Chapter Eleven
Two days later, Emma entered the healing hut after having made her calls on the older patients who mostly wanted to talk and take the food she brought them.
The situation with Morgan had been going over and over in her mind since her conversation with Daniel. He hadn’t said anything else to her about it, but that was no surprise because as he’d said he wouldn’t know much more until Gregory and Megan returned.
One main question was since the Gunn and the Sinclair had conspired to kill Robert Sinclair, and had been sentenced to hang, what would Daniel do with her patient now?
The Laird of the Gunn Clan.
Daniel had impressed upon her that the messenger, her, him, and Beth were the only ones who knew, and she was not to tell Morgan about what had happened to his uncle. Daniel wanted time to discuss the situation with Gregory upon his return before he decided what to do about Morgan.
And of course, he’d added, he would get some input from Beth as well, which she knew was something he did with every major decision he had to make.
Emma had barely opened the door when Morgan began to speak. “Where have ye been, lass? Can we take a walk now? Anywhere outside. I’m weary of walking from my cot to the counter and back, hobbling along like an old mon to keep my wound closed.”
Emma smiled. She had noticed that his expression had softened the past days as did the way he spoke to her.
However, now she had to take deep breaths to keep from looking at Morgan in a different way. Not only was he a warrior and Second-in-Command to the Gunn, he was the Gunn.
With still-healing ribs and a damaged leg.
And a clan to lead.
At least, that was what she assumed would happen, even though Daniel had not told her what his plans were. She was sure that tossing Morgan, now the Gunn clan laird, into the dungeon was not something he would do.
And would most likely not be something the king would be happy about.
“Aye, I think a turn in the garden would be good. But ye still need to walk slowly.”
Morgan sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
She’d noticed how much his body had improved since he was eating again.
He’d gained weight, and she’d seen him strengthening his muscles by laying on his stomach, placing his palms on the wooden frame of his bed, then raising and lowering himself until he was in a sweat.
He reached for the breeches he’d been given when he’d started to move about and pulled them over the léine covering his muscular chest. She quickly glanced away, feeling the flush rise from her stomach to her face since she’d been obviously staring at him.
Nay, she didn’t feel anything for him.
“Do ye like what ye see, Emma?”
She shrugged, even though her face was burning with humiliation. “I doona ken what ye mean.”
The annoying mon laughed. “I think ye do.”
“Are ye interested in taking a walk outside, or do ye want to gab like an old lady?”
He laughed harder, and even though she thought it was impossible, her face grew even warmer.
When he was finished with his breeches, she walked toward him to wrap her arm around his waist and moved him forward.
“’Tis good to walk.”
“I’m sure it is, but ye are still a ways from being able to go into battle, ye ken.”
He sighed and looked forward. “I hope ye are right about going into battle. I canno’ be anything else since I was trained as a warrior and should always be prepared to fight.”
She nodded, although she knew he was now laird of his clan.
Most likely still a warrior, but with other major responsibilities.
She could only hope Daniel did let Morgan go, because from what she’d seen after spending time with him, he would be a good laird.
Especially based on what the Gunn and the Sinclair had done, conspiring to kill an enemy clan’s laird and then kidnap his widow to give to someone else, she didn’t think they had been very good at taking care of their clans.
In contrast, she decided, Morgan would be a good laird.
The air was cool and crisp with scant sunshine. Morgan was warm as she snuggled against him. She could feel his frustration at being hindered by his wound and still-sore ribs.
“Morgan, ye cannot rush yer recovery. Ye haven’t spent that much time walking around outside and I still worry about ye stumbling.
“I am truly amazed at how quickly ye have reached this point in yer healing considering how long ye had a fever. But if ye push yerself ye might end up on yer back again with split stitches, or if ye fall ye can damage yer ribs again.”
He shook his head. “Nay. I’m ne’er going to heal if I stay off my feet.
” He looked at her through narrowed eyes.
“What I doona understand is why yer laird hasn’t told me yet what he’s to do with me.
I am certainly healed enough to either be sent back to Clyth Castle or told I’m being held for ransom. ”
Emma sighed.
She turned them toward the kitchen door when she heard a great deal of yelling and cheering. “Oh! I believe Gregory and Megan have returned. The laird said we’d be expecting them.”
“Is that the lass my uncle had his eye on? The one that this entire debacle was for? The reason we fought a useless battle? I will have a few words to say to my uncle when I see him again.”
“If your uncle wanted to marry the lass, I assume he lost if she has returned with her husband.” She didn’t want to say any more about it, afraid she would slip and say something about his uncle’s execution.
Morgan shook his head. “Had I known beforehand that kidnapping a woman to have her marriage annulled was what those two lairds had in mind, I would not have led my men into battle.”
She shrugged. “I doona think ye would have had a choice.”
He offered her a smile that lit up his eyes and tightened the muscles in her stomach. “I have my ways. My uncle is no’ a verra good laird.”
Once Emma had him back in the healing hut, she gathered a few pouches and turned to him as she headed to the door. “I have to gather herbs from the garden, I am running low in my supply. Before I leave, I will stop at the kitchen to remind them to bring ye a tray for lunch.”
He gave her a look that made her body warm. “My lunch tastes much better when ye bring it.”
Emma was growing concerned at her body’s reaction when he looked at her a certain way. Morgan had gone from enemy to she knew not what, but after his unexpected kisses, it was growing hard to remember who he was and who she was.
Just as Emma prepared to leave, Janet returned from a trip to the village and stopped in to share her news. “I stopped in to see the new mam and her babe. Aside from crying all the time—both mam and babe—they are doing well.”
Emma smiled, knowing new mams often cried as much as their bairns did. “I’m off to replenish my herb pouches,” she said.
“Megan and Gregory have returned,” Janet added.
Emma nodded. “I ken. I had Morgan out for a walk, and we saw them arrive with our men.”
Janet’s brows rose. “Morgan walked outside?”
“Aye. He did verra well, but was impatient at what he thought was his lack of progress.”
After clearing his throat, Morgan said, “I’m right here, ye ken. Ye can ask me how I did.” He winked at Emma.
Emma laughed. “Doona pay him any mind. He’s supposed to be resting, no’ listening to my conversations.”
Morgan looked at Janet. “See how she mistreats me? Her favorite patient.”
Janet frowned and looked back and forth between the two of them just as the door to the hut opened and one of the younger warriors walked in with blood dripping from his hand. Even from this distance, she could see it was a simple slice and nothing too concerning.
“Janet, do ye think ye can tend to him? He might need sewing up?”
The lass paled but nodded. “Aye. I’ve seen ye do it many times.”
Emma patted the lass on her shoulder. “Ye will do fine.”