Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“Nay, do it, lass. ‘Twill no’ be the first time I have been stitched. I was lucky I dinnae feel the first you put in me.” He grinned and raised an eyebrow at her.
Brenna gathered her thoughts and said a quick prayer as she oft did before stitching.
Her feelings betrayed her at the moment.
Normally, she would make a quick job of setting the first stitch, but she hesitated.
She stopped to glance at Quade. For some reason, she was timid about inserting the needle.
Was this what happened when you had feelings for the patient? Her brow creased in doubt.
“Lass? You are making me a bit nervous. Get on with it, aye?”
Brenna gave a quick nod and pierced his skin, hoping she wasn’t being any more rough than usual. She was almost finished when Quade’s hand reached up to her brow.
“You are sweating, lass. I do no’ want it to affect your vision.” He mopped the sweat from her forehead, but not without adding a soft caress with his thumb.
His teeth were clenched in response to the pain she was inflicting, but there was something else in his gaze, something unfamiliar to her.
She tied off the last stitch and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Done. You are all right?” She searched his face for any sign of distress, but he appeared in complete control.
His fingers brushed the length of her jaw, his gaze locked on hers.
His hand cupped her cheek before reaching behind her neck and pulling her toward him.
It was a tentative kiss of warmth, softness, and everything she wanted from him.
She heard a soft sound in her throat right before she leaned into him and parted her lips, allowing his tongue to search her mouth.
This was nothing she had ever experienced before.
The needle clattered to the floor, but she ignored it.
His hand caressed her neck, then threaded through her hair.
He pulled back enough to whisper, “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Lady Brenna? I think no’ and I cannae get enough of your sweet lips.
” He raised his lips to hers again, angling himself to deepen the kiss.
A low groan came from him as he ran his tongue inside her mouth.
She broke the kiss instantly. “You are hurting? You are in pain?”
He smiled. “Aye, lass, I am in pain. But no’ from your stitching. From your beauty, from everything about you.”
Brenna blushed and pulled away, staring into his green eyes. No one had ever called her beautiful before. What was this chief about? Why did he look at her the way he did, almost as if he wanted to devour her? And he was married, she reminded herself. Married.
She licked her lips and his hand caressed her hip. Dropping her gaze, she bent down to pick up the things she had dropped, but gasped when she noticed the bulge under the blanket beneath his waist.
“Och, you see what you do to me, lovely one?” Quade grinned shamelessly.
Her cheeks flushed so fast, she held her hand in front of her face in an attempt to hide her color from him.
He chuckled, the sound sending shockwaves through her body.
Collecting her things, she turned away in embarrassment.
She puttered with her tools, attempting to clean them.
She had heard the servants talk about a man’s arousal, but she had never observed it herself.
It was shocking that she, Brenna Grant, could actually cause that to happen to a lad.
And the sounds she’d uttered when he kissed her? He must think her a fool or a wanton.
What would her brothers think of her? She was dallying with a married man. She found a cup and filled it with water, dropping a couple of drops of draught in it before bringing it to Quade. She held the cup to his lips, but her hand trembled and the liquid dribbled down his chin.
“Och, lass, do no’ be embarrassed.” His hand covered hers to steady it. “’Tis a wonderful thing between us. Enjoy it and celebrate it.”
He never let go of her hand but leaned back and pulled her fingers to his lips. “You are a fine treasure, Brenna Grant.” His eyes fluttered shut and he fell asleep.
Thank goodness. She needed to think.
Chapter Five
“Aggie, my bowl…”
Brenna prayed for strength as she walked into the room.
Was she about to meet his wife? For the first time in her adult life, she was uncertain as to whether she could handle this situation with the neutrality a healer should have.
Much as she tried, she could not fight her feelings for Quade.
What condition could his wife be in that was so urgent?
The dark chamber carried a strong and distinctive stench, but she couldn’t identify it.
Furs covered the windows in the small chamber.
An array of bowls and urns were stacked in various spots.
She wasn’t sure what to make of the containers placed in what appeared to be purposeful locations.
An older woman sat near the bed wringing her hands, obviously caring for the woman who was swathed under the blankets.
Could she do this? Quade’s hand at her back propelled her closer to the small mound of blankets.
She turned back to stare at the dark handsome laird behind her.
What was he about? She wanted to tell him how much he confused her, but she just couldn’t.
How she wished that he was unattached, and they had met under different circumstances.
Turning to face the bed again, she stepped forward.
The old woman stepped into the light, revealing a face stained with tears. “Bless you, my lady.”
Brenna steeled herself and turned to the bed as Quade reached for the coverlet and pulled it back.
“Lady Brenna,” he said. “Meet my daughter, Lily.”
His daughter? Lily was his daughter?
Why did her heart soar at that declaration? The fact that he had a daughter didn’t mean he was unmarried. He must still have a wife somewhere. She just hadn’t met her yet.
Two small arms reached out from the bed. “Da, you are home? Who did you bring? A new mama for us?”
“Hush, sweet one.” Quade reached down and scooped his daughter into his arms, planting a kiss on her cheek. “This is no’ your mama. Mind your manners and greet her properly. Her name is Lady Brenna Grant, and she has verra special skills as a healer.”
Brenna’s anxiety soared in a second. “Put her down, Quade; mind your stitches, please.”
“Och, she weighs less than a feather, Lady Brenna. She is no’ hurting my stitches. But I will set her down for you to examine her.”
“What stitches, Da?” Lily’s angelic face grew wide-eyed as her father lowered her to her pallet.
“Papa ran into a mean old boar, but Uncle Logan took care of him for me. I’m fine. How is my Lily flower?” He beamed at his daughter with pride, causing Brenna’s heart to jump when he turned that same smile to her. A man who loved his bairn this much was definitely a good man.
She turned back to her new patient. Lily was a beautiful golden-haired child, probably between three and four summers.
Instead of running outside in the fields like a normal wean, she clearly could not move outside her chamber unless carried.
She was too thin and there were dark circles under her eyes.
Quade’s assessment was correct; she was likely too light to upset his stitches.
What would cause such a beautiful child to be so frail?
Brenna would guess she barely had the strength to walk.
The lass’s smile was brilliant for her father, but her skin was dull and dry, and the odor of sickness in the room was still unrecognizable to Brenna.
It had been an effort for the poor child to reach up to wrap her hands around Quade’s neck.
This was no short illness, but something that had sapped Lily’s strength over time.
Turning to her caretaker, two wee arms reached out. “Aggie, my bowl.”
Brenna’s heart broke as the caretaker reached behind her, grabbed the small basin and held it in front of the child just in time to catch the contents of her stomach as it spewed from her tiny mouth. Almost pure liquid, but her frail body continued to heave until not even that came up.
Quade sighed and glanced at the caretaker with his eyebrow raised. “Aggie? What was it this time?”
“Aye, Chief. She had a bit of bread since she was feeling better. I thought mayhap she could handle it. She is getting worse, she cannae hold anything down.” Aggie wiped at the child’s mouth with a linen cloth.
Tears ran down the wee lass’s eyes as her mouth turned into a frown. “Forgive me, my lady, but I couldnae stop,” she said to Brenna, her voice weak. Her eyes crinkled, her upper lip trembled as Brenna observed the fight in the little soul. Her weeping continued as she held her belly with one hand.
“Papa, my tummy hurts so. Can she fix me?”
“She will try, little one. You must do as she asks.” Quade stroked her forehead.
“Papa, does she have to bleed me?” Her small head turned again toward Lady Brenna. “Please do no’ bleed me. It hurts me so and makes me feel terrible.” A flood of tears washed over Lily’s face once more. Her sobbing broke Brenna’s heart, so she sat on the bed and lifted the lass onto her lap.
“‘Tis all right, wee one. ‘Tis nae your fault.” She tucked Lily’s head under her chin and rubbed soft circles on her back, hoping to calm her. Brenna turned her head in time to catch the tears in Quade’s eyes, but he spun around and left the chamber.
“I willnae bleed you, wee one. I ken some healers believe in bleeding their patients, but my mama taught me it is for naught most of the time. We will try something else.”
Chapter Eleven
Alex finally arrives on Ramsay land to retrieve his sister. I love Quade in this scene!
Quade heard the Grant’s battle cry and cringed.
“Grant! By my arrow, give me a moment before you finish me. Every man should be granted a last request. Aye? By your Scottish honor?”
Alex’s arm reached across the sea of warriors. Instant silence followed.