The Bride (25 page)

"I would also like to help you."

The tearful voice belonged to Elizabeth. She stood across the table, facing Jamie. The fair-haired woman still looked frightened, but determined, too, and when Jamie smiled at her, she gave a hesitant smile back. "Angus is my husband. I'll do whatever you tell me to do."

"I'm thankful for your help," Jamie told her. "Dampen this cloth and press it to your husband's brow," she directed.

Jamie pulled three stockings out of her pocket and slipped one of them over the wood slat Gavin had provided. Before she was finished, one of the soldiers had covered the second slat for her.

Her hands were shaking now, for the task she most dreaded couldn't be delayed any longer. It was time to straighten Angus's arm.

"In England, it has become fashionable to use a sleeping sponge to put a man to sleep, but I don't hold with that form of treatment," she rambled. "I pray Angus will sleep through this."

"Would he sleep better if you'd used the sponge?" a soldier asked.

"Oh, yes," Jamie answered. "But he might not wake up. Most don't. The disadvantage does outweigh the merit, don't you think?"

The soldiers immediately blurted out their agreement.

"Alec? You're going to have to do this for me. I don't have the strength," she said. "Gavin, I'll need long strips of linen ready to bind the slats together."

Jamie worked the third stocking over Angus's swollen hand, paused to cut five holes in the toe of the sock, then eased his fingers and thumb through the openings. Each time she touched his arm, she gave Angus a quick, worried glance to see if he'd awakened.

"Alec, take hold of his hand. Gavin, you hold his upper arm," she directed. "Pull, but ever so slowly please, until I can straighten the bone. Elizabeth, you must turn your back now. I don't want you watching this."

Jamie took a deep, settling breath, then murmured, "God, I do hate this part of my duties. Do it now."

It took three attempts before she was satisfied that the broken ends of the bone were in the correct position. She slid the first slat under the arm, then put the second on top. Her hands shook. Alec held the slats in place while Jamie wound the strips of linen around and around the wood. When she was finished, Angus's arm was firmly locked in place.

"There, the worst is finished," she said with a deep sigh of relief.

"But his chest, milady," the priest reminded her. He let out a loud, painful-sounding cough, then added, "It's got a gaping hole in it."

"It looks worse than it truly is," Jamie answered.

A collective sigh made her smile. When she requested additional light, she was almost blinded by the number of candles the soldiers held up for her.

Jamie asked for another goblet of warm water. She opened yet another one of her jars, sprinkled a fair amount of orange powder into the liquid, and then surprised the priest by handing it to him. "Drink this. It will cure your cough," she told him. "I can tell it pains you."

The priest was speechless. Her consideration astonished him. He took a fair gulp, then grimaced. "Drink every bit of it, Father," Jamie ordered.

Like a child, he balked for a minute, then did as she ordered.

Jamie turned her attention to Angus's chest injury. She worked well into the night. The wound was crusted with dirt and dried blood. Jamie was meticulous in her task, for she knew from past experience, and from her mother's instructions, the terrible damage a single fleck of dirt could do if left inside the wound. She didn't understand the reason behind this truth but believed it to be fact all the same. Since the wound was ragged, she used needle and thread to sew the edges together.

Alec had ordered a bed carried into the great hall. He knew Jamie would wish to have her patient nearby, and Angus's cottage was a good distance away.

Angus's wife hadn't spoken another word during the long night. She hadn't moved from her position across from Jamie and watched her every move.

Jamie barely paid her any attention. She'd been bent over the warrior for such a long time that when she finally straightened away from the table, pain rushed up her spine, startling a gasp out of her. She stumbled backwards. Before she could regain her balance, she felt at least a dozen hands on her back bracing her.

"Elizabeth, please help me bandage your husband's chest," she asked, thinking to include the worried-looking woman.

Elizabeth was eager to assist. As soon as the task was done, Alec carried his friend over to the bed. Jamie and Elizabeth followed behind.

"He'll be spitting mad with pain when he wakes up," Jamie predicted. "You're going to have a bear on your hands, Elizabeth."

"But he will wake up."

There was a smile in Elizabeth's voice. "Aye, he will wake up," Jamie confirmed.

She let Elizabeth tuck the covers around her husband's shoulders before she asked, "Where did Edith and Annie go?"

"Back to their cottage to sleep," Elizabeth answered. She brushed her hand across Angus's brow in a gentle, loving action that told how very much she cared for her husband. "I'm to wake them when Angus… when he dies."

Jamie gave Alec a perplexed look.

Father Murdock started snoring, drawing everyone's attention. The old priest was sprawled in a chair he'd pulled up next to the table. "Oh, dear," Jamie said. "I forgot to tell him the potion would make him sleepy."

"He can sleep there," Alec announced. He turned to Angus's wife and said, "Elizabeth, go and get some rest. Gavin and I will take turns sitting with your husband until you return."

From the crestfallen look on Elizabeth's face, Jamie could tell she didn't want to leave her husband. Yet she immediately nodded and started for the door. Jamie assumed that obedience to her laird overrode all other considerations.

"Alec, if you were ill, I certainly wouldn't leave your side. Why can't Elizabeth sleep here? She could rest in a chair or perhaps use one of the rooms above the stairs, don't you suppose?"

Elizabeth whirled around. "I would be most comfortable," she interjected.

Alec looked from one woman to the other, then nodded. "Go and gather your things," he said. "You'll sleep in one of the rooms upstairs, Elizabeth. You must remember your condition. Angus will be angry if he wakes up and finds you exhausted."

Elizabeth made a formal curtsy. "Thank you, milord," she said.

"Marcus? Take Elizabeth to her cottage to get her things," Alec called out.

Jamie stood next to the bed, watching Angus. Elizabeth walked over to her side, hesitated, then reached out to touch her hand. "I would thank you, mistress," she whispered.

"You won't have to wake Edith and Annie," Jamie replied.

Elizabeth smiled. "No, I won't have to wake them." She started to turn away, then changed her mind. "My son will carry his father's name when he arrives."

"When does this blessed event take place?" Jamie asked.

"In six months' time. And if it's a girl…"

"Yes?"

"I shall name her after you, milady."

Jamie would have laughed if she'd had the strength. She was so exhausted, though, she could only manage a smile. "Did you hear her promise, Alec? Elizabeth doesn't seem to think Jamie is a man's name. What think you of that."

Elizabeth smiled at Alec, received his nod, and then said, "Jamie? I thought your name was Jane, milady."

Alec laughed for his wife. Elizabeth squeezed Jamie's hand to let her know she was jesting, then left the hall with Marcus.

"Does that man ever smile?" Jamie asked Alec when they were once again alone.

"Who?"

"Marcus."

"Nay, he doesn't, Jamie."

"He dislikes me immensely."

"Aye, he does."

Jamie gave Alec a disgruntled look over his easy compliance, then mixed another potion that was known to chase fever away. She was walking back to the bed when she suddenly realized she hadn't looked at the lower half of

Angus's body to see if there were other injuries needing her attention.

She decided to let Alec do the looking while she kept her eyes closed.

"There aren't any other injuries," Alec announced after he'd done as Jamie asked.

Her relief was short-lived. When she opened her eyes, Alec was standing just a foot or so away, smiling down at her. "You're blushing, wife. Answer me this question," he commanded in a soft, teasing voice. "If there had been injury, what would you have done?"

"Repaired it if possible," Jamie answered. "And probably blushed all the while. You must remember, Alec, I'm a mere woman."

She waited for him to contradict her.

"Aye, you are that."

The way he was looking at her made her blush intensify. Whatever was the matter with him? He acted as though he wanted to say something more to her, yet couldn't make up his mind.

"Am I back to looking ugly, husband? I know I must look a mess."

"You were never ugly," Alec answered. He brushed a lock of her hair back over her shoulder. The tender action sent a shiver down her arms. "But you do look a mess."

She didn't know how to take that remark. He was smiling at her, so she guessed he hadn't just insulted her. Or had he? The man did have an odd sense of what was amusing.

The longer he continued to stare at her, the more nervous she became. "Here, make Angus drink this." She thrust the goblet into his hands.

"For the last several hours you've snapped out orders like a commander on a field of battle, Jamie. Now you act shy with me. What has caused this change?"

"You," Jamie replied. "You make me shy when you stare at me like that."

"'Tis good to know."

"No, it certainly is not good to know," Jamie muttered.

She snatched the goblet out of his hands, hurried over to Angus's side, and nagged her patient into drinking the full portion.

"I want you to wear my plaid," Alec said.

"What?"

"I want you to wear my colors, wife."

"Why?"

"Because you belong to me now," Alec patiently explained.

"I'll wear your plaid when my heart wants to belong to you, Kincaid, and not a minute sooner. What think you of that?"

"I could order you to—"

"But you won't."

Alec smiled. His gentle little wife was beginning to understand him, after all. But he was also learning just how her mind worked. The foolish woman didn't realize her heart had already softened toward him. Still, he wanted her to admit it. "Did you mean what you said to Elizabeth? Would you have stayed by my side if I'd been wounded?"

"Of course."

She didn't even look over her shoulder when she added, "You can rid yourself of that cocky smile, husband. Any wife would stay by her husband. It's her duty."

"And you would always do your duty."

"I would."

"I will give you two weeks to make up your mind, Jamie, but you will eventually wear my plaid."

While he watched Jamie, the truth nudged a rather contradictory admission from him. He actually wanted her to care for him. He wanted her to love him. He was, however, quite determined not to love her. His reason was simple: a warrior did not love his wife; he owned her. There was good reason for this, of course: love complicated a relationship. It could also undermine the duties of a laird. No, he could never love Jamie. But he'd be damned if she didn't start to love him soon. "Two weeks."

She didn't need that reminder. "You are very arrogant, husband."

"'Tis good of you to notice."

Alec left the hall before she could stifle her laughter enough to bait him again. His soldiers would be waiting in the courtyard and the bailey below, wishing to hear how their friend was doing. Several hundred men were keeping Angus's deathwatch. They wouldn't take to their pallets until they'd come inside to see their friend. It was their right, and Alec wouldn't deny them.

Angus was just waking up from his drug-induced sleep when Jamie was closing her eyes. She knelt on the floor, her feet tucked under the hem of her robe. Her long hair was spread like a blanket across her back. Angus groaned when he tried to move his throbbing arm. He wanted to rub the sting away, yet when he tried to move his other hand, he felt someone take hold of him.

He opened his eyes and immediately saw the woman. Her head rested next to his thigh. Her eyes were closed. He didn't know how he knew, but he was certain her eyes were violet, clear, enchanting violet.

Angus thought she was asleep, yet when he tried to pull his hand away from her grasp, she wouldn't let him.

The soldiers began to file into the hall then, drawing his attention. His friends were all smiling at him. Angus tried to return their greeting. He was in pain, aye, but their smiles told him he was not dying. Perhaps, he thought, the last rites he'd overheard were for someone else.

Alec, with Gavin at his side, stood near the entrance, waiting. Alec stared at his wife, but Gavin watched the men.

It was a magical moment, by Gavin's reckoning. The soldiers looked stunned by the sight they witnessed. One and all knew Lady Kincaid had saved their friend from certain death. Angus's weak smile confirmed the miracle.