Every Heart Has Its Day (16 page)

She bade the men to join her at the table. “We canna give her vervain. What other choice do we have?”

Many silent moments passed before Euan cleared his throat. “Mayhap ye could give her but a little? If she has never tried it, ye canna know how it will affect her.”

Connor looked at Euan. “If she be yer wife, would ye be risk it?”

“Only if there be no other options.”

“We be not that desperate. The bath has lowered the fever for now.” Annie patted her husband’s hand. She turned to Connor. “What did Lady Cameron call the potion she used at Inverness?”

“Dragon’s Breath.”

Annie slapped her hand on the table. “That be what she mumbled.”

Connor shook his head. “Only Kasey knows the makings.”

“Her dorlach! Where be it?” Broderick asked.

“Still tied to my saddle.”

The emissary fled the hall.

A moment later, Ciara MacPherson walked through the door. She pointed behind her. “Who be that fool? He nearly knocked me off my feet, and he failed to apologize.”

Connor took a deep breath. He was in no mood to tolerate her games.

She smiled as she approached him. “Have ye finally come to yer senses, Laird Mackintosh, and asked for my hand?”

“I fear not.”

“Och. How long must we play this game? Ye need a wife. I want to marry a Mackintosh.” She pushed out her lower lip. “Do ye find me uncomely?”

“Ye be very easy on the eyes, Ciara, but ye value features more than aught else. I fear I fall short.”

“Ye jest, Connor. Mackintosh-MacPherson children would be works of art.”

“Since beauty be the only quality that matters to ye, I advise ye to wed yer looking glass.”

“I... Och! Ye conceited oaf! Ye arrogant swine!”

“It be aboot time ye see the true me.”

“I have seen the true ye for years, Mackintosh.”

Euan pulled his sister aside. “Let the man be. He loves another. Besides, the conceited oaf be much too old for ye.”

Connor glared at Euan. Though he appreciated his efforts to sway his sister, the laird had no need to repeat her insult.

“Why be ye here?” Ciara asked.

“My bride be sick with fever. I seek yer lady’s help.”

“Kasey? That lying bitch be in my holding?”

Connor raised a brow.

Euan placed himself in the middle, facing his sister. “Need I remind ye this be my holding, Ciara? Ye be but a guest here until we find ye a suitable match. Unfortunately, that may be a lifetime. I find no enemy so repulsive to thrust ye upon him.”

Tears streamed down Ciara’s face.

“What has Kasey done to earn yer hatred?” Connor asked.

“I believed her to be my friend. I confided in her. Yet she lied to me.” Ciara sobbed. “She denied ever meeting ye, yet the whore spent two days in that cottage with ye.”

“Ciara, she spoke the truth. Ye ken my family started calling me Hunter because I stalked her.” Connor paused. “From the first time I saw her, I wanted her, but I feared approaching her.”

“I be a hundredfold more beautiful than she.”

Connor shook his head. “Mayhap on the surface, but Kasey’s beauty goes far deeper. She would give her last morsel of food to the starving and her only cloak to the freezing. She risked her life to save me, an enemy, from certain death.”

“Ye love her out of gratitude?”

“Nay, Ciara. I loved her long before. My failure to accept that led to my attack as well as to Kasey’s suffering. I pray my lapse costs not Kasey her life.” Connor hung his head. “Dear God, please dinna let it be too late.”

“Someday, Ciara, ye will meet a man who will love you as no other. But if ye wish yer destiny fulfilled, ye must let go of yer infatuation with Connor and keep yer mind open.”

Ciara cried, “Ye dinna understand, Annie. I never could abide Connor. I feigned care only to appease my father.”

Euan raised a brow. “Another man has caught yer eye?”

She looked at Connor. “Yer brother.”

Gavin shook his head. “I already be wed.”

“Not ye.” Ciara wrinkled her face at him before she turned a softer gaze toward the window. “Dillon.”

“Dillon?” Annie lifted her brow.

“Aye. Be that hard to believe?”

“All those years ye pestered me?” Connor asked.

“Dinna ye see? Every time ye shooed me away, I sought out Dillon. I would have wed ye to please my father, but my heart will always belong to yer brother.”

Connor patted her arm. “Help us get Lady Kasey well, and I shall do what little I can to help ye attract my brother.”

“Please forgive the difficulties I have caused ye.” She rose on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

Annie blew out her breath. “Can we get back to our most urgent manner? I have cleaned and wrapped Kasey’s injuries—”

“Mask not the truth, Annie. Kasey had been flogged on countless occasions.” Connor’s stomach knotted. “Her back bears more colors than the Mackintosh plaid.”

Annie turned to Gavin. “Ye should have done aught afore the wounds became angry.”

Gavin’s shoulders sagged. “How can I tend what I dinna ken?”

“She dinna tell ye?” His sister turned to Connor, who also shook his head. “She must be verra strong to withstand such pain without complaint.”

“If she lives, will ye ask the king to set aside yer petition?” Gavin asked.

“She will live, and after she recovers we shall wed.”

“And the scars, brother? Ye do ye both grave injustice if ye wed her only out of obligation.”

“I understand yer concerns.” Connor noticed Euan’s confusion. “Warriors’ scars either remind them of ill-advised actions or a battle well fought and won. On a woman, they prove the man entrusted with her care failed in his duty.”

“Which applies to Lady Cameron?”

Connor frowned. “I bear the blame for her shoulder. Had I been more vigilant, Randall would not have come into range.”

“And her back, brother?”

“I share the blame. I be sure the lashes resulted from her tending me.” He should have sent her home with his father. At the very least, he should have retrieved her sooner.

“She falls into the second group.” Ciara chimed in. “Her clan dinna treat her as a lady, so that omits the third. I doubt she could avoid the whip, which omits the first. She be a warrior who fought to survive.”

Connor had little time to ponder Ciara’s words.

Dorlach in hand, Broderick,burst into the great hall. “Have ye searched this?”

Gavin nodded. “Considering she be on her way to marry Laird Grant—”

“What?” Everyone looked at Connor.

“Later. Go on, Gavin.”

“The dorlach contained two kirtles, two rails, a comb, soap, and some containers bearing odd writing.”

“Those be the answer to our prayers.” Broderick dumped the meager offerings on the table and handed each a jar, flask or pouch. “Look for an apostrophe.” He drew his dagger and sliced the bag’s lining.

Annie looked up from her vessel and sighed. “What good will come if we find the right one?”

“Kasey feared her laird would destroy all her potions and disguised them.”

“She used a code?” Connor’s rising hopes sank. “But how will we decipher it?”

“She became elated when I recognized Dragon’s Breath.”

Gavin said, “That makes no sense.”

“She worried she would forget. The apostrophe holds the key.” Broderick ripped out the satchel’s lining.

“Why do ye rend her dorlach?” Ciara asked.

“She recorded her learnings and then stitched them behind this lining.”

Gavin handed a pouch to Connor. “This could be it, but the marks be worn.”

Connor opened the pouch and inhaled. “Ye might have found it, Gavin, but it smells not as pungent as I remember.” He turned to Annie. “Could it weaken over time?”

His sister nodded.

Broderick shouted. He removed scrolls tied with a charm’s leather thong. He showed Connor the note for Dragon’s Breath. They compared the pouch to the sheaf, found they matched, and went to work decoding the writings.

“That be a beautiful necklace.” Ciara said.

Broderick studied it before he held it out to Annie. “Many believe this charmstone holds the power of life.”

Connor nodded. “Kasey wore it when she tended me.”

“I have heard tales of such talismans but had never put any faith into them.” Annie tied the thong behind her neck and tucked the amulet into the bodice of her kirtle. She furrowed her brow. “I may have been mistaken. The stone chilled my hand, but warms agin my heart.”

“Milady!” All eyes turned toward Maggie.

Chapter Sixteen

Connor snatched the pouch of Dragon’s Breath and flew abovestairs. At Kasey’s doorway his heart lurched. Save her flushed cheek, the side of her face would have blended into the linens. Her lips fluttered like a moth’s wings.

He kissed her burning brow. “Kasey?”

She moaned.

He knelt and thrust the pouch under her belly. As his fever had thinned the gluey potion, hers would do the same. He stroked her hair. “Open yer eyes, Kasey.”

“Be she awake?” Annie panted from the doorway.

Connor shrugged before he turned back to the woman of his heart. “The Dragon’s Breath ye used on me, be it too weak to use on ye?”

“Make fresh.” Her voice crackled like autumn leaves.

“Ye canna wait another day. Will the old potion do ye harm?”

Kasey shook her head.

He looked over his shoulder. The fear etched in Maggie’s and Annie’s eyes, along with Kasey’s stilted answers, convinced him. “Use the dregs.”

While Maggie retrieved hot water and clean rags, Annie applied the remedy.

Connor offered loving words and tender caresses to ease her discomfort. “Annie will be done soon, and then all will be well.”

A tear slid down Kasey’s nose. “No burn. Too old.”

Annie’s shoulders slumped. She wiped away the potion, and then buried Kasey under the blankets. She put a measure of powder in a goblet of water and handed it to Maggie. “Whenever she rouses, let her drink this.”

“Vervain?” Connor asked.

Annie shook her head. “Coltsfoot. This herb works not as well as vervain, but it may buy us time.”

“Thank ye, sister.”

“I shall make Dragon’s Breath posthaste. Get some rest, Connor.”

“I have never slept through a battle, and I shall not do so now.”

“Ye can do naught now. When the potion be ready, we may need ye to hold her fast.”

“If I tire, I shall rest on the rushes. Waste no more time arguing. Ye hold my bride’s life in yer hands.”

After Annie left, Connor took hold of Kasey’s hand. No crime, not even tending an enemy, deserved the brutal treatment she endured. He understood the need for fealty, but when one of his clansmen broke his oath, he considered the reasons. Traitorous intent earned exile. Just cause garnered a lecture.

Connor never had, nor ever would, order a person beaten. The only exception could very well be Douglas Cameron. If he could hold that pig in his grasp, he would be inclined to give him an eye for an eye. Nay, lashing would not suffice. He would make the Cameron suffer as long and as often as Kasey had.

Kasey’s teeth chattered. Her body quaked. She kicked at the covers.

He raised her head and tried to get her to drink, but more sloshed onto the pallet than past her lips.

He laid her head down, then stripped off his tunic and trews. Careful not to touch her back or injured shoulder, he rolled her onto her side and climbed onto the pallet. He pulled her belly to his and tossed his plaid over them. This night he would share his body heat with her as she had done years before.

He caressed her cheek, then lifted her head onto his shoulder. Her damp, heated softness teased his naked flesh. He tried to ignore the tip of his manhood pressed between her thighs.

His body paid no heed. He cursed the animal within and gazed at the far wall. She flattened her palms on his chest and pushed.

He placed his hand atop hers. “Hush, Kasey. Let me warm ye.”

She rolled away, whimpered, and rolled back. She shoved him again. “Ye dinna belong here.”

“Save yer strength to battle the fever.”

Tears rolled down her face.

“Be ye in pain?”

“I canna find him.”

“Who?”

“Hunter. He said I belonged by his side.”

Connor pulled her tighter. “Ye do, love.”

“He dinna keep his word.”

“I shall.”

“I need him.” She kicked his shin. “Leave me be. Hunter willna come with ye here.”

“I be Hunter. I have forsaken ye not.” She did not respond. “Kasey?”

He doubted she grasped his confession, but she would. Very soon. He had so much to answer for. Would she ever forgive him? As the demons of remorse rode his back, slumber claimed him, too.

A tap on the door roused Connor. He disentangled his limbs, rose, and pulled on his trews. He picked up his tunic.

Broderick entered the room unbidden. His gaze hardened as he focused on Connor’s bare trunk.

In no mood for a quarrel, Connor headed toward the door. When he came within range, Broderick’s fist met his jaw.

Connor reeled, but saw the next punch coming. He grabbed the emissary’s hand, shoved him into the corridor, then freed him. “Dinna attempt such foolishness again, old man.”

His warning fell on deaf ears. He ducked the next strike.

The force behind the jab caused the older man to lose his balance and fall to the floor.

Connor offered him a hand. Instead he had to sidestep Broderick’s kick. His patience neared its end. The rage on Broderick’s face told him the man would not be reasonable. Connor turned and walked down the corridor.

Quick, heavy footsteps drew nearer. At the right moment, Connor stopped and stuck out his foot.

Broderick flew a short distance before he thudded to the stone floor.

Conner walked over and sat on the prone man’s back. He applied just enough weight to pin him. “What troubles ye, mon?”

“I thought ye a man of honor, worthy of Lady Cameron.”

“Ye have had a change of heart?”

“Ye think a shared goblet of wine matches a priest’s blessing? The lady lies on her deathbed, and ye act like a rutting stag.”

“Ye assume much.” He could not ignore the anger in Broderick’s blue eyes. He studied the older man’s face. It could not be, could it? But that would explain Broderick’s propriety toward Lady Cameron. He shook his head. He had no time for daft notions. “Had ye asked, I would have told ye every cover in the keep dinna stem the lady’s shivers. We both ken the body be the best source of heat. I assure ye, her maidenhead remains intact.”

“Be ye comfortable, Laird Mackintosh?”

Discomfited, Connor rose and bowed to his king. Again he offered his hand to Broderick, who growled and rose without aid.

He shrugged and turned back to his liege. “My apologies, sire. Broderick and I be having a slight disagreement.”

“I would hate to witness a full blown argument betwixt ye. Clear the way, lads, I wish to see the lady.”

Connor raised a brow. The shape and hue of the king’s eyes matched Kasey’s, too. “Yer majesty, the lady rests. Please consider a delay.”

“Her condition begs immediate answers.”

“This way, my liege.” Broderick glared at Connor as he led the king to Kasey’s chamber. “If I may, yer majesty, how did ye arrive so soon? Yer guard could not have reached Inverness yet.”

“I tired of waiting. After I dispatched ye to the Cameron’s, I decided to take matters into my own hands,” the king turned to Connor, “as have others. Since Laird Mackintosh be not at his keep, his destination be no mystery. On my way to the Cameron holding, my contingent diverted me here.”

“May I attend yer interview, sire?” Kasey would not deny her king the truths Connor sought.

The king nodded and warned, “Ye will not utter a word, laird, or I shall have ye removed.”

“Agreed. I have but one request, sire.” At the king’s nod Connor continued, “Please dinna tell her I be Hunter. She believes a stranger holds her for ransom.”

“I never thought ye a fool, Connor, but I may reconsider. Ye finally have yer jewel in hand. For what purpose do ye deceive her?”

Connor hung his head. “I fear she will blame me for all she has endured.”

“Do ye wish to have the betrothal set aside, laird?”

“Nay!”

“Ye have until the day after her fever breaks to right yer wrongs.”

Connor nodded, then followed the king and Broderick into Kasey’s chamber. She lay on her belly, her head turned to the left. Connor and Broderick veered to the right. The king pulled over a chair and sat before her. “Lady Cameron?”

Kasey blinked several times. She must be dreaming. She grinned at the absurdity of the king’s presence.

“I be sorry to rouse ye.”

She tried to push her body up, but her uninjured arm would not support her. “Please forgive me, sire. I canna seem to rise.”

“A simple nod will suffice.”

“My liege.” Kasey nodded. “Be ye here to take me to prison? Or to cut off my hand?”

“What say ye?”

She muttered about his accusation and the special tax. Several times over she swore her innocence.

“I have leveled no accusation agin ye. In time, ye will learn the truth of the levy.” His patted her hand. “Do ye ken the cause of yer ague?”

Kasey swallowed. Her throat felt as dry as a dammed river. She feared her laird’s consequences should he discover she had been disloyal—again. “Shall I soon return to my clan?”

Someone grunted behind her back, but she had not the strength to turn her head.

“Has no one told ye, milady?” He glared past her. “I have granted yer betrothal.”

“The delay must displease Laird Grant.” She wondered if death by fever would be more merciful than the Grant’s means.

“How does this concern Alain Grant?”

Though the king handled more important matters than her betrothal, he should at least remember to whom he pledged her.

“My commander as well as Laird MacPherson have informed me of your circumstances. I must know who has beaten ye, milady. If ye fear repercussions, understand that ye remain under my protection.”

Had he not made the same claim before she left Inverness? Still, she must answer him. “Randall.”

“For what crime?”

“Crimes.” She dragged herself to the edge of the pallet and reached for the goblet on the trunk. The bitter water slaked her thirst. “My memory fogs, but I think the first came after I tended a lad who had also suffered the whip.”

“And the freshest?”

“Like each afore, a lashing followed your emissary’s visit.”

The king’s neck reddened. “By whose order?”

She had said too much already. If Laird Grant bade the king to set aside the betrothal, she would be returned to the Cameron den. She had no doubt the laird would strike her down just as he had her mother.

“Answer me!”

“Laird Cameron, but I believe he feared the whip. His hands shook aneath the table. His breath grew ragged. His forehead beaded with sweat.”

“Hell’s demons!” Anger flashed in the king’s eyes.

“Have I misspoken?”

“Nay, Kasey.” His expression softened as he rose. “I keep ye too long from yer rest.”

She yawned. “Sire, if I may, I have a question.”

“Aye?”

“I have heard naught of Hunter. Did he live?”

The king glared past her. “Thus far.”

Connor led the others from Kasey’s chamber. He leaned his forehead against the corridor’s cool wall. In her innocence, Kasey did not understand the beatings had given her laird perverted pleasure. She had recalled with such clarity the signs of a man at his completion. Signs that she should not yet have witnessed.

“Ye looked exhausted, Connor. Get some rest. I shall stay with Kasey.”

“Guilt gnaws away at ye, too, Broderick?” He did not wait for an answer before he walked into Kasey’s chamber and shut the door.

He slumped onto the seat the king had used and stared at the shell of the woman he loved. He doubted he would ever learn all she had endured, but he could understand why she had changed.

Though he had always marveled at her strength and determination, he had no idea her wells ran so deep. Should her supplies run dry, his love would sustain them through any hardships they may meet. For the first time since she had taken ill, he had absolute faith she would recover, both body and mind.

He would begin by revealing his identity. He had no doubt, after a shave and a haircut, one look into his eyes would convince her Hunter had returned.

She could be as furious as she wished over his deception, for her anger would burn away her bitterness and begin healing her spirit. He might have to work to regain her trust, but she could not hold a grudge for long. He would prove himself worthy of her hand and her love. Aye, Kasey would live, and he would do whatever necessary to restore her to the woman she had been.

“Laird Mackintosh? Laird MacPherson wishes to see ye in the great hall.”

“I canna leave Kasey’s side, Maggie.”

“In all these years ye have changed not. After the lady gets well, I shall take her aside and tell her how to deal with ye.” Maggie crossed the room, pinched Connor’s earlobe, and pulled him to his feet.