Chapter 21
Nathaniel somehow managed to make it back to the shieling in the dark. He laid Kit out on his bedroll and then made a quick fire using bricks of peat. He also lit a couple of rushlights to better see what he was doing.
Nat was growing concerned. He’d only been enrolled as a medical student for one year, but he had enough training to know that the fact that Kit had not regained consciousness was not good.
He removed the leather cord that Kit used to tie back his hair and carefully palpated his scalp.
He found no sign of a head wound. Which was good, but his loss of consciousness remained a mystery.
His next best guess was that Kit had cracked a rib on that large rock and had passed out due to the pain.
Nat felt guilty about undressing him while he was unconscious, especially recalling how shy Kit was when it came to exposing his own body.
But this was a matter of medical necessity.
Nat must set aside the strange attraction that had been flaring between him and Kit for weeks and remain detached and professional.
Thus resolved, he unbuttoned Kit’s waistcoat and pulled it from around his arms. He pulled his shirt free from his trousers and unknotted the simple cravat the young man insisted upon wearing, even here in the wilds of Scotland.
When he pulled Kit’s shirt over his head, he received his first shock. Kit’s ribs were already bound with a wide strip of linen! Had he been suffering from a broken rib this whole time? No wonder the fall had affected him to such a degree. Why on earth hadn’t he said anything about it?
As he unrolled the band of linen, Nathaniel felt terrible. He had seen how Kit had struggled, packing the supplies in from the coast. If he’d had any idea that the young man was nursing an injury, he never would have…
Nat’s thoughts scrambled as the linen fell away from Kit’s body.
Breasts. Kit had—
He was a… No, not he. She.
Kit was a woman.
Nathaniel collapsed on the bedroll with a heavy thump. It all made sense now. The attraction he had felt toward Kit. His inability to keep his hands off of him… her. The feelings he had every time they were together, that she was his other half, his soul mate.
She was his soul mate! Happiness swelled within him, because if she was a woman, that meant that they could marry! What he felt for Kit—if that was even her name—wasn’t condemned in the eyes of society. He could have her for his wife, and they would never be parted!
Well. He could ask her to be his wife. She might very well refuse him.
But surely, she wouldn’t. Surely, she felt this, too.
Surely, this was meant to be.
He shook himself. She could hardly accept his proposal when she remained in a state of unconsciousness!
He reached toward her torso, then hesitated. It felt wrong to fondle her while she was insensible. And yet, he suspected that she had a broken rib. Her situation had not changed medically just because of his inadvertent discovery.
Steeling himself, Nathaniel palpated each of Kit’s ribs. He did not note any obvious breaks, nor any bruising or swelling. Additionally, she did not make any sounds of pain during the course of his exam.
As soon as he was done, he whisked the blanket off his bedroll and draped it over her torso. See? He could control his unseemly urges.
The fact remained, however, that he had not discovered the cause of Kit’s medical distress. There was no obvious sign of a head wound, nor of a broken rib.
Frustrated, Nat went to the bucket in the corner where they stored fresh rainwater for drinking. He was thirsty from his frantic rush down the mountain. He ladled some into one of their two tin cups, raised it to his lips, and froze.
A memory came back. Kit had spilled her canteen first thing that morning. Nat had instructed her to share his water… but now that he thought on it, he couldn’t recall her actually taking a sip.
She was suffering from dehydration.
He rushed to her side, his own thirst forgotten. Placing an arm behind her, he propped her up into a sitting position, careful to keep the blanket in place. He raised the cup to her lips. “Kit, can you hear me? You need to drink.”
She made a whimpering sound. Carefully, Nat brought the cup to her lips. He didn’t want her to choke, but it was imperative that she take in some water. “Can you drink? Just a little?” He tilted the cup so it just moistened her lips.
She shuddered in his arms and licked her lips. “That’s it, my love,” he encouraged, giving her the tiniest sip. “This will make you feel better.”
It was a painstaking task. Nat eventually propped her up against their two pillows and a sack of oats so he had his hands free.
He fetched a spoon and ladled the water into her mouth a few drops at a time.
Half of it dribbled down her neck, and the few drops he was able to coax down her throat sometimes sent her into a fit of coughing.
But halfway through the second cup, her eyes blinked open. “Nathaniel? What... How did I…?”
“You passed out after retrieving my notebook. Do you remember that part?” At Kit’s nod, Nat continued, “I carried you here. I suspect the reason you lost consciousness was due to dehydration.” He quickly refilled the tin cup. “Here, would you like some more water?”
“Please. I’m so thirsty!” Kit sat up, and the blanket promptly fell into her lap.
She glanced down, then jerked in surprise at the sight of her bare breasts. She shrieked and grabbed for the blanket, but couldn’t seem to grasp it.
“I’m sorry!” Nathaniel cried. Reaching forward, he pulled the blanket up to cover her.
She crossed her arms over her chest, clutching the blanket to her desperately. Her eyes were shut as if she couldn’t bear to look at him.
“I didn’t mean to pry,” he said in a rush. “But you struck a rock when you fell, and I feared the reason you had lost consciousness was due to a broken rib. I swear, I only intended to assess your injuries.”
“It’s all right,” she said in a small voice. “I believe you.” In spite of her dehydrated state, a tear slipped from one eye and streaked down her cheek.
“Here,” Nat said gruffly, “let’s get you some water.”
Kit accepted the cup with trembling fingers, still not meeting Nat’s eye. After drinking three cups, she cleared her throat. “Thank you. You are doubtlessly wondering about the reason for my deception.”
“Not really,” Nat answered without thinking.
Kit gave him a strange look, but at least she was meeting his gaze.
Nat hastened to explain, “What I mean is, I assumed it was because you wanted the position, and it was only open to male students.”
“Oh.” Kit chewed her lip, considering. “That is essentially correct.”
He leaned forward. “Look, Kit… Is Kit really your name?”
“It’s Kate,” she admitted.
“Kate!” He liked that. It was elegant, yet unpretentious.
It suited her.
“Kate,” he repeated, trying to accustom himself to the new name. “Obviously, you did not intend for me to discover your identity in this way. But, now that I have, things will clearly have to change.”
She looked down. “I understand. You will want me off the project—”
“I want no such thing.”
She glanced up at him, brows creased in confusion. “Then what, exactly, are you proposing?”
“Proposing. An apt choice of words.” He took her hand. “What I want, Kate, is to marry you.”