Defended by a Highland Renegade Read online

  "How? You are too injured to walk." Panic consumed her.

  "Remain calm and let me think." Darack took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "We'll hire a galley to take us to the other end of Loch Ness. Then, we'll send a missive to my cousin Ewan, the Grant chief, and have him send some men to help us go overland to the castle."

  She quickly slid from the bed. "Sounds like a wonderful plan. What shall I do first?"

  "Ask the innkeeper to help you arrange transport for us on a small galley along River Ness, then onto a larger one on Loch Ness. Take the money from my sporran. I know a couple of the captains who will extend us credit if we don't have enough funds."

  "Oh, thank the saints. I didn't know what we were going to do." Feeling relieved that Darack knew which way to travel and would perhaps be familiar with the people along the way, she hastened from the room and down the steps, eager to leave this place.

  In the inn's public room, she met Mistress Gillespie on her way to see Darack. By the time Mairiana returned to their room a half hour later, their transportation was arranged—with the assistance of Hamish. But she found Darack shivering and wrapped up tight in the blankets.

  "What is happening?" Dread rising up within her, Mairiana closed the door and rushed to the bed.

  "He has a fever," Mistress Gillespie said.

  Chapter 10

  "Nay! How could the fever have come on so quickly?" Mairiana placed her hand upon Darack's overheated forehead. "He was improving when I left this room earlier."

  "The cut on his arm is festering," Mistress Gillespie said.

  "Good heavens. For our own safety, we must travel. We don't have any choice. I need help getting him down to the galley."

  "'Tis not wise to move him now," the healer warned. "If it should rain on him, his fever could worsen."

  Mairiana shook her head, imagining Alec bursting into this room and finishing Darack off while in his weakened state. "I must get him back to his clan. Quickly."

  "If you insist. 'Tis not my decision," Mistress Gillespie said in a resigned tone. "I'm sure some of the manservants who work here can help. I changed the poultices and gave him willow bark tea, so that should help."

  "I thank you so much for your help." Mairiana dug into her pouch. "Here, take this." She offered the healer two silver coins.

  "Nay, you keep that. I've a feeling you need it far worse than I do right now, especially while traveling."

  Tears flooded Mairiana's eyes. How could the woman be so perceptive and kind?

  Mistress Gillespie came forward and embraced Mairiana. "I can tell your husband means the world to you. I'll be praying for his speedy recovery. And whoever you're running from, I hope they never find you."

  Mairiana felt like breaking down into sobs as she hugged the compassionate woman, but she couldn't. She swallowed hard and tried to force the tears away. "I thank you."

  "I will tell Hamish you need the help of his employees."

  After the healer exited, Mairiana gathered their few belongings. She then leaned over Darack and kissed his forehead. Good heavens, he was burning up. How could he have gotten worse so quickly?

  "We're going to leave this place," she told him.

  He shivered. "Why is it so cold in here?"

  She pressed her eyes closed, praying that moving him wouldn't make him worse. Alec could show up this day, or tomorrow. And she was not sure they could hide here as they had at the tavern in Dundee.

  A short time later, Hamish brought two of his burly manservants into the chamber. She wrapped the blankets around Darack and the two men lifted him. He groaned.

  "Please be careful with him."

  "Aye." They conveyed him down the stairs and outside, along the cobblestone streets until they reached a dock at the river where several galleys were moored. She found the one she'd hired and the men carried him aboard and lay him in a clean, dry spot.

  The morning was overcast, cool and windy. No rain fell, thank the saints. She sat on the thwart near Darack's head. He appeared asleep again. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder so he would know she was there, and to hold him in place.

  Several oarsmen paddled the boat upstream, along the river as the sails filled with a strong wind off the firth. Around an hour later, when they docked, three men transported Darack onto a larger galley in preparation for heading to the opposite end of Loch Ness.

  A short, portly man approached, his hair and short beard ginger colored. He frowned. "That's Darack Grant."

  "Aye," she said, feeling a moment of panic. Was this man friend or foe?

  "What the devil happened to him?"

  "He fought with a band of thieves and received a head injury and two bad cuts."

  The man crossed himself, then directed the others to take Darack to the center of the boat. "I'm Captain Gordon, by the way."

  "Nice to meet you. I'm Lady Mairiana MacKerrick." She curtsied, feeling relieved that the man seemed to like Darack. "Do you know him well?" she asked.

  The captain bowed. "Indeed, m'lady. I've known him for years. He travels along the loch often. But how did you end up traveling with him?"

  "He is a friend of my brother, the MacKerrick chief. I ran into some trouble and he helped me escape."

  "Och. He's a good man, that one," Captain Gordon said solemnly. "I hope he will recover very quickly."

  With the strong westerly wind, their trip along Loch Ness only took a few hours. The water of the loch appeared dark and deep; she prayed the wind did not blow any harder for the boat was already unsteady. She held on tightly to Darack as he shivered, wrapped in the wool blankets. She prayed his fever would diminish.

  Thankfully, they soon arrived at the dock near Glenmoriston and disembarked. The helpful Captain Gordon and some of his crewmen borrowed a wagon from a nearby crofter. The men placed Darack inside and the rest of them climbed on for the short trip to Dunmoris Castle. Mairiana rested Darack's head upon her lap, careful to not put pressure on the injured spot.

  She was glad to see the road here was not so rough and had recently been cobbled, most likely at Chief Grant's expense. Within an hour, a castle came into view.

  Darack was in and out of wakefulness as they approached the castle.

  Once the men in the bailey saw that Darack was the injured man, they began asking dozens of concerned questions at once and two of them carried him toward the entrance. She answered as many of the questions as she could while also following closely behind Darack. She was thankful he was among his own clan now, so they would help her care for him.

  "Chief! Darack is badly injured," one of the men carrying him called across the great hall. The room was large and dim, but well-lit by candles.

  A tall man with sandy brown hair strode to them. "What happened?" he asked those carrying Darack.

  "He was protecting me from four men who were trying to capture me," Mairiana said.

  The man's sharp blue gaze swung to her. "And who are you?"

  "Mairiana, sister of the Clan MacKerrick chief."

  "I'm pleased to meet you, Lady Mairiana. I'm Ewan, the chief here." He dipped his head briefly.

  "My laird." She curtsied.

  "What are his injuries?" he asked.

  After she told him of Darack's three wounds, he called out across the great hall, "Gertie!" Then to his men, he said, "Take him to the solar."

  "I understand you are his cousin," Mairiana said, following them.

  "Aye, but he is like a brother to me." He turned to one of his men. "Go tell Lady MacGregor that Darack is back and injured."

  His mother, Mairiana guessed. They must have felt safe calling her MacGregor here within the confines of the castle. But if she were to be called by the name in public, she would be in mortal danger.

  "Do not worry, Lady Mairiana. We have the best healers here at Dunmoris," Ewan said as they entered the solar. The men lay Darack down on a bed in the corner. "You should eat. You must be hungry."

  "I thank you but I'll wait until I make sure Darac
k is all right and settled."

  The chief eyed her speculatively.

  "Everyone out. I must check his wounds," Gertie, the healer, announced as she entered the room.

  Mairiana stepped out into the corridor again, along with the men.

  "What has happened?" A panicked female voice came from behind her.

  Mairiana turned to find a lovely dark-haired woman in her forties. "Are you Darack's mother?"

  "Aye. They said he's injured." She craned her neck, trying to see around the men who crowded the area in front of the door.

  Mairiana nodded and before she could say anything else, his mother squeezed between the two men blocking the doorway, and entered the room.

  His mother had every right to go in there, but Mairiana suddenly felt like an outsider. She wasn't Darack's wife or any relation of his. Merely a woman who was falling hard for him. At the moment, she felt lost in a sea of strangers. She missed the pretense of being Darack's wife. It had felt right and true.

  What if he didn't make it? Her stomach knotted and ached. She leaned against the wall in the corner. Everyone moved back and forth, entering and leaving the room, paying her no heed. From the few words she caught here and there, the healer and her assistants were helping Darack. Mairiana sat down on the trunk and tried to calm herself while she prayed. She was thankful for the help she'd received in getting Darack here safely. Now, if only he could recover quickly. If his fever would break and his injuries would start to heal.

  A loud, growling shout startled her. Darack? She bolted to her feet and headed toward the room. A large guard stepped in front of her. "No one else can go inside. Gertie's orders."

  "Hold him down," the healer said to someone.

  Darack rasped a curse.

  "Shh, Darack, you must remain calm." That was his mother's voice.

  Mairiana felt left out… isolated and abandoned in the midst of the Grant clan. Darack's extreme pain caused tears to prick her eyes.

  Overwhelmed with emotion, she returned to the trunk, placed her face in her hands and cried her eyes out, quietly. She didn't want anyone to see or hear her. And with all the noise inside the room, no one would pay her any mind. At least Darack was back into the arms of his family. They would take care of him better than anyone else. But she wanted to help take care of him.

  She did not realize she'd fallen asleep until someone was rousing her. She lifted her head from her arms on her lap and straightened.

  "Who stitched up his wounds?" Darack's mother asked.

  Mairiana blinked the sleep from her eyes. "Sully."

  "Who?"

  "The first mate. We traveled on a ship from Dundee to Inverness. That was where the sword fight took place. The ship's first mate was the only one on board who knew how to stitch wounds."

  Her face pale, Lady MacGregor pressed a hand to her forehead. "Oh, good heavens."

  Mairiana stood, panic shrieking through her. "Did he not do it right?"

  Lady MacGregor shook her head. "Pieces of Darack's shirt were left deep inside the cut. 'Twas why it festered and brought on the fever."

  "I'm sorry." Feeling faint, Mairiana caught against the wall. "I didn't know. We were trying to stop the bleeding."

  "Aye, 'twas not your fault. You did all you could. The healer has opened up the wounds again and removed the small slivers of cloth, washed out the wound with strong whisky and stitched him up again. His fever will likely get worse before it gets better."

  "Oh." Mairiana felt the blood drain from her head. She certainly did not want him to get worse. "A healer in Inverness applied the poultices."

  Lady MacGregor nodded. "They drew out some of the poisons, so that helped."

  "Will he recover?" Mairiana found she was holding her breath.

  "We must have faith that he will, lass."

  Mairiana nodded, tears welling in her eyes.

  With dark eyes so like Darack's, Lady MacGregor watched her with speculation. "What is your name?"

  "Mairiana MacKerrick. My brother is chief of the MacKerrick clan."

  "'Tis a pleasure to meet you, Lady Mairiana. Are you married?"

  Her question, so off topic, startled Mairiana. "Nay."

  "Come. While you eat, you can tell me how you met my son."

  "Could I see him first?" Mairiana wiped the tears from her eyes.

  Observing her with great interest, Lady MacGregor nodded and stepped to the doorway. "Make way for Lady Mairiana."

  When the two guards stepped back, Mairiana entered the room.

  Darack lay on the bed, his face ashen, his eyes closed. Her throat tightened and she couldn't breathe for he looked… dead.

  Chapter 11

  Mairiana rushed to Darack and grabbed his hand. 'Twas warm, thank the saints. Kneeling, she burst into sobs and pressed her forehead against his knuckles. She prayed with all her might that God would heal him.

  "Shh, 'tis all right." Lady MacGregor rubbed her shoulders, embracing her. "He will live."

  Mairiana nodded. What must they think of her? She didn't care. In a short time, Darack had come to mean everything to her.

  "Speak to him," Lady MacGregor whispered.

  "Darack," she said, her voice a bit unsteady. "'Tis me, Mairiana. You must promise me you will get better."

  He swallowed hard and his lips moved. "Mairi…" he rasped.

  "Aye."

  He squeezed her fingers, then appeared to drop off to sleep, his breaths deep and even.

  "He's resting better now," the healer said.

  Within the next few minutes, nearly everyone left the room.

  "Come," Lady MacGregor said softly and squeezed her shoulder. "You must get some rest. You're exhausted."

  "I don't want to leave him," Mairiana confessed. "He didn't leave me in my time of need."

  His mother blinked back tears. "He is a good and honorable man."

  Mairiana nodded. The best she'd ever met.

  "There is a small room off the solar with a cot." She tilted her head toward the corner. "You could sleep there for a few hours. I'll sit here by Darack's side and let you know if his condition changes."

  Mairiana didn't want to, but she also shouldn't argue with Darack's mother. "Very well." She doubted she could sleep, but she would try.

  A maid brought her a light supper and then she lay down to sleep.

  When she awoke, all was quiet and dark. Darack? She leapt up from the cot and stumbled into the main room. A few candles lit the room and Darack still lay on the bed, his mother by his side. Her eyes met Mairiana's.

  "How is he, Lady MacGregor?"

  "Please, call me Nora. And all is well," she whispered. "He seems to be resting. The healer has given him willow bark and poppy tea. And changed the poultice."

  Mairiana moved forward and observed him. He still looked too pale by her estimation. "He lost a lot of blood."

  "Aye. What happened exactly?"

  Mairiana sat down on the chair beside Nora. "In the stables at Lenor Castle, I heard my betrothed, Alec Lindsay, admit to stealing my brother's jeweled dagger, then kill the man who sold it for him—one of his own guards. I knew then I couldn't marry him—a murderer." She relayed the rest of the story, a brief version of it, leaving out a few choice bits of information.

  "Why on earth was Darack at the Lindsay clan's castle, working in the stables?" his mother asked.

  Should she tell Nora that it was because he was on a mission to retrieve her brooch? She wanted him to tell her when he awoke and presented her with the piece of jewelry.

  "I would rather wait and allow Darack to explain it. He will recover, you know," Mairiana said, trying to gather all her courage.

  "Of course. He simply has to—for the two women who love him most." Though she smiled, she blinked back tears.

  A disturbing heat rushed over Mairiana and she glanced away.

  "You do love my son, do you not, lass?"

  Mairiana bit her lip. She could not admit to such a thing before she had even told Darack. He
should be the first to know.

  "You don't have to say so, but I ken you do." She patted Mairiana's hand.

  ***

  Darack lay in bed for ten days, his fever worsening each day. Mairiana prayed and cried until her eyes were swollen and scratchy.

  Three of the clan elders, the healer, his mother, and a priest stood around his bed.

  "You ken what we are going to have to do, don't you?" Osgar, one of the elders with a long white beard, said.

  Mairiana's stomach knotted as she awaited the answer.

  "Nay, what?" Nora asked.

  "Immerse him into the waters of Loch Gheasaibh. 'Tis the wee enchanted loch up in the hills."

  Father Bhradain stiffened as he swiveled his head toward the man who had spoken. "What?" he snapped.

  "Aye, 'haps you have nay heard of it, Father, since you're new here. Legend says 'tis enchanted by the fairies. My grandfather told me that, long ago… before my time, the first chief was near mortally wounded in battle near there. He begged them to put him into the water at the loch's edge. When they did, he was miraculously healed."

  "'Tis the work of the devil," the priest said.

  "Nay," Osgar said, his dark eyes widening. "The Almighty created the loch and the water in it, so it must be His own work."

  "You already said 'twas a fairy loch. That means 'tis heathen."

  "Whatever works," another elder named Reas said.

  "I will not risk the lad's immortal soul because of your heathen customs," Father Bhradain griped.

  Mairiana looked to the healer who stood nearby. Would she be the voice of reason?

  Gertie finally said, "I agree with you, Father. Taking him outside and putting him into ice cold water could kill him in this state. He is burning up. Surely, it would be too much of a shock to his system."

  "I have heard of someone else being healed in the loch," Nora said.

  Mairiana rose to stand with them. "You have? Who was it?"

  "A friend of mine," she said vaguely, "from the next village."

  "Anything is worth a try, is it not?" Mairiana asked.

  "Who are you?" Father Bhradain asked in a stern tone, surprising her. She'd met him days ago. Did he not remember her?