The Draig's Woman (26 page)

Chapter 25

Claire pulled away from the hands that held her down, and a scream strained to be released but caught in her throat as panic filled her from head to toe. There was only panic and pain, and the pain was everywhere. It was the agony that slowed her movements and forced her to look at the attacker.

“Claire, please, child, see me,” Neala said. “You are safe now, ‘tis Neala by your side.”

The nightmare faded slowly as the room came into focus.
Neala.
She was with Neala and not in the forest.
Where am I?

Claire looked around with the only eye that seemed to work and saw the familiar walls of her chamber. The dim light from the small window showed the first light of a new day. Relief flooded through her as her hands moved freely to touch the side of her face. She winced as she explored the swelling and then sighed with relief as Neala placed a cool, scented cloth against the injury.

“Shhhh, child. There are fine herbs mixed with the cool water, and the swelling should ease in a few days.” Neala reached to take a cup from the bedside table. “Here now, drink this. There are other healing herbs mixed in the water. It will dull the pain and help you rest.”

She took small sips of the drink. “Thank you, but it tastes horrible.” The energy expended to rise up enough to drink then sink back to the pillows left her drained. She fought the wave of dizziness and nausea that accompanied the herculean task and suddenly remembered what had happened. “Hagan. Where’s Hagan?”

“Dinna fash yourself, child. Hagan is safely tucked in his chamber with Aliana by his side. His wounds have been cleaned and stitched with no sign of fever. He will be fine.”

Claire closed her eyes, comforted by the words. Her attempt to shift into a more comfortable position was stopped by the pain in her left hand. The bandage that covered her hand left her stunned.

“That has been stitched as well. And you have no sign of fever, either. With rest, child, you should heal.” Neala touched the fingertips on the bandaged hand. “Can you feel this?” Neala smiled as Claire nodded. “‘Tis fine. You will bear a scar but should still have use of the hand. As for the rest of you, all your wounds have been cleaned and bandaged. None other required stitching, just simple care.” Neala stepped away from the bedside to ask someone in the corridor to bring in some food.

“Thank you, Neala. I’m sure you did a great job.” Claire felt a surge of panic.
“The child, Neala, did I lose the baby?” It had been for the baby that she had found the strength to fight. “My stomach hurts.”

“For now the bairn is safe. You have been through a verra large ordeal. I dinna ken if you . . .” Claire looked away as Neala faltered in her statement. “You have been through much. With rest and care, hopefully all will be fine.” Neala sat on the bedside. “Child, forgive the question, I simply need to be aware if you require more care. Did they hurt you?”

Claire immediately knew what Neala asked. “No, Neala. I know what you’re asking and Nolen did not . . . I was able to stop him.”

It was close, too close.
Even now she could feel him, smell him.

“I want a bath, Neala.”

Chastising her request, Neala said, “Nay yet. Your wounds need a bit more time to heal. Soon, I promise.” Again Neala reached to touch her cheek. “Forgive me, child. I did nay mean to bring foul thoughts to mind.”

Lifting the blankets to peer at her battered parts, she was relieved to find no dirt or mud. “You’ve already cleaned me up.” Claire’s mind recognized this would keep infection away, yet was somewhat embarrassed at being so meticulously cared for in her sleep.

Neala’s reply was matter-of-fact. “Aye, we did. ‘Tis the best manner to prevent fever.”

She was never going to ask how many people “we” represented. “I’d like something to wear please, Neala.” The idea of lying in bed, naked and dependent, left her too vulnerable. There were cuts and bruises she did not want to see. With care, the shift found its way over her head. Claire sat back against the pillows and waited for the spinning and the pain to stop. Relief came again as a fresh cloth was placed over her swollen face.

Neala turned to call out entry to the knock at the door.

Aware that her now blind side prevented any view of who was entering her chamber, she gave a small smile as Finella stood at the foot of the bed. It touched her deeply that Finella came to see her. The concern was clear in the old woman’s gaze and the kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be fine, Finella, but I don’t think I can eat all of that.”

Finella simply said, “Eat, Claire.” She left as quickly as she had entered.

“I’m not really hungry.”

Armed with a spoon full of broth, Neala spoke, “It has been two days, child. You need to eat.”

As Claire’s mouth opened to gape and question the statement, the spoon found its entry.

“What do you mean two days? It’s early morning.”

“‘Tis early morning, child. You did nay wake at all the day before this one. For two nights you have slept. Dinna fret this. The sleep was needed for you to begin healing. In truth, it allowed us to tend your wounds without you being aware of the task. ‘Tis a blessing.”

Claire grumbled. “Somehow I don’t feel blessed, Neala.” She winced as the sip of broth brought discomfort.

“I believe you, child.” Neala continued to help her eat and then offered her some goat’s milk to mask the herbs mixed within.

“I can still taste them, Neala.”

“Forgive the flavor, but they are needed.”

“I trust you.” That was the simple truth. Of all the people Claire had met and known, Neala was one she trusted completely. She realized she hadn’t asked for any details of what had happened, and a small burst of fear filled her heart. “I forgot to ask. What happened here? Did we come in time? Is everyone safe?”

“Shhhh now, child.” Neala answered the question, “All is well for the moment. Tavis is locked within a chamber, and his men are also under heavy guard. You arrived in time. No one here came to any harm.”

“That’s it?”

“There are matters that still need to be sorted out, child. Lachlan is trying to maintain some order in all of this.” Neala answered her confusion, “The Campbell Laird, I should say. He and his daughter, Dedre, arrived shortly after you left to bear witness to the marriage.”

Claire remembered Hagan had wanted to invite the local lairds for the wedding. She sighed as she thought about how long ago that all seemed, that morning by Ian’s side.

“‘Twas Lachlan who caught you in the hall as you collapsed. He carried you here so I could tend you. He kept Ian from killing Tavis and his men.” Neala smiled and patted her good hand. “Lachlan wishes to speak with you when you are ready. There are many questions on his mind.”

Claire knew what was not being said. “Lachlan does not believe what Hagan and I said in the hall, does he?” With everything they had gone through, she never dreamed anyone would doubt them.

“I believe he is just trying to be careful. Dinna fash yourself. All here have faith in what you and Hagan say.” Claire saw the woman’s smile as her eyes grew heavy. “More rest now, child. ‘Tis the best thing for you.”

In a voice slurring with coming sleep, she said, “Mairi had no part in this. Did we say that part? Does everyone know? Is Mairi safe?”

Neala’s voice became distant as the herbs worked within her. “Aye, child. Hagan spoke the same words last eve. Mairi is well and unharmed. I saw her last eve, and she prays for you.”

Barely aware that someone else had joined them, the light from the corridor was the only clue that the door had opened. Claire knew immediately that Ian had entered the chamber. Her good eye was too stubborn to open as she spoke. “I’m telling . . . the . . . truth. Tell Hagan . . . I’ll be . . . ready to . . . go . . .” Claire’s statement fell away as sleep took hold.

Ian had waited for her to awaken. He had left this chamber only three times in the two long nights that had passed, once to speak with Hagan when he woke, once to bathe per Neala’s command, and this last time to assist in the changing of Hagan’s bandages. He turned, prepared to bark that he had given orders to be fetched when Claire first opened her eyes. The reprimand left his tongue as his mind absorbed what she had spoken. Neala had heard them as well, and her face showed the shock he felt. He sat on her bed, afraid to touch any part of her, lest he cause her pain.
What have I done to make her believe I would ever doubt any words she might speak?
Closing his eyes, he knew what he had done.

“The child does nay mind if her cheek is touched,” Neala said.

Gently he traced the side of Claire’s face, the side not swollen. He had touched her like this too many times to count. He was used to her smile, even when touched in sleep, but now she only turned away from his touch. He placed a kiss on her forehead as his hand brushed the hair away from her face. “Did she speak, Neala?”

“Aye, we spoke briefly. She ate a wee bit, and the herbs put her back to sleep.” Neala studied his reaction. “Claire will heal, Ian. She is strong. I ken what you fear for her. I had the same thoughts. She said ‘nay.’ Nolen did nay rape her.”

Ian felt his head fall back, though be it from relief or shame, he could not tell. He was grateful that there was one less hurt to heal. Yet he was filled with guilt that he had put Claire on the path that led to this. So many wrongs had led to her being attacked. His mind could not grasp the action that could have prevented all.

“Did she say anything else?” He had no idea what he truly wished to hear.

“In truth, our talk was simple. I let her ken all here were safe. That was her true concern. There was talk of how she was cared for and how her wounds were treated. She ate a wee bit for me after Finella brought her tray. The herbs did their work and put her to sleep. Though I will add she was surprised their tale was doubted.”

“There is no doubt here, Neala. However, Lachlan is correct. We need hard proof before we kill another laird. Unfortunately ‘tis no simple matter. What happens will affect his clan and all those dependent on him.”

“I had never considered such matters. Ian, she will sleep the better part of the day. Mayhap now is a fine time for you to rest.” Neala kenned he had not slept since Claire and Hagan had come back. She had at least napped in the chair. “Both of them will need you to be strong as they recover.”

As usual, the women in his life were wise. The days ahead could prove to be long and difficult. Moving to the fire, he picked up a chair and placed it next to the bed. “I will sleep by her side. Go to your bed, Neala. You will hear from me if you are needed.” He took Claire’s uninjured hand in his own. “Thank you for your care of Claire and Hagan. ‘Tis my belief your hand is what has kept fever away.”

“They are two people I care for deeply. No care is too great for either. But I will take your offer of some sleep. The next few days could be long.”

Chapter 26

One eye opened slowly to take in the chamber. The light from the window showed strong and bright and led Claire to believe it was late afternoon. The murmur of voices by the door was the reason she woke up. Never could she remember having to pee so badly. Trying to think, the last time she recalled doing such a thing was in the woods before the attack, and that couldn’t be good. This thought brought to mind questions about the care given to her while unconscious. Quickly, she decided never to ask. As she sat up, the pain, masked by the dizziness, caused her to stumble from the bed.

“What is wrong with you, get back into that bed now!” Aliana’s voice boomed through her aching head.

“Not so loud, please.” She was unable to say more as the other woman ran from the open door to wrap Claire in a gentle hug.

“My poor, cousin. How you must hurt. Do you ken you have my thanks for bringing Hagan home to me? For saving Cerwyn and us all? “Aliana sobbed and drowned out the ability to say more.

Claire pleaded, “Aliana, you have to stop crying. Please, I can’t hold you up any longer.”

With a look of surprise, Aliana blurted out, “Oh, forgive me. I lost myself for a moment.” Straightening, Aliana’s gaze took in the wounded woman before her. “You should be in bed, come now and back in.”

“I will happily climb back in after a trip down the hall. Do you see my robe anywhere?”

Aliana took the requested item from the chest and helped her to put it on. “Aye, Claire, get used to many trips down the hall. ‘Tis the way of things for you now.” Aliana rubbed her showing belly. “I will go with you. Now that you speak of it, I also have a need.”

Saying it out loud for the first time, Claire said quietly, “Aliana, I’m having some strange pain. Neala’s not sure if I will keep the baby.”

“Mayhap in this Neala is wrong. You are strong. Let us nay speak of what we dinna ken for certain. For now, I will see you down the corridor.”

The journey down the corridor to the garderobe had never seemed so long. The movement, while horribly uncomfortable, was not unmanageable. Claire knew the aches and pains would fade in time. Accomplishing this small task gave her faith that her body would heal. As for the rest, time would tell.

While she waited for Aliana to finish, Claire was not surprised to be faced with Neala.

“You should have called for me. ‘Tis far too soon for you to be out of bed. ‘Tis a very foolish thing for you to have done.” The disapproval on Neala’s face was clear for any to see.

“Neala, I’m all right. Honestly it felt good to move a bit. Besides Aliana was with me.” Claire tried to smile through wounded features as the other woman emerged from the garderobe.

Neala’s comment lost its sharp tone. “And aren’t you two a fine pair, one barely able to stand and the other rounding with child. Seriously, do you think Aliana would be able to catch you if you fall? Rest in bed is what you need to protect the bairn you carry. Heed me in this, child.”

She instinctively knew Neala spoke only from concern. She reached to take the housekeeper’s outstretched hand. “I’m sorry. I was very careful, and getting up is probably good for me, well, maybe it is. I’ll go back to bed now, okay?” The truth was the exertion had left her a bit weak. The small sharp pain was back in her abdomen, not to mention her head swam with every step. Neala held her firmly to her side as they walked. “Wait. Is Hagan awake? I would really like to see him.”

Aliana answered as they walked, “Nay, Claire. My husband spent some time speaking with Lachlan. He just ate and drank the vile herbs Neala made for him. Hagan will sleep for some time now. But he wishes to see you when you are able.”

Claire remarked that she understood the vile part and the coma-like sleep that followed but made sure to acknowledge her appreciation for the care, bad taste or not. Neala looked as tired as she felt. So did Aliana. It was obvious the two had been busy.

Entering her chamber again, the bed beckoned until the smell of food caught her attention.

“I saw that, child. Into the bed and the tray is yours.” Neala smiled. “A strong appetite is a fine sign of recovery.”

Now propped up, Aliana arranged pillows for Claire’s back as Neala covered her legs with the bedding. The attention seemed a bit smothering. “You both can stop now, I’m comfortable.” She released a soft chuckle as the other two women halted their movements. “Food please.”

“You are fortunate to be able to eat. Even now my food sits poorly some days,” Aliana said.

Is being able to eat a bad sign?
The pains in her abdomen, while not consistent, were enough to make her wonder if this new life stood a chance. Claire was pleased to have Neala disturb her thoughts.

“Child, if you are well enough, Lachlan wishes to speak with you. If it were up to me, you would be given many days to gather your strength before speaking of what befell you while traveling.” Neala shook her head in disgust.

I might as well get it over with. There is nothing to hide.

“I understand, Neala. When does Lachlan want to speak?”

Aliana answered the question. “If you are able, now is fine. I will fetch him from the hall. Lachlan is a fine man, you will like him.”

After Aliana left, Neala continued, “She speaks true. He is a fine man and a good laird. I will stay while he talks to you. If you become tired or dinna wish to continue, say it and I will send him away.”

“I guess that explains why I’m in bed still wearing my robe.” Claire eyed Neala as the tray was removed.

“Aye, child.” Neala nodded with approval at the food eaten and wrung a cloth in the herbed water bowl. “Lie back until he arrives. This is still needed for the swelling.”

Soothing was the only word in her mind. She hoped the swelling would go down soon. She wanted to be able to see out of both eyes again. Grateful for no mirror, she could only imagine how black and blue it must appear.

The sound of a man clearing his throat pulled her out of a doze.

She was aware that someone stood by the bed, but her head couldn’t turn to see the visitor. “If you would please come to the other side of the bed where I can see you, this will be much easier.”

She knew this stranger must be Lachlan. He was tall, maybe six feet, with gray hair peppered into the dark. He wore a full beard, but it was trimmed and clean. His age was hard to guess. She assumed mid-forties. His blue eyes were light and clear with small smile lines around them. While not as big as Ian, it was obvious Lachlan was in good shape and strong.

His voice was smooth, deep, and clear. “I am Lachlan, Laird of the Campbell clan. My thanks for agreeing to speak with me, Claire.”

She looked up into his warm face. “Would you mind sitting? It’s a bit uncomfortable to look up at you.” As he moved a chair to the bedside, she decided quickly she liked him.

Lachlan smiled and sat by her side. “I’ve come to ask you a few questions. I would have preferred to only speak with Hagan, but he claims you are the one who told him everything.”

It was hard to miss what he danced around; Lachlan didn’t want to deal with a woman.
Too bad, I don’t really want to deal with this in any shape, way, or form.
“I get it. Ask me what you want to know.”

“I am aware of the tale Hagan tells. I would hear it from you. I have also spoken with Tavis. Shall we say the two tales told differ greatly?”

Claire’s reply halted as the door slammed open. While she couldn’t see him, Ian’s voice boomed with anger. “I thought I made it clear the lass was nay to be disturbed.”

For the first time, she was grateful for the swollen eye. She didn’t want to see Ian. Now she was just “the lass,” no name, just “the lass.” She struggled to ignore Ian, his presence in the room, his smell, and the fresh pain in her heart. “It’s fine.”

Lachlan apparently wasn’t going to be stopped by Ian. “Claire was awake and agreed to this, Ian. Please either sit or leave. There are things I would ask. The fates of at least two clans lie in the truth.”

Ian sat in the chair by the bed on her blind side. She thought he had been there that morning but tossed the notion aside as wishful thinking. Claire continued where they had started. “You said the stories had differences, Lachlan. That much I can believe. I’ll admit there is probably some truth in what Tavis said.” Claire tried not to focus on Lachlan’s wandering gaze, too aware that the man eyed every injury visible.

“‘Tis my understanding Laird Tavis’s man, Nolen, told you a great deal. There is also the claim that Tavis’s men attacked you and Hagan as you traveled home to Douglas lands. Hagan told us his version, and I would hear yours.”

Claire was only going to relive this attack once and then hopefully forget it all. It would be done completely with nothing left out. She took a deep breath for focus and began with the books. That was the true beginning. She explained the accounts and the unaccounted dower lands. The reason of her departure was left out. This man didn’t need to hear about her heartache. “We had stopped to eat something, it was past midday . . .”

Ian took in every word Claire spoke and noted the calm tone of her voice. He listened as she talked of stepping into the woods alone
.
He knew full well how she hated taking care of her needs in this manner. His pulse quickened as she described the sound of swords alerting her to the danger and the chase given by the first man and his subsequent quick death. Ian felt the blow to the head as she described it. The bruises on her delicate wrists were explained as his heart pounded in his chest. Nolen spoke his confession through her voice, the plan to destroy life there. He was amazed at how she remembered it all so clearly, even the details of how many men guarded the mines. Claire needed to be sure all understood Mairi was innocent. He was aware that details were left out of her tale, as the shallow cuts and bruising to her body had not been explained.

Ian felt his breath stop as she spoke of the knot in Nolen’s trews. His eyes locked on his bootlaces as that night danced through his thoughts. So many ways he had failed her, failed to keep his word. He found rage to be a better companion than guilt.
How dare the bastard touch her!
He wished Nolen were still alive so that he could kill him with his bare hands.

Laird Lachlan interrupted the tale. “So this is when Hagan found you? I would also never hesitate to a kill a man who had dared to attack a woman of my clan.”

Claire continued. “No, Lachlan. I didn’t know if Hagan was even alive. Nolen led me to believe he was dead.”

Ian felt his loins tighten as Claire described the move used on Nolen. Her hands showed how she pulled her body over the sword. There was little satisfaction with the quick manner of Nolen’s death. He wished the man had suffered for days.

“This is when Hagan found me. I told him everything. We wrapped our wounds and came back.” Claire leaned back against the pillows as the tale finished. “I believe I owe you my thanks for catching me in the hall the other night.”

“No thanks is needed, lass. I am grateful to have been able to prevent you more hurt.”

Neala’s voice came from near the fireplace. “‘Tis enough for now. The poor child is tired, and she must rest.” At the comment, Lachlan rose from the chair and gave Claire a slight nod of thanks.

“Do you believe me?”

Lachlan stopped his walk to the door. “Your story is the same as Hagan’s. Though I will not lie to you, I am nay quite sure who to believe. Tavis tells a tale involving . . . Well, let us say the man tells a different tale.”

“Laird Lachlan, serve Tavis his ale. Then you can tell me who you believe,” Claire replied.

The Campbell’s voice strong and clear, “‘Tis exactly what Hagan suggested. Neala, do you ken where it is?”

“Finella has it stored beneath the kitchen, per Tavis’s request. It should all still be sealed,” Claire added.

“Mayhap you are right. Come, Ian, let us go fetch the man a drink.”

Ian rose from the chair beside her bed. He only wanted to stay with her, a chance to speak with her. Much was left unsaid between them, and there was much to fix. After all she had been through, Ian owed her that. If the ale were truly poisoned, as he believed, he would watch Tavis die. He would see this through to the end, for Claire’s sake.

As he reached to close the door to her chamber, Neala fussed over her comfort. A cup of healing herbs was quickly drained. Ian knew she would sleep again, and then he would return.

Ian sat again by Claire’s side, this time in the chair Lachlan had earlier occupied. The hour was late, yet sleep would not be found. He was afraid that she would not wake again that night, and he had already missed the last time her eyes opened. Neala had been shaken when she left the chamber a short time before and only stated that Claire had pain and that a change in the herbs had been made. Ian could only wonder what would cause Neala to change her course of care. The housekeeper would give no details other than pain.

He waited for her to wake, to tell her that Tavis was no more. His death had been slow and painful. Ian’s mind raced with thoughts that this fate was almost his and that of all he was sworn to protect.

On the morrow, Ian and Lachlan would ride out to take back what was his. With help from the Campbell and his men, the mines would again be in the possession of the Draig clan. He wanted to tell her this, how he would avenge this wrong. More than that, he wished to speak with her to find a way to repair the hurt between them. This hurt that had been caused by his deeds.

Ian’s mind only saw the night he told Claire to leave. The hurt on her face, even the memory, was a knife to his chest. He felt the moment his soul died as the cursed words left his mouth. Her hand had slapped away his offer of help as she stumbled in their chamber. Tears had streaked her sweet face at the betrayal of her love. He was haunted by the vision of her fading from sight on horseback.
How does one make such a wrong disappear? What amends could ever erase such pain? Such weakness?