Highland Thirst (35 page)

“Are
ye thirsty?” Tearlach stood and moved to collect the goblet. Easing to sit on
the bed beside her, he then slid one arm behind her back to raise her up so he
could press the goblet to her lips. Lucy drank greedily, but not for long.
Tearlach soon pulled the glass away, concern on his face.

“Slowly,
love. Yer stomach may just toss it back up do ye no’ go slowly,” he cautioned
and Lucy’s eyes flickered at the term of endearment he didn’t seem to realize
he’d used. She didn’t comment, however, he was raising the goblet to her lips
again and her thirst took precedence at the moment. Drinking more slowly this
time, she sipped from the goblet and swished the liquid around her mouth,
making sure to wet every nook and cranny before allowing the soothing liquid to
slide down her throat.

“Better,”
Tearlach murmured, offering her a smile.

Lucy
automatically smiled back around the goblet and nearly slobbered all over
herself. Deciding smiling was something else that would have to wait, she
forced it away and continued drinking in little increments of liquid until the
goblet was empty.

“Do
ye want more?” Tearlach asked as he lowered her back on the bed.

“Nay,
thank you,” Lucy whispered. “I’d best see how this bit settles before I try
more.”

Tearlach
nodded and set the goblet back on the table, but didn’t move from the bed.
Instead, he peered at her solemnly, taking in each feature of her face as if he’d
feared he’d never see them again.

“Ye
look better,” he announced after a moment and she laughed at the suggestion,
knowing she probably looked a mess. She didn’t know how long she’d been
feverish, but knew it had probably left her looking less than her best.

“Ye
do,” Tearlach insisted with a frown. “Yer no’as pale as ye were. Ye looked near
death’s door these last two nights.”

“I
have been ill for two nights?” Lucy asked with surprise.

“Three
if ye count the night we rode here,” Tearlach answered making her eyebrows
rise, but she didn’t tell him she knew it had been more than a night that they’d
traveled, that he’d swaddled them in blankets so that he could continue to ride
in daylight.

“Thank
you for bringing me to Betty,” she whispered.

He
nodded, and then commented, “She’s as good a healer as ye claimed. I thought
sure she widnae be able to save ye when we got here. Ye’d lost so much blood
and were terrible pale.”

Lucy
nodded, then her eyes widened with recall and she told him, “Heming escaped
Rosscurrach.”

“Aye.
Ye said as much ere we headed here.”

“Did
I?” she asked with surprise, not recalling doing so. When he nodded, she asked,
“Have you heard news? Has he reached his clan?”

Tearlach
frowned and shook his head. “I’ve heard nothing, but two search parties ha’e
stopped here for meals while we’ve been here, one was made up of Scots, so I’m
guessing they’re still looking for him.”

“And
the other?” she queried quietly.

“Carbonnel
men,” he answered grimly.

Lucy
merely nodded at this news. She’d known Wymon would still be hunting for them.
In fact, she’d bet he was growing desperate by now. She was too dangerous to
him to be allowed to run loose. The king wouldn’t take kindly to news that
Wymon had murdered her brother.

She
noted Tearlach glancing toward the window and followed his gaze, alarmed to see
the first streaks of sunlight crossing the sky.

Reaching
for his hand, she touched it to get his attention.

“The
sun is rising, I know you have to go,” Lucy said softly, then frowned and
asked, “where is it you are taking shelter here during the day?”

“The
cellar,” Tearlach answered.

Recalling
Betty saying that she’d had to tend her in the cellar the first day because he
wouldn’t let her go, Lucy nodded and said, “You really should go.”

“Aye,”
he agreed, but didn’t move, simply peering at her worriedly. “Yer sure yer all
right?”

“Aye.
I am fine. I am on the mend and will be up and about in no time,” she assured
him and then bit her lip and added, “I know you must be worried about your
cousin. There is no need to stay here with me if you wish to look for him and
see to his well-being.”

Tearlach
shook his head as he got to his feet. “He’s weel away by noo I’d think. I
promised to see ye to court and the king and that’s what I’ll be doin’. After
that is soon enough to meet up with me clan and discover what’s been about and
what we plan to do about it.”

Lucy
merely smiled, managing to hide her relief at his words. She would not lose him
yet.

“Rest
and mend, we’ll talk more tonight,” he promised, and then hesitated before
bending to press his lips to her forehead. Lucy closed her eyes with a little
sigh at the caress and promptly fell asleep. When she awoke again the room was
full of sunlight and Betty was bustling about, humming a little tune under her
breath.

“How
long have I slept?” she asked with surprise, sitting up and scowling at how
much effort it took to do so.

“You’re
awake!” Beaming as if she’d done something especially clever, Betty rushed
across the room to the bed.

“Aye,”
Lucy agreed dryly. “I must have slept for hours. It was dawn when Tearlach said
good night.”

“You’ve
slept one full day and night and about three hours then,” Betty informed her.

“What?”
Lucy gasped with horror.

“It
was my potion,” Betty said apologetically. “I put it in your drink. I told
Tearlach not to let you drink too much, but he thought I meant because you’d
been without so long. He hadn’t realized I’d put a sleeping potion in the drink
and let you drink it all. It made you sleep long and hard.”

Lucy
started to close her eyes at this news, then forced them quickly wide open for
fear she’d lose another day.

“‘Tis
all right,” Betty said, patting her hand. “It should be out of your body by
now.”

Lucy
released a breath of relief and the maid smiled.

“It
was probably for the best. Sleep is the best healer and you are looking like
the long rest has done you good. You have more color and appear much more alert
this time,” she informed her, and then asked, “how do you feel?”

“Hungry,”
Lucy said promptly and Betty laughed softly.

“That
is always a good sign, my lady. You’ll be up and about in no time. I shall go
fetch you some broth.”

Lucy
scowled as the door closed behind the maid. She’d said she was hungry. Broth
would hardly cure that, but she suspected the maid wouldn’t let her move to
solid food until she was literally up and about. Setting her teeth
determinedly, Lucy slid her legs off the bed and slowly levered herself to her
feet.

The
thump of an empty barrel hitting the floor brought Tearlach awake with a start.
Turning his head, he found William casting an apologetic wince his way from the
opposite side of the cellar.

“I’m
sorry, Tearlach. It slipped out of my hands.”

He
waved away the apology and ran a hand through his hair as he sat up on the
pallet they had set up for him in the inn’s cellar. “‘Tis all right, the sun
has nearly set anyway.”

William’s
eyebrows rose at his words. “How is it you always know that?”

“I
am no’ sure,” Tearlach admitted as he stood. “It has always just been that way.”

“Hmm,”
William muttered and turned to move the empty barrel next to several others in
the corner.

Knowing
the man would be expected to bring up a fresh barrel to replace the empty one,
Tearlach crossed the room to get it for him. He was hefting it onto his
shoulder when Lucy’s stable master turned around.

“‘Tis
all right, I can do that,” William said, hurrying to his side when he saw what
Tearlach was about.

“As
can I,” he answered mildly and then shrugged. “‘Tis little enough effort in
return fer all ye and Betty ha’e done for Lucy and me.”

“She’s
our lady,” William said quietly.

“But
I am no’,” Tearlach pointed out with a smile and turned to lead the way
upstairs to the main floor of the inn. Despite the danger of being seen, he
carried the barrel through the kitchen and out into the main room, walking
quickly around behind the bar to set it down.

“Thank
you, my lord, and good evening to you,” William’s brother greeted him as he
straightened. Harold was rather barrel shaped himself, but otherwise was an
older version of his brother.

Tearlach
nodded a greeting, then turned and headed for the stairs, thinking just to
check on Lucy before returning below to don his boots and sword.

“If
it’s Lucy you’re looking for, you’ll not find her up here,” Betty announced
with annoyance as she started down the stairs toward him.

Pausing
on the first step, Tearlach raised his head to glance at William’s wife, his
gaze full of surprise. “I willnae?”

“No,”
Betty said grimly. “She is up and about despite my best advice and presently
out in the stables.”

“The
stables?” he echoed with horror.

“Aye.
She wanted to take Trinket a carrot.”

“But—”
Tearlach paused, briefly at a loss. Finally he snapped, “She shouldnae be oot o’
the inn. What if Carbonnel’s men come? She could be spotted.”

“Aye,”
Betty agreed dryly as she reached the step above him and paused. “Mayhap if you
tell her that, she will listen. She does not seem to want to listen to me.”

Ignoring
the mutters that followed about her lady being stubborn and bullheaded,
Tearlach turned and hurried out of the inn. He crossed the courtyard at a quick
clip and burst into the stables only to find it apparently empty. About to turn
and march back out, Tearlach paused when the soft murmur of a woman’s voice
reached his ears.

Eyes
narrowing, he followed the sound, not terribly surprised to find it led him to
Trinket’s stall. Pausing outside the stall, he peered over the door to see Lucy
seated in the straw before the horse, holding up the last of a carrot for the
mare to take.

“Lucy,”
he said shortly and she glanced up toward him with a start, then smiled
brightly, and hopped to her feet.

“Oh,
hello, Tearlach. Is it sunset already?” she asked, unhooking the stall door and
slipping out to stand before him.

“Aye,”
he growled, scowling in the face of her good cheer. He opened his mouth to
berate her for being out here where she might be seen by a passing search
party, but found himself distracted when she slid her arm through his and
turned him toward the door of the stables.

“I
know I should not have risked coming out here, but I was very careful. I even
made William check the lane to be sure no search parties were approaching ere
hurrying across the courtyard to the stables,” she informed him solemnly, and
then added, “I just wanted to see Trinket and reassure her all was well. I
usually visit her every day whether intending to ride or not so knew she must
feel neglected. Besides,” she added with a grimace, “I needed a moment to
myself without Betty hovering over me like a mother hen. She is not happy with
my being out of bed and has been scowly faced all afternoon. Rather like you
are right now,” she added with amusement.

“I
am no’ scowly faced,” Tearlach protested.

“Aye,
ye are. Yer scowling right noo,” Lucy teased, imitating his accent.

Pausing,
he turned a narrow-eyed look her way. “Are ye makin’ fun o’ me, lass?”

“Just
a little,” she assured him with a soothing smile, then urged him to continue
walking. “When can we leave for court?”

“Eager
to be free o’ me already, are ye?” Tearlach asked dryly and she turned wide
horrified eyes his way.

“Nay!”
she assured him. “I just thought...Well, I know you have responsibilities...You...I
am not eager to be rid of you,” she said finally. “But I know you are worried
about your cousin and need to get news of your own well-being to your family
and clan. It is only me who has kept you from already doing so.”

Tearlach
opened his mouth to speak, but paused as they heard what sounded to be a large
party riding into the courtyard. Gesturing for her to wait where she was, he
turned and crossed the rest of the distance to the stable doors to peer
cautiously out.

Of
course, Lucy didn’t listen to him. Tearlach rolled his eyes with exasperation
when he felt her press up against his back and lean out to peer into the
courtyard. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the men in the
courtyard. There were half a dozen of them, all wearing Carbonnel colors.

Another
search party then, he thought with displeasure. It was the fifth in the few
days that they’d been at the inn. Two more had stopped in during Lucy’s
prolonged sleep. Wymon had obviously stepped up the search in this area.

William
had told him that they had seen none of Carbonnel’s men ere the day Tearlach
had ridden in with both he and Lucy wrapped in blankets. He supposed his attack
on the men where he’d got the blankets had given them away. He’d come upon them
before dawn, catching them sleeping. The fools hadn’t bothered to leave one of
their rank to stand guard and had been easy prey.