A Beautiful Lie (The Camaraes) (39 page)

..ooOOoo..

Lachlan couldn
’
t understand what had woken him.  It was still dark, the castle was perfectly still, nothing appeared amiss, and yet something had woken him up from his deep, dreamless sleep.  He stretched his faintly sore muscles, (smiling at the memory of how they had become sore,) and peered around the dim bedchamber.  The fire was still burning low in the hearth so there was a little light to see by- still, nothing seemed to be wrong.

Deciding that whatever had roused him couldn
’
t be anything to worry about Lachlan settled back down under the blankets and reached for his wife.  She had rolled away from him at some point during the night.  He smiled to himself and wondered of that could possibly be what had caused him to wake.  Was he already so used to sleeping nestled against her soft, curvaceous body that to do without her was intolerable?

“
Muira?
”
Lachlan choked the second that his hand brushed her waist.  Her skin felt as though it was fire! 
“
Muira?
”
he said again, more loudly and urgently. 

She murmured something incoherent, but she didn
’
t appear to be able to be woken.  Even when Lachlan shook her gently by the shoulders, she merely whimpered in a state of agitation.  

Cursing worriedly under his breath, Lachlan climbed out of bed and hurriedly lit a few candles so that he could better see his wife.  Her skin was beaded with sweat and clammy to the touch, she was shivering violently and holding her whole body taut.

“
Muira?
”
Lachlan groaned, trying again to rouse her.  He damped a cloth, using the fresh water in the washbasin, and laid it across Muira forehead, leaving her for just a second as he grabbed a dressing gown, tying it around his waist before ringing for the maid.

After Liane had been sent for, Lachlan pulled up a chair up next to Muira
’
s side of the bed and sat down on it heavily.  He reached for his wife
’
s hand.  It was strangely cold, given how hot the rest of her body was, and his brow furrowed in a deep, extremely worried, frown.

It was his fault.

If only he had turned back and returned to The Three Oaks as soon as he
’
d found that tree blocking the road from Castle Cameron to Eilean Donan!  He could have left Muria safely at the inn and cleared the tree with the men, but
no
, he had kept her out there with them.  Why?!  He had even allowed her to help!  He had made her spend the night sleeping on the ground, as if she were one of his men- with
winter
approaching!

Lachlan groaned deeply and buried his head in his hands.  If anything happened to Muira because of his stupidity he would never forgive himself.  He had promised to protect her- to look after her, they had been married for a matter of days and he had already failed her!

A quiet knock on the door roused Lachlan
’
s attention.  He was about to holler
‘
enter
’
but realised just in time that it might disturb his wife, so instead he got to his feet and hurried over to the door, opening it up to find Liane standing in the hall, bundled up in her nightdress, a thick coat, a pair of clogs and a ridiculous looking hat of sorts.  Lachlan stared and her for a moment, before beckoning her to enter.

“
What
’
s amiss, master?
”
Liane asked, her voice breathless with a kind of morbid excitement.

“
Your mistress has caught a chill-
”
Lachlan prayed it was nothing worse,
“
-I need your help tending her.  Do you understand, Liane?
”

Liane nodded her rather absurd looking head.  The young lines of her face were knitted in a most concerned frown, which Lachlan found rather charming, once again confident that he couldn
’
t have chosen a better maid for his wife.  He only hoped that Muira would have more of an opportunity to appreciate Liane when she recovered.

..ooOOoo..

It was hot.  So hot.  Wasn
’
t it nearly winter?  Why was it so hot? 

To Muira, it felt as if she was sitting (or was she lying?) by a roaring fire, in her thickest dress, on the hottest day in the middle of summer.  But as soon as she would find herself getting used to the heat, it went, like night falling over a desert, and she began to shiver.  She shook with the cold, her bones ached, her teeth chattered.  She wanted her dear mama, who would rock her in her arms when she was sick, and who sang a soft sweet lullaby over her bed every night.

“
Mama?
”
she puffed, as her blood began to burn again.  She would take the hurt away.

“
Muira?  Muira- can you hear me?  You
’
re going to get better, you have to, I can
’
t do without you now.
”

The voice
…
the voice belonged to a man.  Oh- but who?  It was so hard to think in the dark, in the dark hot-cold mist she was lost inside.  It wasn
’
t her father, it wasn
’
t her brothers either
…
who
was it?  A hand was laid against her forehead, steady and warm, and Muira relaxed a little.  She recognised the touch, even if her head hurt too much to place the voice.

“
Listen Muira, and listen carefully, it was worth it, it will all be worth it, just open your eyes and speak to me.
”

..ooOOoo..

Lachlan was frantic.

He and Liane had nursed Muria through the night, but it was midmorning now and her fever still showed no signs of breaking.  She hadn
’
t even been able to recognise them-
him
.  She had called out for her mother several times, a woman Lachlan understood to have passed away when Muira was no more than a little girl.  He had sat talking to her for hours, and yet she hadn
’
t once whispered
his
name.  Lachlan didn
’
t want to examine to deeply the very great hurt that omission had caused him.

He held Muira
’
s hand and continued to talk to her, promising her the world if only she would get better soon.  A knock on the chamber door roused his attention, but could not induce him to leave his wife
’
s bedside.  Liane bustled over to see who it was, opening the door to be met with a loud:
“
where is that no good brother of mine?
”

Lachlan twisted on his chair. 
“
Bridghe!
”
he exclaimed, looking over the woman who had just come marching into the room. 

She had the same hair, the same eyes, as her brother, and like him had also inherited a good portion of their father
’
s height, so that she fairly towered over Liane, the little maid.  Hearing her brother
’
s voice, she turned towards him, opening her mouth to scold (judging by the scowl on her lovely face) but she stopped short.

“
Lachlan, you look awful!
”
she gasped, and then her eyes fell on the woman lying in the bed and her worried frown deepened.

“
Fever,
”
Lachlan said hopelessly.

Bridghe walked nearer to the bed and look over Muira more closely. 
“
Has Shawe been to see her?
”
she asked softly.

“
Aye,
”
Lachlan nodded.  The castle doctor has been summoned as soon as it was light, but he hadn
’
t been a great deal of help. 
“
He said there was nothing to do but wait.
”

Bridghe huffed at this and began to roll up her sleeves. 
“
Well, I don
’
t see that
that
’
s
true,
”
she swelled indignantly.

“
Bridghe-?
”

“
Don
’
t worry little brother, we
’
ll set your bonnie Cameron wife to rights,
”
she smiled sweetly, patting him on the shoulder before beginning to order Liane about.  The maid dashed off instantly, always eager to useful.

“
That
’
s
really why you came is it?
”
Lachlan growled.

“
No, I didn
’
t know she was sick-
”

“
-to give your version of mother
’
s lecture?
”
Lachlan interrupted harshly.  Bridghe paused in what she was doing and placed her hands on her hips.  She gave him such a look that Lachlan felt quite contrite. 
“
Sorry, Bridghe,
”
he mumbled.