Chapter Twelve
Megan awoke with a dreadful pain in her arm. She looked around the room she was in and didn’t recognize it. What happened? The last she remembered she and Gregory were on his horse and then he… Where was Gregory?
“Right here, lass.”
She turned to her right side and black dots appeared in her eyes and her arm screamed with pain.
“Easy, Megan. Doona move too much. We’re waiting for the healer to come.”
She took a few deep breaths to help calm herself. “What happened?”
“Ye were shot with an arrow in yer arm.” The look on his face was almost as painful as her arm.
Almost.
Megan closed her eyes. “The Gunn found us, then?”
“I doona think so, but I have my men out searching the area where ye were shot.”
She looked up at him where he sat alongside her on the bed. “Did we make it all the way to Castle Leod?”
Just then the door to the bedchamber opened and a woman of middle years hustled into the room, a basket over her arm.
She had a cheerful way about her, a plump body and a big smile.
“I am Mrs. Bridget Ross, the clan healer.” She moved over to the bed and looked at Megan with sympathy. “Are ye the poor lass who was shot?”
“Aye,” Gregory said.
Megan did not recognize the healer, but she thought Gregory had referred to the one at Castle Leod as Emma. While the woman searched through her basket, Megan looked over at Gregory. “Where are we?”
“Balnagown Castle. Ross lands.”
Her hopes that the dreadful trip was over were dashed. “Are we far from Castle Leod?”
“Not really. Normally a full day’s ride, but with yer injury we must take it slow. Most likely a day and half if we’re in luck.”
Mrs. Ross stepped up to the bed. “Sir, ye must leave now as I must undress the lass and take the arrow out.”
Megan reached out. “Nay! Gregory is my husband. I need him to stay.”
The woman glanced briefly at Megan’s hand, the one missing a wedding ring and shrugged. “If that is yer wish, lass, then that is fine with me.”
Megan let out a sigh of relief. The thought of Gregory leaving her while enduring whatever it was the healer had to do terrified her. She was in a strange place with a very painful injury.
Suddenly feeling very sorry for herself, tears filled her eyes. She turned her head the other way so Gregory wouldn’t see her fall apart.
As the woman undressed her, she thought about how her life, though not the wonderful one it could be had been, had been ripped out from under her.
Anthony had tried to force her to marry The Gunn, then when she climbed out the window, she was lucky she didn’t break her neck after which followed the race to avoid their pursuers.
And now this.
Despite her best efforts to hide her distress, Gregory kicked off his boots and climbed on the bed beside her non-injured side. Since they’d told the healer that they were married, she didn’t worry about what the woman thought.
He gently put his arm around on her shoulder, avoiding the arm the healer had started working on. “’Tis all right, sweeting, Ye can let go.”
That was all she needed to release all the pain, fear, and fatigue she’d suffered since Robert’s death. The tears would just not stop. Gregory rubbed her back and held her as she screamed when the healer pulled the arrow from her arm.
Another woman walked into the room. “Bridget. do ye need help?”
“Aye, I need ye to press the cloth over her injury while I sew her up.”
Megan rested her head on Gregory’s chest. It amazed her how comforting it was to have him hold her. She smiled, thinking how they keep telling people they were married and wondered that when Anthony caught up to them, if he would agree.
She closed her eyes and winced as the needle went in and out of her arm. “I think I’m going to empty my stomach.”
“Do ye think ye can hold out for a few more minutes? If not, I’ll get ye a chamber pot.”
*
Gregory had been sewed up a few times himself and hated that the woman under his care had been injured. He’d been so fascinated by Megan and distracted by the attraction he felt for her that he forgot himself and the fact that they were being tracked.
Once she was well enough to travel, they would head to Castle Leod as quickly as her bruised body could make it. She would never be allowed to leave the keep unless he had a guard with her.
As she twitched and tears ran down her face, he wished he’d thought about asking the healer for some whisky for her.
And for him too.
It seemed like forever, but finally the healer said, “I’m finished, lass. Ye can relax now.”
Megan closed her eyes and nodded. “Thank ye.” Her voice came out in a weak whisper.
Gregory meant to stand, but Megan grabbed his hand and sobbed. “Nay, doona leave me.”
He watched the healer as she began to pack up. “Is there something ye can give the lass for the pain?”
“I can have a tisane mixed for her. It will also help her to sleep, which is the body’s best way to heal itself.”
He looked down at her. “How is yer stomach, Megan?”
She wiped her eyes and looked up at him with such a pitiful expression on her face that he wanted to find the mon who’d shot her and run his sword through him.
“I feel a bit more settled.”
“I’m sure with the way I acted crossing the mountain pass and now falling apart on ye, ye must think me the silliest lass ye ever met.”
“Nay. Ye’ve been through a lot. Ye are a verra brave lass, and I’m anxious to get ye safely to Castle Leod so ye can rest and settle in.”
The bedchamber opened and a young lass entered. “The laird asks that I see if ye want food sent up here or will ye be joining them in the great hall.”
Gregory shook his head. “Nay, my wife is feeling quite unsettled, so if ye can bring food up for me and maybe some tea or broth for her that would be greatly appreciated.”
Before she left another lass appeared with a mug and approached Megan. “This is the tisane the healer sent up for ye.”
Gregory took the mug from the maid. “Thank ye. I will see that she drinks it, but I want her to have something in her stomach first.”
Both lasses left and Gregory smoothed the hair back from Megan’s forehead.
Her eyes were closed so he took the time to study her face.
The pain, fatigue and fear she’d suffered since Robert’s death was clearly on her face.
But she was still a beautiful woman and he felt no regret on informing everyone that she was his wife.
Something he had never thought he would have and although he’d arrived at Sinclair Castle Girnigoe with the full intention of doing his duty by marrying Robert’s widow, he had to admit to himself that he no longer felt as though having Megan Sinclair—now Mackenzie according to what they were telling everyone within hearing distance—for a wife was a duty.
He didn’t know where this marriage would go, since he was sure Megan still thought he only planned to marry her as a duty.
Again the bedchamber door opened and Lady Ross entered carrying a tray.
“My lady, ye dinna have to bring the food yerself,” Gregory said as he jumped from the bed to take the food from her.
She shook her head. “’Tis no problem, and I thought I should check and see how yer wife is doing.” Lady Ross looked down at Megan, who still had her eyes closed, and was at this point hopefully asleep.
“I understand there is quite a story behind yer arrival. I ken ye spoke briefly to my husband when ye first appeared with the lass in yer arms.”
Gregory set the tray down. “Aye. Once I get Megan to drink her tea and broth, I’ll give her the tisane yer healer sent.
Hopefully I will be able to spend whatever time ye and the laird can spare for me to tell ye what has happened.
’Tis my hope we have no’ been followed, but ye ken to be aware of a possible danger. ”
Lady Ross smiled at him. “Ye just take care of the lass, and when ye have a moment we will both be happy to speak with ye.”
With those words she took another look at a sleeping Megan and left the room.
He waited about fifteen minutes and then woke her up. “Here lass, ye need to take some broth, at least, and the tisane.”
She went to move and winced and cried out, apparently forgetting her injury. Gregory put his hand on her back and helped her up.
He hoped they hadn’t led trouble to the castle with their escape here.