The Brightest Star in the Highlands: Jennie and Aedan (Clan Grant Series Book 7) (4 page)

BOOK: The Brightest Star in the Highlands: Jennie and Aedan (Clan Grant Series Book 7)
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Embarrassed to have such thoughts over a sick man, she convinced herself they were old feelings—a memory of how she’d reacted to him years ago. He had stayed in her memory, but she had been young and not able to recognize her feelings for what they were.

Lust. Pure and simple. It was a new sensation for her. Alex still protected her from any lad’s attention, refusing to consent to anyone courting her even though she was now ten and seven summers. He was blind to her needs, blind to the woman she had become. She was forced to rely on the tales of the servants and the maids to learn about the ways of men and women. Even though she delivered bairns, Alex still worried about her tender sensibilities.

No one was good enough for Laird Alexander Grant’s sister. He had driven away every possible suitor. Robbie had confessed there had been a few over the years, some even the sons of chieftains. Jennie never set eyes on any of them.

She had never been kissed, never held a lad’s hand, never felt the caress of a touch delivered by someone other than family.

While she hadn’t wanted to come here with Lady Cameron, she knew she had made the right choice. She would do everything in her power to see this man healed.

She owed Aedan Cameron for hitting him in the arse with her arrow many moons ago. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she dreamed of how Aedan’s hands would feel against her skin.

 

Chapter Four

 

Dead. The inevitable had finally happened, and he was dead. It was the only reason Aedan could come up with for why the fair lass who had struck him in the arse back in Lothian now sat asleep not far from his bed. He attempted to move, but quickly changed his mind when pain from his side rippled through his body.

But he didn’t yell. He would not disturb the lass.

He had thought it a dream at first. She cared for him with an efficiency and tenderness that warmed his soul, washing the dirt and filth of the battle from him and replacing it with a serenity he had never before experienced. He liked having her by his side and felt content as he watched her complete her soothing ministrations. Aye, the Grant lass he had seen in Lothian affected him like no other. But this was no dream. She was here in the same chamber with him.

He must be in heaven, except the pain in his side told him otherwise. There should be no pain in heaven. His head fell back down on the pillow after he attempted to rise again, to no avail. In his weakened state, he would have to be content with watching her.

He wished she was awake so he could see the color of her eyes. If he remembered correctly, they were a rich sable brown. Her hair matched her eyes, and a dash of freckles ran across the bridge of her nose. He grinned, thinking he could almost count the freckles in the dim light of the tallow on the bed next to him. A new goal in life budged its way to the forefront—counting her freckles.

His eyes felt heavy, but he fought to stay awake, too afraid that the next time he awakened she would be gone without them ever sharing a thought, a caress, anything at all. He fought hard, but lost the battle, visions of freckles and deep brown eyes dancing in his dreams.

***

When Jennie awakened, the first thought that crossed her mind was that it was past dawn. She sat up straight, thinking about the implications of the time of day. It was early morn and she had slept through the night without any bad dreams of wailing warriors. While she had escaped the nightmares for a few nights at the abbey, her fear had been that once she healed again, the wailing would return, but it hadn’t.

Jennie heard the door bang open, and she jumped out of her chair, brushing loose strands of her hair away from her face as she cleared her mind of sleep, attempting to recall the events of the previous evening.

Three grinning men stood in front of her, but while one of them seemed familiar, she did not recognize the others. Had the familiar one been with Cameron in Lothian? She jerked her attention back to her patient, surprised to see he was looking at her with a smile on his face.

His mother came in behind the lads and stopped abruptly. “Aedan? Saints above, you are awake?” She rushed to his bedside and sat, clasping his hands in hers. “You are better?”

“Aye, while I’ll not say fine yet, I am greatly improved.” Finally able to lift his head, he glanced over his mother’s shoulder to look at Jennie in her plaid. “Who must I thank for this? At least I no longer lie in my own filth, I see. The stickiness of my own blood was quite…repelling, shall I say?”

Lady Cameron stood and whirled to face Jennie. “Praise God above, you are a better healer than any I have met. You have saved my son’s life.” Tears misted in her eyes. “I am eternally indebted to you, my lady.”

“My lady? Who is this? I should be introduced to my savior, Mother.” His eyebrow quirked as he awaited an introduction.

“Aedan, this is Lady Jennie Grant. She was staying at the abbey and I rushed over to seek her assistance. Look what she has done for you.” She cupped Jennie’s face in her hands and kissed her cheek. “Many thanks, my dear. How shall I ever repay you?”

Jennie cleared her throat. “I am a healer. No payment is expected or necessary.” Jennie couldn’t stop herself from looking over Lady Cameron’s shoulder to the man resting in the bed. Had he recognized her? Did he remember her from their time in Lothian? Did he recall how poor her skills were with a bow and arrow? Unfortunately, his face gave no clues to his thoughts.

Lady Cameron dropped her hands from Jennie’s face to grab her skirts and then headed for the door. “I’ll have some food sent up for you.”

“My chamber, my lady?” Jennie whispered, anxious to escape the lewd looks of Aedan’s friends. She could feel the blush cross her cheeks in response to their perusal.

“Aye, of course. You’ll be in the next chamber down the passageway. I’ll escort you once I have attended to the kitchens.”

The door closed and Jennie was left in the room with four lads.

“Och, Aedan. You do recognize her, do you not?” The familiar lad grinned as he tipped his head toward her. “I’m certain ‘tis the lass who hit you with the arrow all those years ago.”

Jennie blushed, but she held her chin high.

With a grin, Aedan said, “Aye, Drew. I believe you have the right of it.”

Jennie glanced at Aedan, trying to ignore his good looks. “Am I foolish to expect an introduction to your acquaintances?”

“Forgive me, my lady. This is Drew Menzie, Dermid MacLean, and Hamish Henderson. Their lands border mine.”

Jennie’s gaze traveled from one to the next. “And your mother tells me your injury is from a battle? What battle were you in?”

Aedan tried to speak with his head upright, but gave up and rested it back on his pillow, his strength far from normal. “Our clan has been attacked by unknowns.”

Jennie continued her query, anxious to learn as much as she possible. “Has this been happening frequently? We have had similar occurrences, but we know not who leads the invaders. Who is responsible here?”

Drew’s smile turned to a frown. “We do not know. They attack a different place each night. We know not where they will go next. Can you tell us aught about them? Are you not part of the famous Grant clan?”

“Aye, I am a Grant, and my brother is the laird. While we have not been attacked as of yet, our neighbors have been. They tell us the same tale. No one recognizes the attackers. They come, fight, and then disappear. We are not far from here. I suspect the invaders are all from one clan.”

“Except they do not wear their plaid, so no one knows who they are,” Drew added, his gaze drifting from her head to her toes. “I am more interested in you, at the moment. Do you have a husband?”

She peered into eyes that held a gleam that made her uncomfortable. “Nay.” She frowned, wondering why he would ask her such a thing.

“You are at the abbey? Are you considering taking your vows?”

Shocked by the suggestion, she shook her head. “Nay, I am there because I can no longer face the senseless violence of the battles with those unknown attackers, nor can I handle the persistent line of Grant warriors who are wounded and require care.”

Drew raised his eyebrows as he looked back and forth between Jennie and Aedan, pursing his lips to send a message to his friend.

The door opened and Lady Cameron strode in. “Porridge is on its way, along with bread and cheese for you all.”

Jennie said, “Thank you kindly, but he should have naught more than broth this morn.”

“I think I can determine what’s best for me to eat, lass,” Aedan said. “I do not need another mother.”

Hamish and Dermid both gave a bark of laughter.

“Nay, I do not expect you do, Chief Cameron,” Jennie whispered. She stared into his dancing eyes, almost able to see the sparks shooting from them. Finally turning to Morag, she said, “My chamber, my lady?”

Jennie swept her skirts up in her hands and headed out the door. As soon as the door closed behind her, she heard an outbreak of questions aimed at Aedan. Her blush covered her face and traveled down her neck, the heat washing through her at some of their comments.

As if reading her mind, Lady Cameron said sheepishly, “My apologies. I should have awakened you, but I did not wish to disturb your peaceful sleep. I will speak to the men and remind them of their honor.”

Aye, she had fallen asleep in his chamber and spent the night alone with him. Even though he was gravely ill, it would basically tear her reputation to shreds.

She hoped it would be a while before word got to Alex.

***

Aedan rolled onto his back, gasping as pain gripped him. His three friends continued to have their fun at Jennie Grant’s expense, and for the first time in his life, he noticed how immature they sounded. He waited for them to notice he no longer partook in their joking.

Hamish said, “Cameron, you do not find this situation amusing?”

Aedan gripped the linen in his hand as he waited for the sharp pain to subside. “Nay, I do not, Hamish. And if any of you speak about finding the lass in my room this morn, I will personally make sure you regret it.”

“Och, Cameron. Have some fun. She was here all night, was she not?” Drew asked.

“Nay, she was dragged in here in the middle of the night when I was near death. I could not lift my head from the pillow. The first time I laid eyes on her was mere moments before you walked into the room. The last thing I remember is my mother telling me she was going after her.” He clutched at his clothing, finally realizing he was not doing as well as he had thought. Sweat collected on his brow. He would have a difficult time leaving his bed in his present state.

“If she did tend you, she does not deserve to be ridiculed.” Dermid hung his head. “What happened?”

“I took a blade through the side of my abdomen a few days ago.” He lifted the linen to show off his bloodied linen strips. “Seems the poison set in.” He gazed intently at each of them, then said, “You will pledge not to repeat what you saw.”

With a bit of mumbling, they finally acquiesced.

“Now, what can you tell me of the attacks? I have been out of this for some time. Have the attackers returned?”

Dermid nodded, “Aye, they seem to be everywhere. We lost two of my guards, and Hamish’s father lost three of his.”

“Does anyone recognize them?”

“We still know nothing about who they are or where they came from.” All three exchanged glances and shrugged their shoulders.

“Drew, send some trackers out. We need to settle this once and for all.” His head fell back on the pillow as pain gripped his side again. “See to it, would you?” His words hissed through clenched teeth.

Drew paled and nodded. “Sorry, Cameron. We’ll leave you be.”

***

A few days later, Jennie wandered through the winding paths in the herb gardens at the back of the abbey, gazing up at the turning leaves of autumn, a brisk wind in her face. Her mind wished to ponder Aedan Cameron, but she forced herself instead to think about her life and where she belonged.

Could she have made a mistake? Maybe she
was
intended to be a healer. She had enjoyed a certain amount of satisfaction from helping the Cameron, from seeing the happiness on his mother’s face this morning. It had made her hard work worthwhile, hadn’t it?

Aye, in a way, it had. She did enjoy healing people, especially members of her clan. But the screaming of wounded Grant warriors echoed in her mind. The present clash in the Highlands had drained her. All the blood, all the tragedy had sapped her ability to enjoy what she did. She didn’t want to continue. Though pleased to see that the occurrence of her bad dreams had ebbed, she feared they would return as soon as she healed another wounded warrior, fresh from the fields. The abbess strode out to stand at her side, causing her to jump. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard the other woman’s approach.

“Good morn to you, Lady Jennie.” Abbess Margaret wrapped her shawl tight around her against the wind.

Her voice was just a whisper, but it was a balm to her soul.

Jennie forced a smile, hoping she could avoid answering her true. “Aye, ’tis a lovely morn, Mother Margaret.” Her chin lifted and she gazed into the warmth of the abbess’s green eyes.

“Och, Jennie Grant. You mustn’t lie to me. ’Tis no need.”

Jennie blushed, hanging her head at being caught at her trickery. How had she guessed?

“You are lost, my child. Are you not?”

Jennie nodded, her eyes misting at how very appropriate that word was for her. Lost. So driven to be a healer for so many years, she had finally achieved that status. Now her entire being was in complete turmoil. She no longer knew who she was, what she should strive for next.

“Aye,” Jennie sighed, kneading her hands in front of her. “Lost is a fine word for my state of mind.”

“Allow me to describe what I see. Will you humor an old woman?” Her finger went under Jennie’s chin to lift her gaze to hers.

Jennie nodded, giving the abbess her complete attention. “As you wish, Mother Margaret. I would love to hear your thoughts and listen to any guidance you may have.”

“I see a young woman who has a remarkable talent, one so many strive—and fail—to gain. Yet you are not pleased with the talent you have been given, are you? I see someone who just saved the life of the Cameron, yet you struggle with where you belong.”

“Aye,” a bare whisper broke away from her lips. She opened her mouth to speak, but the abbess lifted a hand to stop her.

“Please allow me to finish.”

“My apologies, Abbess.”

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