Chapter 11
Kayden woke up early after a night of fitful sleep. Not to mention that the stirring next door had done very little to settle his already frayed nerves.
Had she nae gotten good sleep either?
Tossing and turning seemed to be the only thing on the menu for the two of them.
Things had not felt this out of his control in a long time, perhaps as far back as when he had lost his father and brother.
Frustration ruled his movements as he dressed.
He remembered that for a few months there, he had barely been able to sleep. It was the same now, after this marriage. He had agreed to it, he had expected it, but he had not been prepared for Lilliana.
Perhaps a few hours on the training grounds will do me well—get me head right.
He walked out into the early morning. The sun was still below the horizon, but the sky danced with magical oranges and reds.
Lilliana was so very different from what he had imagined. When Ashcombe said he had trouble marrying her off, Kayden had assumed it had something to do with her countenance or age.
For sure, it was her stubbornness that was the problem.
Even as he huffed, his breath misting in the cold morning air, he could not help but admit to himself that he did not find her as abhorrent as he might have once thought.
Jacob looked up from where he was sharpening a sword, eyebrow raised. “Good morning to ye, Cousin. What’s to do?”
“Why do ye ask?” Kayden asked, snagging a piece of leather to bind his hands.
“Well, ye look as if ye have seen a haint, what with yer hair standing on end and those heavy bags beneath yer eyes. Daenae tell me ye’re nae sleeping well again.”
Kayden grunted. His cousin knew him too well.
“I thought we might spar this morning,” he said, instead of answering the question.
“Ha,” Jacob scoffed. “I kent ye were in a black mood. I daenae ken why I have to pay for it.”
Kayden gave him a smile. “Come on, Jacob. Ye daenae mean to say ye are afeared of a bit of swordplay.”
“Afeared? Nay. I just daenae fancy having me head cut off because ye are distraught over yer sassenach wife.”
“I am nae distraught! Daenae be ridiculous.”
Jacob laughed, gesturing with one hand as he lifted his sword with the other. “Distracted, then.”
Kayden remained silent, which very well might have been a confirmation of his cousin’s suggestion.
“Come on then,” Jacob said teasingly. “What are ye waiting for?”
Kayden lunged at him, and their swords clashed.
He did not want to think about his wife, but he could not help but imagine her on the other side of that connecting door.
She had been stirring when he left, and he had immediately pictured her in a linen nightgown—innocent and untouched—the neckline held together by a delicate satin ribbon.
All he had to do to loosen it was… pull.
Her breasts would spill out, and he would cup them in his hands—
Jacob’s sword clanged sharply against his own.
Christ! Focus, man!
Kayden pushed those thoughts away to clear his head, which was the point of this sparring session.
After a while, longer than either man had planned, sweat soaked their tunics, each refusing to give an inch to the other. Kayden found that the knot in his stomach loosened somewhat, though it did not disappear.
“Do ye want to talk about it?” Jacob asked between panting breaths as they slowed down.
“Nay.”
“Would ye like me to guess?”
Kayden merely grunted. His sword rang as it clashed with Jacob’s.
“If ye willnae tell me what has yer movements mirrorin’ a blind mule’s.”
Kayden huffed. “Shut it.”
“After what she did yesterday, everyone is talking about her, ye ken. Is she yer wife or yer hostage?”
Kayden frowned. “Why would they say that?”
Jacob paused, placing his sword on the bench before standing to study Kayden, hands on his waist. “They ken ye havenae consummated yer marriage. The whole castle is waiting with bated breath. Ye might have to explain yerself soon. The maids take care of the linen, ye ken?”
Kayden looked away from him. “What happens in me chambers is none of their business,” he sneered.
“Well, I think ye are wrong there, Cousin. The stability and security of the clan is their business. And servants talk, and they ken ye havenae shared a bed. So, people are confused as to how they should treat her. Especially when ye openly show ye daenae trust her by nae letting her leave the castle.”
Kayden expelled a loud breath as he squatted down, supporting himself with his sword. “I just—It isnae that—” He broke off. “I daenae ken what to do, Jacob,” he sighed.
“It isnae that hard, Cousin.”
“It is because I ken it means far more to her than it should, considering it is just a marriage of convenience.”
“Come now, Kayden. Ye cannae believe that anymore, nae after everyth—”
“If ye ken what is good for ye, ye willnae finish that thought,” he warned, his patience wearing thin.
“Someone must. So, if ye willnae hear it from me, then find someone ye will hear it from because ye need to hear it!” Jacob retorted, flipping his sword up to rest on his shoulder before stalking away.
Lilliana woke up early and went in search of Old Fergus. After seeing the villagers the day before, she wanted to talk to him about what might be ailing them.
Betsy joined her as they walked towards his cottage, which was at the end of the property, away from the bustle of the castle. She wanted to get away from it because she felt as if everyone was watching her.
She knocked tentatively on Old Fergus’s door, ready for battle if he thought to send her away.
“Lady McGill!” he greeted as soon as he saw her. “What a pleasure it is to see ye. Come in.”
Lilliana and Betsy stepped into his home.
Betsy followed closely as Lilliana followed Old Fergus, looking around curiously. The cottage was surprisingly neat, with nothing out of place—a stark contrast to the state of the healer’s garden and healer’s quarters.
To one side was a bench and a stool, and on the other was a rocking chair decorated with gaily knitted pillows. A fire blazed merrily in the grate, warming the room. To the back of the room stood a table on which sat a variety of herbs.
“Sit down,” Old Fergus said.
Lilliana and Betsy took a seat on the bench, while Old Fergus sat in the rocking chair, his eyes fixed on the roaring fire. He did not seem in a hurry to speak. He simply let them sit.
Eventually, Lilliana drew a breath. “I went to the village yesterday.”
“Ye did?”
“Yes. I did not really see signs of illness. I did treat two children, though. One had a wound on his leg, and the other had the falling sickness. Can you tell me more about the illness? When did it start?”
“Och. Seemed to come with the summer. At first, it was just a few people, but then the number grew. Thought it might be the rats.”
“Are their symptoms plague-like, would you say?”
“Ach, we havenae had the plague around these parts before. It is difficult to ken. But what else could it be?”
Lilliana pondered the question. She had no idea what the answer could be. “Tell me what their symptoms are.”
Old Fergus sighed. “Well, they are fevered and have a rash on their skin.”
“That is why you thought it was the plague?”
“Aye.”
“What else?”
“Weariness despite rest. Weakness in their legs.”
“I see. I will go back and check my books and notes to see if I can find a more accurate diagnosis. Who else can help?”
“I can speak with Moira. She kens quite a bit; she is just a busy woman.”
“Good plan. What of appetite?”
“It is difficult to tell with the hunger they are suffering through. The redcoats have been siphoning off our stores and merchants. It is an ongoing issue.”
“Mmm. I think the first thing we need to see to is their nutrition. Is there any way we can ensure they are fed well?”
Old Fergus gave her a sidelong glance. “Well, if we can guarantee the redcoats willnae steal their food…”
“Yes, I see. Will they stop now?”
“They havenae been by since the marriage, or is it the wedding?”
Lilliana frowned. She knew what Old Fergus was implying, but did not want to indulge his insinuations. So, she opted not to say a word about it.
“The Laird would know. I will get more information from him, and perhaps Moira has an idea of how to replenish stores.”
“Aye, I will ask her, Me Lady.”
“Then can I count on you to join me in providing food and eventually treating the ill villagers when the time comes?”
“Aye, Me Lady, ye can count on me.”
“Please send word after you receive more information.”
“Aye, Me Lady,” Old Fergus said politely.
Lilliana left the cottage, Betsy in tow.
It was a long walk back to the castle, but Lilliana did not hurry.
“I will have to find a way to speak with the Laird,” she thought out loud.
“You can come up with an excuse to get him alone?” Betsy suggested.
Lilliana nearly forgot that her maid was there. She forced herself to laugh. “Hmm,” she murmured, looking around at the beautiful scenery.
She could not help but recall the walks she and her sisters used to take around Hyde Park.
Perhaps I can just ask him to walk with me?
“Or perhaps write him a letter?” Betsy added.
Lilliana simply nodded. The closer she got to the castle, the gloomier she felt. She dismissed Betsy as they entered through a side passageway.
Still thinking about how to get Kayden alone, Lilliana passed no one on her way to the healer’s quarters, for which she was very thankful. She stepped into the now-cleaned chamber and closed the door behind her.
Circling the large table in the middle of the room, she took a seat on the bench behind it with a sigh. She loved the smell of herbs, the astringent lemon peel she brought with her from England, mixed with soothing lavender blossoms and fragrant cinnamon powder.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Rua strolled in.
She had to smile at the dog. “You know you are the best company in this castle?”
A meow sounded behind her, and she jerked in surprise before turning to see her cat lounging on the top shelves.