Chapter Twenty-One
Breckin opened his eyes and moaned as he peered at the ceiling above.
He recalled being stabbed by Danella and seeing Eva there by the torch.
Little else remained in his memory. He tried to sense the pain, knowing it was there but he felt nothing.
Maybe he’d passed to the hereafter. Maybe he was gone from his world. If that was so, where was he?
“Och, so ye finally awaken?” Gideon’s voice came.
Breckin turned his head a little to see his comrade. “Thirsty.”
Gideon held a cup to his mouth. “Not too much for the nightshade still weighs heavily upon ye. ’Tis a miracle ye survived it.”
“Nightshade?
“Aye, ye were given a potion with nightshade in it. Do ye not remember what happened?”
Breckin pressed his hand over his face, hoping to alleviate the muddled sense that stayed with him. If he’d been given the poison, he suspected that was why he felt no pain. The dulling aura of the nightshade disallowed him to feel the discomfort. “I was injured and yet I feel no effects.”
“Aye, and fortunately for ye, she did not do too much damage. She struck your chest, just above your heart. A wee bit lower and ye would be at a glorious feast in the afterlife.” Gideon waggled his brows and smiled.
“Bollocks. There would be no celebration for me in the hereafter.”
Gideon chortled. “Mayhap not, but in the underground, ye would be most celebrated and welcomed.”
His comrade’s banter forced a scoff from him. “Eva?” Breckin tried to shift from the bed which he now knew to be in Willa’s healing cottage. “Is she…? Was Eva harmed? I recall her being there…”
His comrade pressed him back. “Ye are in no condition to go seeking your wife. Best lay back and let the awful potion wear off completely. Eva was harmed, och she is back at the longhouse, resting. Willa is tending to her with Clare’s aid.
I am afeared that her wound became infected and she is under the spell of a fever. At least that was as it was yestereve.”
“I need to see her.” Breckin’s voice rasped and he motioned for more drink.
Gideon appeased him and allowed him more than a few drops of water. “I was commanded to see to it that ye stay abed for now. Your legs will not support ye, Breckin, so do not argue with me. And I promise ye, I will not be carrying ye.”
His breath came heavier as he considered what happened between him and Danella.
He remembered receiving the missive from her asking to meet him by the torch.
She’d wanted to discuss his war on the MacLaren Clan and hoped to get him to abate.
When he refused to back down, she became agitated and spoke harshly.
Though now, he couldn’t recall what she’d said.
Her demeanor at the time, though, certainly alluded to the fact that she was the cause of the troubles then and now.
Breckin closed his eyes and tried to shut out the memories of that day and prayed that Eva survived. He refused to lose her and needed to get to her. But sleep weighed heavily upon him; he struggled but eventually it claimed him.
When he awakened from slumber, he peered into the darkened room.
Willa wasn’t there, and he could hear no sounds within.
His stomach grumbled with hunger and so he shifted his legs aside and sat on the edge of the cot.
With a press of his face, he decreased the rest of the grogginess that held him restrained.
He wondered briefly how long he’d lain there.
“Willa?” No response came.
He stood on his feet and was a little unsteady. Trudging through the cottage, he made it to the small kitchen area and found half a loaf of hardened bread. Nearby sat a pitcher of warm ale. He poured himself a helping, dunked the bread into it, and took a bite.
Breckin needed to regain some strength and once he filled his stomach, he felt much better.
Although his stomach twinged and he thought he’d lose the battle, he took slow breaths until he recovered.
He searched around for his garments but there was nothing wearable in the small cottage.
His tartan lay across the bottom of the cot and he reached for it.
He wrapped it around his body and grabbed his belt to secure it.
Once he was modest enough, he yanked the door open.
Darkness set the sky in a dismal aura of a brisk chill. Breckin ignored the cold and walked toward the bridge and crossed it. Aymer stood in the center of the lane on the other side.
“Laird, good to see ye about.”
“Aymer, all is well?”
His guardsman nodded. “Aye, Gideon went on sentry duty with a group of soldiers. He will not return until the morrow. Do ye need me for anything?”
“Aye, has Danella’s body been retrieved from the ravine?” Breckin wanted to get her off Buchanan land at the soonest.
“She has, Laird, and was wrapped and put in the cold shack until ye told us what to do with her. Should I have her returned to the MacLarens or the Stewarts?”
He took a brief moment to consider the ramifications of both situations.
If he sent her back to the Stewarts, William would probably come seeking answers for his wife’s death.
If he sent her back to the MacLarens, they were sure to take up arms against them.
The latter was preferable since he wanted to confront the MacLarens and end their scuffle.
War was inevitable with either of the clans, if not both.
“Await Gideon’s return and have him come see me. She will be returned after I speak with him.” Breckin nodded firmly to his comrade and set off down the lane toward the longhouse. The closer he got, the more he grew concerned for Eva.
At the door, he hesitated a moment, took a deep breath, and then entered. Inside, a fire crackled in the kitchen hearth. He found Clare pouring heated water into a bowl.
“How is she?”
His aunt glanced up but continued her task. “She sleeps. Her fever abated and the infection has lessened with Willa’s tender care. Eva shall live, Breckin. Worry not for her.”
Relief washed over him in a wave that would have brought him to his knees were he not a strong and stubborn warrior. “That is good news, Clare, and I thank ye for all ye did for her.”
“We Buchanans should be thanking her. For if she had not come to your aid, ye would be dead. She saved our laird and we are grateful.” Clare set the pot on the table. “We will ensure Eva knows how important she is to us.”
“Aye, she is that…most important, especially to me,” he said in a soft voice as emotion snuck into his retort.
Though he was a fierce warrior, he didn’t usually express such tender-hearted feelings, even to his aunt.
With that, he turned toward the bedchamber and entered.
Using a gentle hand, he closed the door, making no sound.
On the approach to the bed, his heart thrummed slowly, seeing his bonny wife lying so still and in such a wretched condition.
Breckin peered down at her. Eva’s face was pale and her bonny brown locks were in tangles.
He eased the bedcovering from over her shoulder and hissed at the sight of the stitched, unbound wound there.
Her skin was reddened, puffed, and looked sore.
The poor lass. What she’d done to save him, how she’d endangered herself, and what she’d endured, all pained him.
“Oh, lass, ye should not have put yourself in danger,” he muttered to her.
Eva’s eyes opened and she stared up at him. Then her lips spread in a slight smile and she reached toward him.
Breckin took her hand and held it tenderly. “Ye are awake.” He kissed her fingers.
“I worried for you. No one would tell me what befell you. They only said that you survived. I feared the worst, Breckin, but I am pleased to see you,” she said in a weak voice.
He grabbed the cup on the sidetable. It was half-full of water. He held it to her mouth. “Drink, lass, ye sound hoarse.”
She took the cup from him and downed the contents. When she finished, she handed the cup back to him. “Breckin… I am sorry.”
“For what, sweetheart? For saving me? Och, now ye are stuck with me. If it takes me the rest of my life, I will repay ye for it.” He let loose a small chuckle at his jest.
“No, for killing her, your betrothed. You cared for her, did you not? And I killed her.”
Breckin felt the pull of his brows as he heard her words. “Aye, she cannot hurt us again. Do not hold guilt because ye were protecting yourself.”
“You are not angry with me? I tried to get her away from you after she stabbed you and I realized that you were under some spell. We struggled and she stabbed me too. She lost her footing and I tried to keep her from going over the edge but I fell back and she disappeared. She was your betrothed and intended to be your wife, yet I…”
He drew in a deep sigh because Eva misunderstood. “Eva, of course, I am not angry with ye. Aye, she was my betrothed at one time, but I never professed to care for her. Marriage was nothing but a means to strengthen the ties betwixt my clan and hers. Nothing more. I never loved her as I…”
“As you what?” Her grip on his hand tightened.
“As I love you.” Breckin grinned. “There, lass, ye heard that aright? I said that ‘I love ye’ and I mean it.” He sat back in surprise as tears rose to Eva’s eyes. “Nay, lass, do not weep—”
“I’m crying because you told me you love me, Breckin. And I love you too. More than you could ever know. When I thought you were dead, I—”