Highland Warrior (20 page)

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Authors: Connie Mason

BOOK: Highland Warrior
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He gasped out a word. Stunned, Gillian strained closer, waiting for him to speak again, to repeat the name. His eyes closed and he gasped the name on a sigh. Though Gillian had heard the same name on his lips twice, she couldn’t credit it. And she didn’t dare repeat it until Ross awakened and confirmed what she’d heard.
A short time later, Gizela returned with the narcotic, and together they managed to dribble enough down Ross’s throat to put him into a deep sleep. Until he awoke again, there was nothing Gillian could do but wait.
Chapter Ten
 
Ross hovered between life and death while Gizela worked whatever magic she was capable of to keep him from crossing over into the world of perpetual darkness. The entire hall was in mourning, and prayers were being offered up daily for the laird’s recovery.
Gillian rarely stirred from Ross’s bedside. She slept little and ate even less. If she was aware of the animosity drifting up from the hall, she made no mention of it. Four days after the attack upon Ross, Gizela entered the chamber and ordered Gillian to eat and rest.
“I canna leave him, Gizela. What if he should die while I am gone? I need to be with him.”
“Ross willna die, lass,” Gizela said with confidence.
Gillian looked up, her eyes filled with hope for the first time in days. “Are you sure? He still hasna awakened.”
“Sleep is the best healer. The laird’s wound isna infected; I am confident he will survive.”
Gillian wished she could be as convinced as Gizela.
“Go, lass,” Gizela urged. “Eat something first. I will sit with the laird while you are gone. When you return, you can rest on the cot Alice has made up in the comer.”
“You will call me if there is a change in his condition?”
“Aye, I will send word if the laird awakens.”
Reluctantly Gillian left the chamber. As she descended the stairs to the hall, angry voices drifted up to her. She had no idea what the argument was about until she walked into the chamber. Absolute silence reigned as everyone turned to stare at her.
“The laird...” Gordo began, barely above a whisper.
“He lives,” Gillian said.
“No thanks to you,” Seana spat. “The laird lies near death because of you and your kinsmen. Everyone kens your part in the attack upon Ross.”
Lack of sleep had taken its toll upon Gillian, making her wonder if she had heard right. “What are you saying? How could you hold me responsible for something of which I had no knowledge? When Ross awakens, he will tell you the truth.”
“We know the truth,” an angry voice called out. Others in the hall voiced their agreement.
“You have betrayed the MacKennas,” Seana snarled. “The laird’s death rests upon your head.”
“Ross willna die!” Gillian cried. “Gizela has said so.”
“That old hag kens naught,” Seana scoffed. “Gillian should be sent back to Braebum, where she belongs. When Niall becomes laird, he will seek revenge for Ross’s death.”
“Why do you keep insisting that Ross will die?” Gillian demanded. “My husband is very much alive.”
“He hasna stirred in four days,” Niall reminded her. “Many believe our laird willna awaken.”
“ ’Tis true,” Seana affirmed. “The old witch who claims to possess healing powers canna be trusted. She is crazy in the head.”
“You can argue about this all you like,” Gillian replied, her voice rising. “But I refuse to believe Ross will die.”
“Leave the lass alone,” Gordo ordered. “She is distraught and worried about her husband.”
Nodding her thanks to Gordo, Gillian turned abruptly and headed for the kitchen, leaving the anger and dissention behind, though she could still hear Seana raging against her. What made Seana think she had harmed Ross? Why did Ross’s people believe it was her kinsmen who’d tried to kill him? She had to admit the unprovoked attack was mystifying, but she hoped the mystery would be resolved once Ross awakened. She didn’t for one moment believe her father capable of such treachery.
Hanna gave Gillian a narrow-eyed glance when Gillian entered the kitchen. “Do you ken what they are saying about you?”
“Do you believe what they are saying, Hanna? Your opinion means a great deal to me.”
“Did you conspire to harm our laird?”
“Nay, I didna; nor are my kinsmen responsible. Da wouldna break the truce in such a cowardly manner.”
Hanna searched Gillian’s face and nodded, obviously satisfied with her answer. “Alice swore you were innocent, but Seana has roused everyone’s anger to a fever pitch. She has Laird Ross already in his grave and Niall proclaimed the new laird. She insisted you werena satisfied in your marriage and wished the laird ill so you could wed Angus Sinclair.”
Gillian dropped into a chair, exhaustion etching her features. “I was nowhere near Ross when he was attacked. And I wouldna have Angus on a silver platter. They blame me unjustly”
“Seana said you sent a message to Braeburn, informing your clan about Laird Ross’s travel plans so they could attack him upon the road.”
“Did Seana produce the messenger or confirm that a message had been sent by me?”
“She said she’d spoken to the lad who carried the message to Braeburn. He was from the village, but Donald couldna find him when he went to investigate Seana’s claim.”
“Seana lies,” Gillian said tiredly. “I canna think about this now. I promised Gizela I would eat something before I returned to Ross’s bedside.”
“Then eat you shall,” Hanna said. “I made a tasty venison stew for the evening meal, and you can be the first to sample it.”
She filled a bowl with the savory concoction and placed it before Gillian with a slab of bread, thickly spread with butter. Gillian ate mechanically, tasting little of what went into her mouth. Her mind wandered back to the name Ross had spoken before falling unconscious. What did it mean? Had he given her the name of the man who had attacked him? Though her mind was whirling with possibilities, she had no right to point a finger without proof. No one but Ross could accuse his attacker.
Gillian finished her meal, thanked Hanna, and rose. “I must return to
Ross,” she
said.
“Doona let the rabble in the hall rattle you, lass,” Hanna advised. “Seana is a troublemaker. I pray Niall has the good sense not to listen to her.”
Her head held high, Gillian returned to the hall and headed for the staircase.
“There she is!” Seana cried, pointing a finger at Gillian. “Doona let her return to the laird’s bedside. Mayhap she and the old witch are planning to hasten Ross’s death.”
“How dare you!” Gillian gasped, whipping around. “You have no reason to accuse me or Gizela of treachery. The fact that Ross is alive is due to Gizela’s skill.”
“The MacKay lassie is right,” Gordo argued. “Say what you want about Gizela’s strange mumblings, but never accuse her of wishing my nephew harm.”
“Send the MacKay wench to Braeburn!” Seana shouted.
“Aye, return her to her father,” others chimed in.
“Seana, you are being too harsh,” Gordo protested. “We have no proof of Gillian’s guilt. Ross will tell us the truth of it when he awakens.”
“If
he awakens,” Seana charged. She turned to Niall. “As acting laird, you have the power to send Gillian away.”
“As long as Ross lives, I have no power to banish his wife,” Niall objected. “I have faith Ross will awaken soon and name his enemy.”
Niall didn’t see the look Seana sent him, but Gillian did. If looks could kill, Niall would be dead. Gillian shuddered and turned away. Protesting her innocence was a waste of time and energy. Only Ross knew the truth, and until he could speak, it would remain a mystery.
Ross was still unconscious when Gillian returned to his bedside. Gizela was bending over him, inspecting his wound. “Has it festered?” Gillian asked fearfully. “Is he feverish?”
“The wound is red and raw and he is a mite warm, but I doona think his fever will spike. You should rest. Alice put fresh linens on the cot while you supped.”
“Gizela, tell me true. Do Ross’s kinsmen hold me responsible for the attack upon him? Do they hold my clan responsible?”
“I didna want to tell you, for I knew it would upset you,” the old woman said.“ ’Tis the McHamish wench’s doing. Did I nae warn you about her? She had a scheme in mind when she handfasted with Niall.”
Curious, Gillian asked, “What scheme?”
Gizela’s eyes clouded over. “There will be difficult times, but the flame will prevail. Search for the proof, lass, for the truth will prevail.”
Gizela’s vague reply annoyed Gillian. “What does that mean?”
Gizela shuddered. “You must seek the truth.”
“I doona—”
“Get some rest, Gillian, lass. The difficult times I spoke of are near at hand.”
Sensing that she would get naught more from Gizela this night, Gillian cast one last glance at Ross and lay down on the cot. She fell asleep the moment she laid her head on the pillow.
 
Someone was shaking her. Gillian awoke to harsh voices and light stabbing against her eyelids. Immediately alert, she rose on her elbow and stared up at Alice. “What is it? Is Ross ...?”
“
Naught has changed with the laird,” Alice said
. “Gordo wishes to speak with you. He said ’tis urgent.”
Gillian rose shakily to her feet. She took several steps toward the bed before Gordo appeared in front of her.
“What is it, Gordo? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“My kinsmen want you gone. ’Tis none of my doing, Gillian; believe me. But I fear for your life if you doona leave now. Talk is getting ugly below. With no one else to blame, your kinsmen are the likely suspects. I want to keep you safe for Ross’s sake.”
“This is all Seana’s doing,” Gillian bit out. “If she hadna put ideas in people’s heads, no one would blame me for harming Ross. I am innocent, Gordo; I swear it.”
“I believe you, lass,” Gordo agreed. “But I am sending you away to keep you from harm. Your horse is saddled, and Hanna has prepared provisions for your journey. The weather is not too harsh yet; you should have no problem reaching Braeburn. We willna ken the truth until Ross can speak.”
“You’re forcing me to leave?” Gillian cried. “Nay, I need to be with Ross. No one can care for him as well as I can.”
“You will kill him,” Seana said from the doorway. “Leave now, while you are still able.”
“I willna let the laird die, mistress,” Gizela said from Ross’s bedside.
“And I will help care for him,” Alice promised.
Ross groaned and began to thrash. Gillian pushed Gordo aside and raced to his bedside. “Ross, can you hear me?”
Ross mumbled something indecipherable and stared blankly up at her. “He’s awake!” Gillian cried.
“Nay, lass, he sees naught,” Gizela assured her.
“Come away, Gillian.” Gordo said, easing her away from the bed. “You must leave before the threats against you are put into action. ’Tis for your own good.”
“Go, lassie,” Gizela urged. “Remember what I said, and do what must be done to find the proof.”
“What are you babbling about, Gizela?” Seana asked. “We’ve heard enough of your crazed muttering.”
“I’ll fetch your fur-lined cloak and the bag I packed for you, mistress,” Alice said as she went to the wardrobe for the items.
“You packed my bag?” Gillian asked, stunned.
“I had no choice. Gordo ordered it. You will need this,” Alice said as she handed Gillian her sword. Immediately Gillian strapped the sheath across her body so that the sword rested between her shoulder blades.
Then Alice placed the cloak around Gillian’s shoulders and thrust a purse into her hand. Inside were the coins Tearlach MacKay had given her for a wedding gift.
“I’ll carry the bag out for you and fetch the provisions for your journey from the kitchen.”
“I’m not leaving Ross,” Gillian insisted.
“I value your life, even if you doona,” Gordo said kindly.
“You have a strange way of showing it,” Gillian shot back.
“I but wish to protect you. I ken my nephew is inordinately fond of you.”
Gillian sent a pleading look toward Gizela. The healer’s eyes were downcast. She could expect no help from that quarter.
She tore her eyes away from the bed, where Ross now lay still as death, and slowly walked to the door. Abruptly she turned. “Take care of him, Gizela. Doona let Seana near him. She wishes him ill.”
“Nay, Gillian, you misjudge Seana,” Gordo said. “She is a MacKenna now.”
When Gillian glanced at Gizela, she read confirmation of Seana’s guilt in the healer’s rheumy eyes and knew Gizela would protect Ross.
 
Gillian paused and glanced over her shoulder as Ravenscraig’s gate closed firmly behind her. Briefly she wondered if she had been wise to decline Gordo’s offer to escort her to Braeburn. Then she felt her sword resting against her back and knew she would be all right.

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