. “Should I send them away, m’lord?”

“Raise the portcullis and bring them to me at once,” Michael Scott demanded, before disappearing into the shadows.

Seamus escorted them over the narrow wooden bridge and into the bailey, where the presence of strangers drew a great deal of interest. But the sea of curious faces sobered and the drone of whispers ceased when Laird Scott descended the castle steps.

“There’s naught to see here. Be about your business, lest you wish to see the inside of the dungeon.” Laird Scott crossed his arms over his chest, and waited for the crowd to disperse.

“I appreciate your help, Michael.”

“It’s been a long time, my friend. I’m glad you came to me for help.” He bowed his head and crossed himself. “I was very sorry to hear about your cousin, Simon. Scotland suffered a great loss when he was captured at Kirkenclif and executed by Longshanks.” His eyes narrowed when he looked at Cailin. “What happened to the lass?”

“She was charged with a murder she dinna commit, and the English held her at Carlisle Castle pending execution. My brothers and I rescued her before they had the chance.”

“Where are your brothers now?”

“Alasdair and Bryce stayed behind to stop anyone that might try to follow. They’ll join us once it is safe to do so.”

Scott turned abruptly and addressed his two guards. “Seamus, the lady is to be taken to the chamber atop the North Tower. Unless I tell you otherwise, no one but you and Brodie are to know of her identity. If anyone asks, they are two weary travelers in need of lodging. Do you understand?” He waited for the two men to nod in agreement before he continued. “Brodie, find Fallon and tell her to bring her healing herbs and potions. Best you send for Father Francis as well.”

“The fewer people who know of your identity the better. Give her to me.” Carefully taking Cailin into his arms, Michael waited for Connor to dismount before handing her back to him.

“Husband, what is it?” A petite, dark-haired woman descended the stairs and joined the group of men.

“This is my wife, Lauren.”

Connor nodded. “Lady Scott.”

Lauren stepped closer and immediately ran her hand over Cailin’s brow. “Husband, the lass needs a healer.”

“I’ve sent for Fallon. Connor is an old friend, and I’ve offered them refuge in the North Tower. Will you show them the way?”

“I’ll see to it immediately.” Lauren gathered her skirts and hurried into the castle. Connor followed.

They crossed the great hall, then climbed to the top of a steep, winding staircase. Lady Scott paused at the end of a dark hallway and slid a key into the lock of a large oak door. “This solar once belonged to my husband’s mother.” She grabbed a torch from a sconce on the wall, pushed the door open, and stepped inside. “The chamber will serve well as a sickroom.”

The room was cold and dark, but Seamus entered on their heels and started a fire. He lit several tallow candles, placed two on the mantle of the hearth and one on a table beside the bed. “If you need anything else, m’lady, just call. I’ll be standing guard at the foot of the stairs.”

“Has Brodie gone to fetch Fallon?”

“Aye, he has.”

“Good. If I need anything, I’ll let you know. Be off with you now, and send Fallon up as soon as she arrives.” Lady Scott dismissed him with a wave of her hand. Once Seamus had left the room, she turned to faced Connor. “Best we get her settled.”

He carried Cailin across the room and gently placed her on the bed. “I’m grateful for your kindness, m‘lady.”

Lady Scott joined him beside the bed. “The lass is very weak and her breathing is labored.” She pressed a hand to Cailin’s flushed cheek. “Her fever is high. How did she come by her injuries?”

Her husband had not elaborated, but Connor felt she had a right to know they housed fugitives. He explained the circumstances leading up to Cailin’s arrest and the details of her rescue. “The English will come after us. I’ll understand if you wish to turn us out rather than risking Longshanks’ wrath.”

“We have no intention of turning you away. You are welcome to stay as long as necessary.”

“Thank you, m’lady. You’re most kind.” He moved to the other side of the bed. “She’s with child. I’m not even certain the extent of her injuries. After we rescued her from the dungeon, there was no time to seek a healer. I treated the wounds I could see, but I know there must be more than meets the eye.”

A soft rap on the door interrupted their conversation. “Aye, who is it?” Lady Scott called out.

“Fallon. Brodie said you’re in need of my healing skills.”

“That we are, and none too soon.” Lady Scott rushed across the chamber and threw open the door.

A striking young woman with hair as black as coal, flawless porcelain skin, and eyes the color of sapphires stepped into the room.

“Did Brodie explain what happened?” Lady Scott asked as she escorted Fallon toward the bed.

“Aye. He explained everything.”

“Please see what you can do for her.” Lady Scott placed her hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Come with me and let Fallon tend to her.”

“I’ll not leave.” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Fallon. “Can you help her?”

After a quick assessment of Cailin’s condition, Fallon shook her head and clucked her tongue. “I’ll do my utmost to make her comfortable and will see to her injuries, but I can make no promises.”

“What of the babe?” Connor asked.

She placed her hand over the swell of Cailin’s belly and closed her eyes. “The babe has a strong spirit. If the mother lives, the bairn has a good chance. Only time will tell.”

With a sweep of her hand, Fallon motioned toward the door. “I’ll do what I can to save both mother and bairn. Now, be off with you, and let me to do my work.”

Connor moved closer to the bed. “Cailin is my betrothed, and it is my duty to stand by her side.”

“Your dedication is admirable, but she is in good hands. You trusted us enough to bring her here, now you must trust us with her care.” Lady Scott grasped his arm. “Fallon will let us know of her condition once she has treated her injuries.”

“She is very young. Are you sure she knows what to do?” he asked Lady Scott.

“She may be ten and nine summers, but her mother taught her well. I trust her judgment. Fallon has also been blessed with the gift.”

“The gift?”

“
Taibhsearachd
. She has the gift of second sight. Her mother had it, as did her grandmother and great-grandmother before that.”

Connor arched a brow. “I dinna set store in such things. Her ability as a healer is what matters.” He found it hard to hide his skepticism.

“I’d trust her with my life. Come, we’ll join my husband in the great hall and await word of Lady Cailin’s condition.” She placed her hand on Connor’s forearm, but he refused to move.

“I’ll step aside and allow the healer to work, but I’ll not leave the room. I have no intention of letting Cailin out of my sight.”

“Fine. You can stay if you promise not to interfere with my treatments,” Fallon conceded.

“You have my word.” Connor reluctantly moved to the far side of the room and sat in a large wooden chair.

Fallon added willow bark, coriander, rosemary, comfrey, and henbane to a large pot of boiling water. “The tea will aid in the replenishment of fluids. The herbs I have selected will help to combat the fever, pain, and infection.” After stirring the bubbling concoction several times, she moved to a small table beside the hearth. In a crockery bowl, she ground cloves, saffron, and fox cote into a fine powder. “In a poultice, these herbs reduce swelling and are effective against wound infections.”

“C—Connor,” Cailin muttered softly. Her head rolled from side to side and she arched her back, moaning in pain.

Connor sprang to his feet and took a step toward the bed, but stopped when Fallon held up her hand in protest. “You promised not to interfere.”

He grumbled under his breath and fisted his hands at his sides, fighting the urge to rush to Cailin’s side. Guilt tugged at the pit of his stomach.

Had I stayed with her, instead of going off to battle with the Bruce, Cailin would not have suffered at Borden’s hand.

Cailin moaned again, and it took every ounce of inner strength for Connor to stand his ground.

“Easy lass, you’re safe, and your man is here. You must rest, save your strength.” Fallon dipped a linen rag into a bowl of cool water, mint, and willow bark. After ringing out the cloth, she laid it across Cailin’s fevered brow. “If you’ve any hope of surviving, we must get the fever to break. First, I need to remove this wretched gown.”

Cailin whimpered when Fallon rolled her to her side. “I know this hurts, but it must be done.” She used a dirk to slit the tattered garment up the back, then removed the layers of filthy fabric, exposing Cailin’s back. “Holy Mother of God, what did those English bastards do to you?”

Connor moved forward, gasping when he saw the angry welts and gashes lacing her back. “I had no idea she’d been flogged. If I’d known, I’d have found Borden, cut off his ballocks, and rammed them down his throat.”

“And you’d both be dead.” Fallon shook her head. “This is not the first time she has felt the lash.” Her hand lightly traced several raised ridges of flesh, scattered amidst the new wounds.

“I noticed the scars the first night we spent together, but she refused to talk about what happened, and I dinna push the issue. From what I know of her childhood, there is no doubt in my mind that her father is responsible. If I could have one minute alone with him, he’d rue the day he ever laid a hand to her.”

“You can not change the past.” Fallon pointed with authority at the chair. “Sit down, or I will have Seamus and Brodie remove you from the chamber.”

Connor reluctantly obeyed, straining to watch Fallon heal his beloved Cailin.

After carefully cleaning the wounds, Fallon applied a thick layer of herbal ointment. “There. I’m done torturing you for now.” She wiped her hands on her apron, replaced Cailin’s soiled clothing with a clean night rail, then covered her wraith-thin body with lightweight plaid.

Getting Cailin to drink the healing liquid proved to be a challenge. Fallon carefully slid a spoon between her dry, chapped lips. “You need to drink, lass,” she encouraged softly, but most of the tea trickled down Cailin’s chin.

After another unsuccessful attempt, Fallon placed the bowl on a table beside the bed. “Rest now. I’ll try again later.
All we can do now is pray that you have the strength to fight, and a strong will to live.”

Chapter 23

Cailin whimpered, and this time Connor refused to be naysayed. He quickly crossed the chamber, but stopped at the foot of the bed. The flush of fever tinted her gaunt cheeks and she lay deathly still. Her shallow breathing was scarcely noticeable. If not for the occasional soft moan, one would believe her already gone.

Icy fingers of despair squeezed his chest until he couldn’t breathe. Connor moved to her side and fell to his knees. Clutching her hand, he lifted it to his lips. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you,” he muttered against her knuckles.

He loved Cailin, but until this moment, he hadn’t realized how much. It didn’t really matter when or how it happened, he loved her with every fiber of his being. Right now, he’d willingly stand naked on the parapet and declare his feelings to the entire world if he thought it would make a difference. If he could change places with her and take away the pain, he would. If he could erase the horrible memories of the last few months and give her back her youthful innocence, he’d do it in a heartbeat. However, he was painfully aware that in that same heartbeat, the Almighty could snatch her from this earth, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do to stop it.

He wasn’t a religious man. The brutal murder of his mother and youngest brother had put his faith to the test. The death of his father and oldest brother, Keith, squelched what little had remained. No, he was not a religious man, yet he bowed his head and prayed. He begged the Almighty to spare his betrothed, and their unborn child, and if by some miracle she lived, he swore a silent oath to spend the rest of his days protecting her.

She was the bravest woman he had ever known, a warrior in her own right. Perhaps it was not on a battlefield, but she’d stood up for what she believed in, faced Borden’s wrath, and English tyranny with grace and dignity. Her father had condemned her as a child for her wild spirit and temerity, but today Connor praised her for it. Not only did he love her, he respected and admired her.

“Tha gaol agam ort
...I love you!” he whispered against the back of her hand, but she did not stir. In desperation, he leaned over and repeatedly kissed her lips and cheeks, but there was no response. Tears welled in his eyes as he sank to the floor, her hand clutched to his heart. “
Tha mi duilich
...I’m so sorry. Please dinna leave me,
leannan
.”

He heard Fallon cross the room, but his gaze remained on Cailin. “Borden’s men will surely give chase, and I must get her as far away from the border as possible. I dinna want to put Laird Scott or his clan at risk. If she survives, how long will it be before she can travel?”

“That is a question I cannot answer. Laird Scott is a man of his word and a fierce warrior. He offered you sanctuary and would never surrender the lady without a fight. I’m certain that you are welcome to stay as long as necessary. As to when she will be strong enough to travel, she must first make it through this night.”

He nodded, pulled a chair up beside the bed, and sat down. It wasn’t long before his head dropped back and he drifted off. The sound of her calling out in her delirium woke him and brought Fallon rushing to the bedside.

He leaned forward and ran his hand across her brow. “What is it,
leannan?
” He tried to understand what she said, but it made no sense to him. “The fever burns hotter than before.” He looked up at Fallon and shook his head.

“P—please, papa, I’m sorry. Dinna lock me in the pit. I’m afraid of the dark.” Cailin sobbed. “I won’t disobey you again.” Her head rolled from side to side as she thrashed beneath the covers. “Please dinna hit me again.”

His heart twisted in his chest.

“She must be reliving a punishment from her childhood. When a person is ill, their mind conjures up all sorts of memories,” Fallon said softly. “From the sounds of it, her father must be a terrible man.”

“She told me her father never forgave her for being first born and blamed her for the death of her mother and twin brother. From what I gather, he had no use for a daughter, and there was no love lost between them.

Cailin cried out again.

Connor leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “Everything will be all right,
mo gaol
, I’m here, and no one will ever hurt you again.” He placed a cooling cloth on her brow and glanced up at Fallon. Fallon frowned. “So far, nothing I have tried seems to work. I could try purging or bloodletting, but to be honest, I believe those rituals do more harm than good. I feel the same way about leeches. While they are often helpful in treating a bruise, they are good for little else.”

“After the battle of Dumfries, one of the wounded burned with a fever that would not break. The healer immersed him in water from the stream and saved his life. While not the usual practice, it might help.”

“We could try. I have oft struggled with the age-old tradition of keeping the room so hot one cannot breathe, of smothering fevered flesh with furs and plaid when more heat is the last thing they needed.” She smoothed her hand over the blanket on Cailin’s bed. “In the past, my ideas were considered heretical. Some even accused me of trying to kill the person, not heal them.”

“Her time grows short. Do what you can to save her.”

“If you are in agreement, I’ll ask Brodie and Seamus to bring up the laird’s tub, and fill it with temped water. Mayhap, if I add yarrow, willow bark, and comfrey, it will also help to ease the pain and fight the infection.” She picked up a bowl of steaming liquid and handed it to him. “I made a tea containing many of the same herbs, but I’ve not had much luck getting her to drink it. Mayhap you could try.”

He curled his nose up in distain at pungent smelling amber liquid and held it at arm’s length.

“The benefits far outweigh the unpleasant odor.” She smiled and moved toward the door. Before leaving the chamber, she turned and looked at him. “I’ll give you some time alone with your lady and arrange for the tub. If she wakes, see that she drinks as much as she can stomach. She needs the fluids, and the herbs will help to ease the pain.”

Connor settled into the chair beside the bed. He plucked another rag from the bowl of cold water and placed it on her fevered brow. “I’m here,
liuadhe
,” he muttered softly, but she did not respond.

Fallon returned a short time later. On her directions, Seamus and Brodie brought a large wooden tub into the chamber and filled it with warm water before taking their leave. After adding an assortment of herbs, she turned to Connor. “Bring her to me. We’ll immerse her in the tub and pray the fever will break.”

He carefully slid one arm beneath Cailin’s knees, the other behind her back. She moaned when he lifted her, but did not come fully wake. He carried her across the room and eased her into the warm water, night rail and all.

Cailin opened her eyes at the shock of being submerged, but closed them again before he could even speak her name.

After what seemed like forever, Fallon told him to lift her from the tub. She waited by the bed, where she’d laid out a dry night rail, healing salves, and a basket of linen dressings. “Wrap her in the toweling I left beside the tub and bring her to me. I’ll tend to her wounds, then help her into some dry clothes.”

Once Cailin was back in bed, he tugged his wet shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. His trews followed.

Afforded an unexpected view of his bare backside, Fallon gasped. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He grinned at her embarrassment and slipped beneath the blankets. “I’m lying with my lady.” He gently eased Cailin to her side so she lay nestled in the curve of his arm, with her cheek and hand resting on his chest.

“You cannot possibly think to bed her?”

“I dinna plan to tup her. I only mean to lay by her side. I could not prevent this terrible thing from happening, but I will hold her now, and keep her safe. If the Almighty sees fit to take her this night, he will have to pluck her from my arms. If she lives, my face will be the first thing she sees when she awakens.”

Cailin opened her eyes and blinked several times, uncertain if she was dreaming, or delirious from fever. Her fingers curled in the soft dark chest hair on which her hand rested. Connor’s broad chest gently rose and fell with even breaths, and his heart beat rhythmically beneath her open palm. The familiar scent of male, musk, and spices, unique to the man she loved, filled her senses. She wasn’t dreaming or dead. He was alive, and holding her in his arms. Her heart soared, and she wanted to spring from the bed and shout with joy. But she couldn’t muster the strength to raise her head. The slightest movement caused the room to spin. Nausea rocked her stomach, and the pain radiating across her back served as a vivid reminder of the flogging she’d suffered.

“Cailin?” Connor’s thick, dark lashes lifted from his cheeks and their eyes met. “Thank the Almighty, the fever has broken. How do you feel?”

He held her so tightly she could hardly breathe and repeatedly feathered kissed across her brow, cheeks, and the tip of her nose. “I feel like I’ve been trampled by horses and dragged for miles.”

“That doesn’t surprise me, given what you’ve been through.” He carefully shifted his weight and rolled to his side. They lay face to face. He caressed her belly with his hand and smiled. “Our babe is strong. Throughout the night, I felt him kicking and moving about. How do you ever get any sleep?”

Her hand covered his. “I would gladly stay awake the entire nine moons, as long as the babe is safe and healthy. “It pleases you?” Her eyes searched his.

“The babe?”

She nodded.

“Aye,
liuadhe,
more than words can express. I’m sorry that I was not there when you needed me.”

She raised her fingers to his lips. “You are not to blame for what happened. I’m so thankful you’re here now. When I saw Williams run you through, I was certain you were dead.”

“I should have been. If I dinna know better, I’d say he missed his mark on purpose. The arrow I took in the shoulder did more damage than the sword.”

A thought flashed through her mind. Had the soldier’s poor aim been intentional? Had she actually managed to reach the man’s heart? Perhaps not all of the English were the scoundrels and blackguards she believed them to be. She closed her eyes, shook her head, and banished the thought. After what she’d seen of English justice, and mercy, Williams was an exception at best.

The door opened and a woman entered the chamber carrying a wooden tray. She crossed the room, stopping at the foot of the bed. “Don’t you look as bright as a new coin this morning?”

“Who is she?” Cailin whispered.

“Her name is Fallon. Thanks to her healing skill, you are alive.”

“You flatter me, m’lord. While I would like to take the credit, the lass’s strong will to live played a big role in her survival.” She smiled at Cailin. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better. You had us all worried.”

“I’m sorry to have caused so much trouble. Where are we?”

“You’re at Buccleuch, the castle of Laird Michael Scott. They brought you here three days ago.” Fallon placed the tray on the table beside the bed.

“We are in Scotland?” She sighed in relief. Her father had mentioned the powerful border family, but she had never met any of them until today.

“Aye,
liuadhe.
Michael Scott is a childhood friend. When I was a lad, Simon brought me with him when he went to buy horses from Michael’s father. He had the finest destriers in the Borderlands. When we rescued you from Carlisle Castle, it seemed a logical place to seek refuge.”

The grief in his eyes at the mention of his cousin’s name was unmistakable, and her heart went out to him. “I’m very sorry about Simon. I know how much he meant to you and your brothers,” she said softly. “Mary was devastated. Have you seen her? Please tell me she is safe and well.”

“Eventually all men die, but Simon gave his life for a cause dear to his heart. A man can only hope to leave this world with such honor.” Connor tried to clear his throat before he continued, but his voice thickened with emotion. “Mary is safe at Oliver Castle with her mother.”

“Saints be praised.” She crossed herself and bowed her head.

Fallon moved toward the bed, her hands planted firmly on her hips. “I may have been weak last night when I allowed you to stay here, m’lord, but I have come to my senses today. I’ll see you up and dressed, so I can tend to the lass’s dressings. Then she needs to rest.” Fallon tugged at the plaid blanket, leaving him exposed. “Get up before I take a switch to your arse.” She cocked her head and grinned. “And bonny arse it is.”

“Woman, you try my patience.” He leapt from the bed, grabbed the blanket from her hands, and wrapped it around his waist. He reached for his trews. “Were you never taught that a man should only be seen naked by a woman he wishes to bed?”

“You showed no shame last night.” Fallon chuckled. “I’m here to tend to my patient and do not want you underfoot. Whether you’re dressed or not makes no difference to me, but I want you out of here. As clan healer, you’re not the first man I’ve seen without his clothes.”

Cailin covered her mouth, stifling a grin. “Best you do as she says. I have a feeling she is not one who takes kindly to being crossed.” As he stood beside the bed with the plaid clutched in his fist and draped around his hips, Cailin couldn’t help admiring his magnificent body. If she had the strength and wasn’t in so much pain, she’d have insisted he stay and Fallon be the one to leave.

He grumbled beneath his breath and slid his legs into his trews. “I’ll leave the bed, but not the room.” He grabbed his shirt and slid it over his head.

Fallon stood her ground. “You’ll go down to the great hall and break your fast with the laird and his lady wife. If you’ve a mind to be helpful, ask the cook to send up some broth.” She turned to Cailin. “I was not expecting you to be awake. Mayhap you would like a wee bit to eat.”

“I’ll not leave her.” He stood with his feet braced slightly apart and his arms folded over his chest.

“I’ll be fine, Connor. Please go and break your fast. I’m sure Fallon will call you if there’s a need.”

“I will. Now be gone with you.” Fallon pointed to the door.

“I can see I’m outnumbered on this. I’ll go, but I’ll be back.” Before he left, he lifted Cailin’s hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

Ignoring the fact that the door slammed behind him, Fallon opened several small linen sacks and poured their contents into a wooden bowl. She added some water and stirred the mixture. “He’s a good man, and he loves you very much.”

Cailin lowered her eyes. “He has never said the words.” She shifted in the bed trying to get comfortable, but movement caused the pain to worsen and her head began to spin.

Fallon patted Cailin on the shoulder. “Trust me when I say he loves you. Some people just have a hard time finding the words. Your man carries a heavy burden on his shoulders for one so young. He must learn to let go of the past and look to the future.”

“Aye, he is a fine man and will make a wonderful father.”

“You must also learn to forget the past.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’ve carried your own share of pain for a very long time. You must let go of the disappointment and loss you suffered as a child. What happened to you at the hands of your father and again with the English are terrible injustices, but physical injuries heal with time. I know that a wounded heart does not heal as easily, but you must try. You’ll soon be a mother and with a good man like Connor by your side, the future is bright.”

How did she know all of this? There was something about Fallon that Cailin couldn’t put her finger. She rested her hand on her belly. “Is the babe going to be all right?”

“You are both lucky to be alive. Like his mother, the babe is a fighter. I have every reason to believe he will be fine. Provided you rest and dinna do anything too strenuous.” She returned her attention to the bowl of herbs. “Used as a poultice, these will help to fight infection. It doesn’t smell very nice, but it works well.” She lay several strips of linen on the tray and spread the pungent mixture over them.

Cailin closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. The pain and nausea had returned with a vengeance.