Chapter 11
“What the hell fool thing d’ye think ye we’re doin’?” he demanded.
“I was cold, so I was going to get some blankets and tripped,” she told him, annoyed by the angry edge in his voice.
“In the dark? Ye didnae even have the sense tae light a candle before ye went wanderin’ about the place!”
“I willnae even dignify that with answer,” she huffed in annoyance, knowing he was right; she had been stupid. “Put me down, will ye?”
“I will nae! Ye’re goin’ straight tae see Alana,” he declared, heading for the doors of the keep. “Ye hit yer head, and ye need tae have it checked.”
“That’s rich comin’ from ye. Have ye seen the bump on yer own head? ’Tis the size of a chicken’s egg. ’Tis ye who needs checkin’ out,” she protested, wriggling in an attempt to get him to put her down.
“Wheesht, will ye, woman? I’m fine, ’tis just a wee bump. And ye can stop yer squirmin’, fer I’m nae letting’ ye down until Alana says yer all right.”
Maddison huffed angrily as the guards opened the keep doors and let them out into the night, but she ceased her struggles.
“Ye took the force of the fall, ye big dummart,” she insisted, frustrated with herself because she could not help worrying about the nasty knock to his head. “Ye could have a concussion. Maybe it’ll knock some sense intae ye.”
“Ye could have a concussion too,” he argued, striding rapidly through the grounds to the infirmary. “Me skull is harder than yers.”
“Ye can say that again!” she grumbled as they reached the cottage and Odhrán hammered on the door.
“All right, I’m comin’,” came Alana’s voice from inside. Bolts were drawn back inside, and the door opened. Alana, in her robe, peered out at them “Och, me laird, Maddy, what is it? Are ye hurt?” she asked, her face creased with concern as she ushered them inside.
“Will ye please put me down now?” Maddison asked Odhrán. He set her on her feet, and she smoothed her robe. “I’m perfectly all right, Alana. We fell down the stairs, and he insisted on makin’ a fuss and bringin’ me here. ’Tis him who has the big bump on his head.”
“She has a bump on her head too, and I’m nae taking’ any chances. I want her checked out.”
Maddison rolled her eyes. “See what I mean? I did bump me head, ’tis true, but nae so bad as him. Can ye see the lump on his forehead?” she asked Alana.
“Aye, I can,” the healer answered, looking dubiously at the large swelling. “I need tae look at that. Ye could have a concussion.”
“All right, but will ye check Maddison out first?”
“Of course. Let me see, Maddy. Come over by the lamp.” Maddison obediently followed her and stood patiently while Alana gently probed the bump on her head.
“It hardly even hurts anymore,” Maddison told her, glaring at Odhrán.
“Hmm, ’tis nae too bad. There’s nae blood. I reckon a cold compress should help.” She went and fetched some wadding, which she steeped in cold water before returning to Maddison and pressing it to the bump. “Now, hold that there and have a seat while I check the laird over.”
“Thank ye, Alana, that feels better already,” Maddison said, going to sit down, ready to hear the result of the healer’s examination of Odhrán. Alana pulled out another chair and gestured to Odhrán to sit down.
“Yell have tae sit down, me laird. I cannae reach ye while yer standin’ up,” she said.
“There’s nae need,” he remonstrated. “’Tis barely a scratch.”
“Ye’d best dae as Alana says,” Maddison put in, since there’s blood runnin’ down yer face.”
“Is there?” he asked, raising a hand to his head and looking surprised when it came back bloody.
“Aye, so I think I’d best take a look,” the healer said firmly. With a heavy sigh, Odhrán sat down, making the chair creak perilously.
“Now we’ll see who has the concussion,” he muttered, folding his arms and returning Maddison’s glare.
While Alana examined the lump on his forehead carefully and swabbed away the blood, Maddison found herself looking at her husband closely. As if they had a mind of her own, her eyes strayed over his tall frame and his long muscular legs as they stretched out in front of him. His powerful arms, packed with muscle, gripped the arms of the chair, and when she observed his face, she could not help thinking how ruggedly handsome he looked with his dark locks falling over his shoulders. A strange warm feeling stirred in her belly as the memory of their kiss popped into her head. She shook it away.
Stop it! What are ye doin’, ye fool?! First, ye’re worryin’ about his head, and then ye cannae keep yer eyes off him. Ye’re lettin’ him get under yer skin. It willnae dae!
“Well, I’m sorry tae say, me laird, that ye could well have a concussion. That is a nasty gash, all right. I’m gonnae put some salve on it tae reduce the swellin’, and I’ll place a wee bandage over it tae keep it clean. I’ll give ye some salve tae take with ye, and a tonic tae drink too, tae help strengthen ye and help keep ye awake.” She turned to Maddison. “Ye’ll need tae make sure ye keep him awake as long as ye can, and give him the tonic frequently before he sleeps.
“A bandage? Ach, that’s all I need. That’ll impress the council,” Odhrán complained bitterly.
“That as may be,” Maddison told him, unable to stop grinning. “’Tis better than getting’ an infection.”
“Ach, ye’re enjoyin’ every minute of this, are ye nae?” he said, getting up. Alana and Maddison exchanged a look behind his back.
“He’s just grumpy because he hates me bein’ right, after he dragged me here fer nae good reason,” Maddison explained.
“I told ye, I’m nae takin’ any chances,” Odhrán stubbornly insisted.
“Well, Maddy, ye ken the laird meant well, even if he acted a bit like an overbearin’ faither,” Alana joked as she packed up the tonic and salve in a cloth bag for Maddison to take away. Odhrán huffed in disgust.
“That’s one way of describin’ it, I suppose,” Maddison said, taking the bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “Thank ye for everythin’, Alana. Ye can get some sleep now, and I’ll see ye tomorrow.”
They bid each other goodnight, and Maddison and Odhrán went out into the darkness together once again.
“Can ye walk slower, please,” she asked, “ye’re makin’ me run tae keep up with ye.”
“Sorry,” he muttered and wobbled a little on his feet. Alarmed, Maddison caught his arm. “Och, I went a wee bit dizzy then,” he added, regaining his balance.
“Lean against me,” she told him, putting her arm around his waist and supporting his large frame as best she could. He put his arm around her shoulders as they went forward more slowly.
“I dinnae want tae put all me weight on ye,” he said, but he did not remove his arm.
“I’m stronger than ye think,” she assured him, feeling a strange warmth in the region of her heart that had nothing to do with the heat coming through his clothing. As they came up to the keep doors and the guards opened them and stood aside for them to enter, Maddison tried to suppress the warm sensation blossoming in her chest. But it refused to be squashed.
She helped Odhrán up the stairs, fighting back the unpleasant but inescapable truth: Odhrán, with all his fussing over her injury and all the small gestures he was making to placate her, was slowly but surely melting the wall of ice she had built around her heart to keep him out. How much longer it would last, she had no idea, and it disturbed her deeply.
“Ye’d best get intae the bed,” she told him when they arrived at their chambers. “Ye can hardly lie on the floor in this state.” She was still supporting him and carefully slid the bag Alana had given her from her shoulder to the floor.
“There’s nae need. I told ye, I’m all right,” he insisted, heading for the chair by the hearth. But she still had hold of his waist, and she tutted as she steered him away from it and pushed him onto the bed. He did not protest further as she pulled off his boots and gestured for him to lay down. She even found herself plumping the pillows behind his head, to help keep him upright.
“Aye ye still feelin’ dizzy?” she asked, examining his face. The small, square bandage Alana had applied to his wound was a startling white against the tan of his skin. It seemed to lighten the dark gray of his eyes, giving them a blueish sheen as they looked into hers. She could not help noticing how tired he looked.
“Nae so much now I’m layin’ down,” he said, “but ye dinnae need tae fuss over me. I’m nae a bairn.”
“But remember what Alana said, ye’ve gottae try tae stay awake as long as ye can,” Maddison told him.
“Aye, I remember,” he replied, laying back with a heavy sigh, which was quickly followed by a yawn.
“Ye’d better have some of the tonic she gave ye.” Maddison fetched the bag and soon brought back the bottle of tonic with a glass. She poured the brackish looking liquid and handed him the glass. He sniffed it and turned up his nose.
“Ach, I’m nae drinkin’ that without a shot of whisky in it tae drown the taste.”
“All right,” she agreed with a sigh and fetched the whisky. She poured a small amount into the glass to top up the purplish tonic. Odhrán looked at her expectantly, still holding it out.
“Is that it?” he asked.
“The whisky will send ye tae sleep if ye have too much,” she argued. He took the bottle from her hand and topped up the glass to the brim. Handing the bottle back to her, he said, “That’s more like it,” and promptly drank the draft down in one. When he had swallowed it, he grimaced, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “By the Wee Man, that’s foul.”
“Medicine has tae be foul, ’tis the law,” she suddenly said, surprising herself with the lighthearted comment. Usually, she would have relished his discomfort. But now… Confused by her own feelings, she hid her expression as she placed the whisky and the bottle of tonic on the nightstand. Then she looked around the room, not quite knowing what to do next. Should she sleep in the chair? Or should she stay with him on the bed to make sure he did not sleep?
What if he falls asleep and… doesnae wake up because I didnae keep watch over him? I’m gonnae have tae stay with him, just fer this one night.
With a sigh, she took off the coverlet and laid it over him. As she did so, his slitted eyes rested on her with an expression of mild surprise, burning into her. She ignored his stare, taking off her shoes and getting on the bed next to him, fully clothed.
“What are ye doin’?” he asked.
“What does it look like? I’m keepin’ an eye on ye, tae make sure ye stay awake fer a while, just like Alana said,” she replied shortly, making sure to keep as much distance between them as possible without actually getting off the bed. “How are ye feelin’?”
“Tired,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “I honestly dinnae ken how much longer I can stay awake.”
“But ye have tae,” she insisted, her concern rising again. “We must think of somethin’ tae make ye stay awake.”
“Ye could tell me a story, about yer life back home,” he suggested.
She scoffed. “That would definitely put ye tae sleep.”
“Ye could tell me what happened after ye got away from here, after yer braithers came tae get ye. I thought of ye often,” he admitted in a soft voice, which, for some reason, made her cheeks heat up.
“Well, I tried never tae think of ye,” she shot back, glimpsing once more the dark shadow that had seemed to hang over her for months after her captivity. But he looked so downcast that she could not help softening towards him. “It was good bein’ back with me family all around me.”
“Aye, I bet it was. Ye’re lucky tae have yer braithers tae care about ye.”
“Aye, I am,” she agreed, smiling at the thought. “And there’s Lillie, of course. And wee Rónán. He’s just startin’ tae walk. I miss him.” She felt a little pang in her heart to think of the babe.
“I’m sorry I took ye away from him tae come back here,” Odhrán said, his gaze making her blush again.
“Hmm,” Maddison said, her heart suddenly full and tears of homesickness pressing against the back of her eyes. “I dinnae wantae talk about me family anymore.” She cast around for some other method to keep him awake. Her eyes alighted on the pile of books. “I ken. I’ll read tae ye.” She reached over and fetched the small pile, starting to look through them, partly as a means of hiding her emotions.
The wave of homesickness began to pass, and once she was sure her voice would not shake, she finally selected a book.
“This should dae it: Ghostly Tales of Highland Trails.” She put the other books aside and turned the volume over in her hands, then looked at Odhrán. “Why did ye pick this one fer me tae read?”
“Who says I did?” he asked, affecting innocence. She almost smiled.
“I ken ye did, unless it was a ghost from the trails who left the books fer me.”
He smiled, and it made her stomach flutter annoyingly. “All right, ye’ve caught me out. I heard ye talkin’ about the library. I would have shown ye where is it if ye’d only have asked me.”
“Ye forget, I’m nae talkin’ tae ye,” she pointed out. This time he laughed, a deep rumbling sound that reverberated around the chamber. It warmed something inside her.
“Just like ye’re nae talkin’ tae me now?”
She sniffed and opened the book. “Now, pay attention. I’m gonnae read ye the tale of the “Shadow Warrior of Loch Gillan.””
And that was what she did. Over the next few hours, she read him more ghostly tales and even found herself laughing with him despite herself at some of the more ridiculous and less than frightening images. In between, she dosed him with the tonic. When dawn’s rosy fingers appeared around the edges of the curtains, and she judged Odhrán lucid enough to be out of danger from his possible concussion, she closed the book and laid it aside with a yawn.
“I think ye can sleep now,” she told him, but when she looked over at him, she saw he was already dozing off. For a few minutes, she examined his features at leisure, and what she saw moved her in ways she did not understand. She could not make sense of it. How could the man she had vowed to hate forever be so dangerously appealing as to stir these feelings of desire inside her such as she had never felt before? Deep down, she had to admit, Odhrán was braw indeed.
His long locks fell in dark disarray against the pillow, and his thick, dark eyelashes lay like bird’s wings beneath his closed eyes, casting shadows on his high cheekbones. A smattering of brown freckles she had never noticed before lay across the bridge of his aquiline nose, giving him a boyish look. But it was his lips, firm and finely sculpted, which snared her attention.
Staring at them, the kiss suddenly came back to her vividly, bringing all the strange, warm stirrings it had ignited in her. She had to resist the temptation to run her fingertips across the black stubble covering his strong-boned, squarish chin, remembering the slightly coarse yet somehow exciting feel of it when he had kissed her. She actually raised her hand to touch it, but then snatched it away.
“What are ye doin’, ye fool? Are ye goin’ soft on him?” she chided herself under her breath. With a sigh, she got off the bed, and slipped under the covers, still with her clothes on. She checked once more on Odhrán, but he seemed to be sleeping soundly. Hardly, knowing what she was doing or why, she lightly touched her lips to his in a chaste kiss. Then, she lay down and, in a state of great confusion, drifted off to sleep.