Taming the Highland Bride (14 page)

Still, Merry would have liked to go faster and found her gaze sliding nervously over the dark
shapes surrounding them as they moved. She’d had the uncomfortable feeling that she was being watched as she’d worked to get Alex on his horse, and recalling the figure on the cliff, had kept glancing warily to the trees. But it had slowed her down, and she’d finally forced herself to ignore it and concentrate on what she was doing. Now, however, she eyed the darkness crouching all around her with more than a little anxiety.

She couldn’t get the memory of the grinding sound out of her mind. If it weren’t for that, she could have convinced herself the whole thing had been an accident, but the grinding suggested moving the boulder had been difficult, not a result of someone leaning against it and accidentally sending it plummeting off the cliff. Someone had deliberately pushed it down on Alex. She had no idea why anyone would want to do that, but it seemed to her to be the most logical deduction and raised a wagonload of anxieties and worries in her mind. Why would someone wish to kill Alex? And more importantly, might they still attack now despite her presence? Were she and Alex in danger?

Merry forced herself to take a few deep breaths to steady her nerves, telling herself that if they’d intended to strike with her there they would have done so back in the clearing while she was distracted with trying to get Alex onto his mount. She then concentrated on the dark landscape around her. Merry hadn’t been paying much attention to where Alex had left the woods for the path along the river’s edge, but it didn’t seem to her that they’d ridden along the river for this long on the way to the
clearing. She reminded herself that she was moving much more slowly now than they’d been riding on the way out, but was still starting to worry that she’d ridden right by the path without seeing it.

Merry was just starting to think she should stop and turn back when someone stepped out onto the path before her. She wouldn’t even have seen him in the darkness had a stray ray of moonlight not caught on the sword he carried. Tense as she was, she couldn’t hold back a short shriek of surprise as she yanked on her mare’s reins to draw her to a halt.

“My lady?”

Merry let her breath out on a slow, embarrassed breath as she recognized the voice of her husband’s squire.

“Godfrey,” she breathed with relief.

“Aye, my lady.” He put his sword away and moved up beside her mare’s head. “Why are you alone? Where is—?” The second question ended on a gasp as Godfrey spotted his lord lying over the saddle on the second horse. He was at his lord’s side at once, lifting his head to take in his unconscious face. His voice cracked with alarm as he asked, “What happened?”

“Someone pushed a boulder off the cliff in the clearing where we stopped to bathe,” Merry said bluntly.

“What?” Godfrey asked, turning an alarmed face her way.

She nodded unhappily. “It struck Alex on the shoulder and knocked him down. He hit his head on a rock on the ground when he fell.”

“He is not—?” Godfrey turned back to his lord, hesitating to even speak the fear that the man might be dead.

“Nay, of course not,” Merry said at once, and then quickly dismounted. She joined the boy at her husband’s side to be sure that was true. Alex had been alive when they’d left the clearing, but with head wounds one could not be certain. Thankfully, he was still breathing. His warm breath on her hand when she put it before his face told her that.

Merry let her hand drop and then glanced to Godfrey. “’Tis glad I am ye came along. I was beginnin’ to fear I’d missed the path back to the clearin’.”

“Nay. ’Tis just ahead. You would have seen the fire through the trees in another moment.”

Merry raised an eyebrow at this and asked curiously, “Where were ye headed?”

“To drain the dragon,” he murmured, his distracted gaze still on his lord. Then, realizing what he’d said, he glanced at her quickly. “I mean—”

“’Tis all right,” Merry assured him with the first smile she’d managed since her husband had been knocked unconscious. “I ha’e brothers and they’ve said worse in me presence.”

Godfrey did not look like her reassurance made him feel much better. Merry gave his shoulder a soothing pat and then turned back to gather her mare’s reins in hand. She didn’t ask why he’d had his sword out if he was just going to find a spot to relieve himself. She would have been grateful to have a sword for this ride through the dark woods. It would have eased her fears some, and she suspected that was the reason for it with him. Not wishing to
embarrass him further by making him admit it, she wished him good eve and began to urge the horses forward again, but then glanced to him with surprise when he remained beside her.

“I shall see you safely back,” Godfrey said, his shoulders up and back and his head held high in a fashion she supposed he thought was manly.

“There’s no need to trouble yerself. If ’tis close by I will find it. Ye go on about yer business,” she urged quietly, but wasn’t surprised when he ignored her suggestion and continued at her side.

They’d walked no more than half a dozen steps when Merry spotted the path as well as the glow of firelight through the trees. Another couple of steps and the smell of roasting meat reached her and then they were stepping out of the trees and into the clearing.

Merry’s eyes widened as she glanced around. A lot had been accomplished while she and Alex were by the waterfall. The horses were all tended, several rabbits had been caught and now roasted over the fire, and a tent now stood on the far side of the open area. Her eyes widened further with surprise at the luxury of a tent and then moved over the men who had all suddenly stopped moving and were now peering back as wide-eyed as she was. And then everyone started moving and talking at once.

Merry took a step back at the confusion of questions suddenly shot at her. It was a relief when Gerhard suddenly came from the side, his voice louder and carrying more authority than the others as he asked, “What happened?”

“I believe someone pushed a boulder down on
Alex after we finished bathing,” Merry admitted as he lifted Alex’s head to peer at his face. She then explained what had taken place before adding, “I didn’t actually see the person push the boulder down, but…” She shrugged unhappily.

Expression grim, Gerhard nodded and released Alex’s head, allowing it to hang down again as he bent to untie the cloth from his hands and feet. Several men stepped forward to help ease Alex off his horse’s back and then they glanced to Gerhard in question.

“The tent,” Merry said before he could respond.

The men immediately moved that way with their lord, and Merry followed.

The soft glow of candlelight filled the tent when they entered, and Una was just straightening from making a bed of furs on the floor. When she turned to find the men carrying an unconscious Alex inside, her eyes widened in surprise and then shot to Merry full of questions.

“I need my medicinals,” Merry said quietly as she waited for the men to set Alex down and get out of her way. Fortunately, they didn’t dally, but filed out of the tent the moment they’d laid her husband down. She immediately knelt at his side, made anxious by how still and pale he was.

“Here.”

Merry glanced around to see Una holding out her bag of medicinals. Taking it with relief, she opened it to retrieve her various balms and salves.

“Should I be prayin’ that he heals or that he doesna?” Una asked dryly.

The question surprised her, but Merry supposed
it shouldn’t have. She hadn’t exactly been overjoyed about her marriage these last three weeks, and on her wedding night the answer would have been a simple one:
Pray he dies and frees me of this marriage.
But things had changed. Merry found she quite liked this man, and—given the chance—thought she might just come to love him…and she had promised to give their relationship a chance.

Letting her breath out slowly, Merry nodded. “Pray he heals.”

“I kenned it.”

Merry noted the slow smile spreading the maid’s lips. Eyes narrowing suspiciously, she asked, “Kenned what?”

“Ye’re fallin’ in love with him.”

Merry stiffened at once. “I—”

“Oh, doona bother denyin’ it. I’ve watched ye watchin’ him these last weeks. He may drink a wee bit at night and slur his words, but he’s naught like yer father and brothers. The man is a man. He doesna shrug his responsibilities and leave them to ye to carry. He’s fair with his people, and cares about them, and that shows in all he does.” She nodded solemnly, and patted her shoulder. “No one’s perfect, and he’s a good man despite his drinking. He’ll treat ye right.”

The words had barely left her lips when the tent flap opened and Gerhard ducked inside.

“How is he?” the soldier asked.

“Still unconscious,” Merry answered grimly as she returned to sorting through her medicinals, searching for something that might be of use. She had salve that would soothe the soreness of his
shoulder and encourage it to heal, but was more concerned with the head wound. Unfortunately, there was little she could do for that but keep a cold compress on it to try to keep the swelling down. The rest was up to Alex.

Alex was beginning to think that he might be cursed. He’d been plagued by headaches for the last three weeks. Most mornings he woke up with a dull throb at the back of his head. Of course, none of them had been as bad as the headache that had woken him the afternoon of his tooth pulling when he’d downed a pitcher of whiskey…until now. The headache that greeted him when he woke up and forced his eyes open in the tent was easily as bad as that one, but this time it was centered on the left front side of his head, and it was bad enough to force a low groan of pain from him as he squinted his eyes closed, trying to force the pain back.

“Ye’re awake.”

That brilliant bit of deduction sounded like it came from his wife’s sweet lips and made him blink his eyes open again to find her bending over him. He scowled when he got a look at her, not because of the relieved expression on her face, but because of the dark circles under her eyes.

Alex was about to ask why she looked so weary when a rustle drew his gaze past her to see that they were in his travel tent. He didn’t normally bother with it when he traveled on his own, but had decided to bring it to make the trip more bearable for his wife. That thought spurred his memory, making him recall the journey that day, taking Merry to the
waterfall, and all that had followed. Including the boulder crashing down toward him.

“How diya feel?” Merry repeated. He was a tad surprised to hear the amount of concern in her voice. While they had got along relatively well since consummating the wedding last night, the three weeks before that had been somewhat difficult, and he wouldn’t have been surprised had she treated him more cavalierly instead of sounding like she cared.

“My head hurts,” he said honestly and then asked, “What time is it?”

“Near dawn, I think,” Merry answered, her gaze moving to the open tent flap and the grey light of predawn visible outside. She then suddenly turned away to pick up something. When she turned back he saw that it was a mug of liquid. She slipped an arm beneath his head and used it to help lever him up and then held the mug to his lips, promising, “’Twill help with yer poundin’ head.”

Alex hesitated, but then opened his mouth to allow some of the brew to slip inside. A grimace immediately tried to claim his lips, and he had a very strong urge to push the drink away, but he resisted and drank as much as he could before his stomach threatened to rebel. He then raised a hand to let her know it was enough, relieved when she immediately removed the mug and eased him back to lie down.

Alex did grimace now, his lips working and tongue rubbing itself against his teeth and palate in an effort to scrub away the awful taste coating it.

“’Tis vile, I ken, but ’twill help,” Merry said sympathetically.

Alex merely nodded and closed his eyes, waiting
for the pounding in his head to ease. If Merry’s medicinal was anything like Bet’s, Alex knew it should begin to work after a quarter hour or so. And it certainly tasted as vile as Bet’s so should work, he thought with disgust, and wondered why things that were said to be good for you always tasted so horrible.

The moments passed slowly for Alex. He had several questions he’d have liked to ask, but his mind was taken up with the pain consuming him and he kept his mouth shut. A long time seemed to pass before he became aware that Merry was running her fingers soothingly over the uninjured side of his brow. When he noticed that, Alex knew the brew was starting to work. He blinked his eyes cautiously open then, relieved when the pain didn’t ratchet back up, and then released a small breath and closed them for another few minutes. When he began to be aware of a need to relieve himself, however, he decided it was time to get up.

“What are ye doin’?” Merry asked with dismay when he started to sit up. “Lie back down, ye’ve had an awful blow to the head and been unconscious all night. Ye need to lie still and let yer body recover.”

“As you just said, I have been unconscious all night. ’Tis plenty of recovery time. Now I need to get up and about,” he said firmly.

“Ye’ve no business being up and about,” she snapped, placing her hands on his shoulders and pushing in an effort to force him back into a supine position. Much to his amazement, the action worked, and Alex found himself collapsing back onto the linens and furs he lay on. The fact that he was so
weak, however, merely made him more determined to get up, and he immediately started trying to rise again. His wife merely kept her hands on his chest, holding him in place. Disgusted by his own weakness, he admitted, “I need to relieve myself.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip and glanced around, and then brightened and peered down at the mug in her hand. “Mayhap ye could—”

“Do not even suggest it,” Alex said grimly, positive she was going to say he should relieve himself into the mug rather than get up. He might be weak, but it would be a cold day in hell before he would willingly do something like that.

Merry set the mug aside, then scowled at him and bit out impatiently, “Verra well, I’ll ha’e to help ye then.”