My Laird's Love (My Laird's Castle Book 2) (9 page)

“What do ye say, Mistress Scott?”

The sound of my name snapped me out of my reverie and into the present...or the past.

James looked at me expectantly. It had been his voice I heard.

“I’m sorry. I missed that. What were you asking?”

“I thought ye must have been daydreaming,” James said, a half smile on his lips. “Aunt Edith asked if ye wished to take a walk along the shore afore supper. Colin and Beth will accompany us.”

“Oh, sure!” I said. I had been sitting for the better part of two hours, and a walk sounded like a good idea. I tried to push myself off the couch. Somehow though, I pressed down on the pannier, and I toppled back the few inches I gained.
 

Beth’s face crinkled into an expression of laughter, and she reached for me, but James beat her to it, and taking both of my hands, he pulled me to my feet.

When I came upright, I over-rotated, and James steadied me as I almost toppled onto his chest. I looked up at him and noted the corners of his handsome mouth lifting. To his credit, he did not laugh, but Beth put a hand over her mouth, and Colin turned away discreetly.

Aunt Edith, bustling out the door to see to supper, missed the episode.
 

“Thank you,” I said with an embarrassed laugh. “I’m not used to the pannier.”
 

James’ eyes widened.

“Oh, I shouldn’t say pannier? Hoops? No? Well, you know what I mean.” I lowered my voice and leaned in. “Does your aunt know about me?”

James took my hand and laid it on his arm, drawing me from the room.

“No, she disna, and she wouldna understand. It is best we say naethin. Ye will find Aunt Edith a verra affable sort of woman. She disna look for what isna there. She willna say anything if ye were to struggle out of yer seat again, but would only reach out to help ye.”

“Yes, I imagine she would. She seems very sweet.”

“Aye, she is sweet as hinnie.”
 

I didn’t quite know what that meant, but I assumed it was a compliment.

James led us from the room, and we retraced our steps and descended the stairs, but instead of heading directly down to the area where the boat had landed, we turned at the base of the castle to follow the green lawn to the far side of the structure. There, the lawn fell away to the shoreline. James helped me negotiate the uneven terrain until we reached the beach. Then he locked his hands behind him and walked by my side.
 

Colin and Beth strolled alongside us, precluding any personal conversation between James and me, and I really didn’t know what to say. The afternoon sun draped the surrounding hills in a soft lavender hue, and the loch, quiet and still, reflected their color. White birds floated near the shore, dipping their heads into the water for an occasional morsel or two.

At some point, I fell into step with Beth while Colin and James, walking ahead, chatted about the fishing in the loch. I studied both men—tall, handsome, the cloth of their kilts swaying at the backs of their legs.
 

I noted that James reached a hand to his hip or his stomach on more than one occasion, and I wondered why. Had he injured himself? At Culloden? I hadn’t noticed him favoring his hip before.

After about an hour, we returned to the castle, and I noted a sheen of sweat on James’ forehead. He pursed his lips as if he controlled his breathing. I sidled up to him as we followed the butler toward the great room.

“James, are you all right? Are you in pain?”

James, seemingly startled by my words, drew himself up and shook his head.

“Nay, is naethin. Just a twinge.”

I couldn’t ask more before we stepped into a high-ceiling room where Aunt Edith awaited us. My eye was immediately drawn to still more colorful tapestries festooning the stone walls. Much like the great room at Gleannhaven Castle, heavy oak timbers highlighting the ceiling matched the wooden mantelpiece over the massive fireplace and the large table now set for supper.

Aunt Edith positioned us with James at the head of the table, me at his left and Beth at his right. She seated herself next to me and across from Colin.

The butler oversaw the two serving girls who set out platters of food. I watched the girls, wondering if they lived in the castle or in some nearby village.

The tall blonde named Morna, who had served us tea earlier, looked particularly thin. She seemed to notice me watching them, and she lifted her head to look at me. Red-rimmed eyes regarded me with curiosity.

Self-consciously, I put a hand to my hair. Was my hair hanging down my back? Was it that obvious that I didn’t belong? Did I look out of place?
 

The butler stepped forward and whispered something in her ear, an act that galvanized her into motion. She dropped her eyes, and along with the shorter dark-haired servant, she left the room. The butler remained behind.

The food looked delicious, although I didn’t recognize much of it. The night before, Beth had taken the liberty of explaining much of what was on the table at Gleannhaven Castle. Some of it I had recognized, and Beth noted that she had taught their cook to prepare a few things that she liked. I hadn’t eaten much that night, nor did it appear as if I would tonight. I had very little appetite, frankly, and I munched on an oatcake.
 

“Surely that isna all ye’re going to eat, dearie, is it?” Aunt Edith asked. I was afraid she would notice my lack of appetite. “Are ye feeling unwell?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you. I just don’t seem to be very hungry this evening. I’m so sorry. Everything looks so lovely!” That I had been invited to dinner and failed to have an appetite was unforgiveable, I knew, but I couldn’t very well force the food down.

“Are ye sure ye’re nae taking ill?” James asked as he set his fork down and studied me.

“Maggie?” Beth chimed in.

“No, I feel fine. I really do. Could I have some of the soup?”

“The tattie-broth?” Aunt Edith asked, her look of concern easing. “Aye, of course.” She ladled some of the soup into my bowl, and I dug in, trying to do the tasty soup justice.

“Delicious!” I said, hoping to appease everyone and turn the attention from me. Aunt Edith looked satisfied enough, as did Beth. James continued to watch me, and I looked down at my bowl until he returned his attention to his food and the conversation at the table.

The sheen of sweat remained on his forehead, and I wondered if he was coming down with something.

I listened to Beth, Colin, Aunt Edith and James discuss the vagaries of the late spring weather in the Highlands, the aggravation of the continuing presence of the English soldiers and the whereabouts of the Bonnie Prince who had apparently escaped to France last year.

I watched the foursome while I ate, especially James. He winced when he thought no one was looking and moved a hand to his left side, where he appeared to be pressing hard, as one does when in pain. He looked up at me, and I dropped my eyes, as if I’d seen nothing.

After a few seconds, I looked up again. His eyebrows were drawn together, and deep lines appeared at the corner of his mouth. Yes, he was definitely in pain. If anyone looked ill, it was James.

“James, are you all right?” I asked, this time in front of everyone.

He gave me a startled look and dropped his hand.

“Aye, I feel well, thank ye.”

“James?” Aunt Edith asked sharply. “I ken ye too well, my boy. What ails ye?”

James shook his head. Underneath the sheen of sweat on his forehead, his normally tanned skin paled.
 

“It is naethin,” he said briefly. “A pain, no more.”

At that moment, James gasped and clutched at his side. I jumped up, as did the others at the table. Not wanting to crowd him, I stood back as his aunt and Beth bent over him.

“I think I will just go lie down,” James said. He pushed back his chair and stood, seemingly dizzy, his left hand clutching his groin.

He grabbed at the edge of the table with his free hand but was unable to stop his fall. Neither Aunt Edith nor Beth could catch him in time. I pushed away from the table and ran around to him.

Chapter Eight

The butler ran forward. Robbie barked. General chaos ensued as everyone simultaneously rushed to James’ side. Slumped on the carpeted floor, he appeared to be unconscious. I hadn’t heard a heavy thud, so I didn’t think he’d hit his head hard enough to knock him out. I hovered over the scene as Aunt Edith and Colin crouched down near James’ face. As much as I wanted to cradle James in my arms, I deferred to his aunt. That was her place, not mine.
 

“James! James!” Aunt Edith cried out, running her hands over his face.

“He appears to have fainted,” Colin said. “Do ye have a doctor?”

“Aye, Dr. McDougall. Bracken!” she called over her shoulder. “Send a lad for the doctor!”

“Aye, mistress.” Bracken hurried from the room.

“Is James prone to such fits?” Colin asked.

“Nay, never!” Aunt Edith said. “He has the constitution of a horse! I canna think what ails him.”

“He grabbed at his lower abdomen,” I said in a small voice.

Beth, standing near me, spoke.

“Yes, I saw that too.”

Bracken returned.

“The lad has gone to fetch the doctor.”

“Good! Please help Laird Anderson carry Master James upstairs,” Aunt Edith said. Between them, Colin and the butler picked James up and shuffled through the door. Aunt Edith followed. Robbie ran up the stairs behind them. Beth grabbed my arm, and we trailed everyone up the steep, winding steps of the castle, lit by the occasional wall sconce.

I was thankful that Beth had pulled me along, because I wasn’t about to let James disappear from my sight. The group ahead stopped at the first landing on the stairs, and we followed them down a narrow corridor toward a room. A length of dark-red carpet ran down the hallway, warming what was an otherwise cool part of the castle. Again, candles in two wall sconces provided some lighting.

Bracken and Colin carried the still-unconscious James into the room and laid him on a bed. Colin loosened James’ cravat while Bracken removed his boots. Aunt Edith hovered over them. Beth and I watched from a position by the door. I barely noticed that Robbie snuck under the bed.

“Do you have any medical training, Maggie?” Beth whispered into my ear.

I shook my head, biting down on my lips to keep from crying. The months of caring for Sam just didn’t count as a degree in medicine.

“No, I wish I did. I know some stuff, but I don’t know what’s wrong with James. This isn’t good, is it? The year. No X-rays, no CT scans. Are the doctors any good?”

“Scottish doctors are the best in the world, but even they don’t have CT scans in 1747. I’m not going to lie. I’m worried about him. I’m worried about me!” She put a protective hand to her stomach.

“Are you pregnant?” I squeaked. “Oh, Beth, congratulations!” I would put a positive spin on her news, no matter what. “Everything is going to be fine!”

She stared at James. “I hope so. Pain is not my thing.”

I sighed heavily but said no more. Surely they had something for the pain of childbirth, even in 1747, didn’t they? I didn’t know, and this probably wasn’t the time to discuss it.

“We can only await the doctor now.” Colin approached us and spoke in a low voice. “Do ye ladies wish to return to the great room to finish yer supper?”

“Not a chance,” Beth whispered. “We’ll wait here. If the doctor needs us to leave the room, then we will. I know Maggie would want to be as close to James as possible.”

Colin shot me a curious look, and I shrugged, thankful that Beth had balked at leaving.

“Beth is right,” I said. “I want to stay. I don’t know how or why, but James means a great deal to me.”

“Aye, I kent such was the case,” Colin said.
 

“Bracken, please fetch our guests something warm to drink. It is a bit chilly in the master’s room,” Aunt Edith said, turning away from the bed.
 

“Aye, mistress,” Bracken said in a quavering voice. I didn’t know if his voice shook from age or from anxiety. I realized I hadn’t really heard him speak before now. He rushed out of the door.

“I will start a fire,” Colin said as he moved toward several chairs positioned in front of a small fireplace. Beth remained at my side.

“Thank ye, dear,” Aunt Edith said. “I must go down to the kitchen and speak to the servants. They will be worried. There is naethin more I can do here while we await the doctor.”

She shook her head and followed Bracken from the room.

Free to approach James at last, I moved to his bedside and laid my hand against his forehead, as I had done so many times with Sam—checking for fever, for a drop in his temperature, for perspiration. James’ skin, now dry, burned against my touch, and my heart dropped. Whatever was wrong with him clearly involved an infection.
 

“He’s burning up, Beth,” I said, speaking freely as I had not done in front of Aunt Edith. “He’s got an infection of some sort.”

“Oh, no! That’s bad news. They don’t have any antibiotics. I think they use natural herbs for that kind of thing.”