CHAPTER 24

Keeley awoke feeling like she was trapped under a boulder. Even breathing hurt. Her head was so heavy she couldn’t lift it, and she positively rattled when she tried to draw in air.

She opened her mouth, but her lips were cracked and her tongue was so dry it felt as though she rubbed it across sand.

Then she made the mistake of trying to move.

She whimpered and tears welled in her eyes. How could she feel so miserable? What had happened to her? She was never ill. She prided herself on being hale and hearty.

“Keeley, love, don’t cry.”

Alaric’s usually soothing, deep timbred voice, crackled over her ears like the sound of swords clashing.

Her vision blurred by tears, she could barely make out the outline of his face as he peered over her.

“Sick,” she croaked.

“Aye, lass, I know you’re ailing.”

“Never sick.”

He leaned in closer and smiled. “You are now.”

“Ask Maddie for the paste for my chest. ’Twill lessen some of the rattle and discomfort.”

Alaric slid his palm over her cheek, and his skin felt so cool against her burning face that she nuzzled and rubbed back and forth.

“Not to worry. Maddie has already been in your chamber three times this morning. She’s clucking like a mother hen. Mairin has been forbidden access, and she’s voicing her displeasure to anyone within hearing distance.”

Keeley tried to smile, but it hurt too much.

“Hungry,” she complained.

“Gertie is bringing you some broth.”

She blinked to try and bring Alaric’s face further into focus, but he was still blurry around the edges. But she could see his eyes. His beautiful, crystal green eyes.

She sighed. “I love your eyes.”

He grinned and she blinked in surprise.

“Did I say that aloud?”

“Aye, you did,” he said in a tone heavy with amusement.

“Am I still gripped with fever? ’Tis the only explanation for my wayward tongue.”

“Aye, the fever still rages high within you.”

She frowned. “But I’m no longer cold. The sign of a fever ’tis a chill. I find I’m overhot.”

“Your flesh still burns and your eyes are dull. ’Tis a good sign I’m told that you are not racked by chills any longer, but you are sick still.”

“I don’t like being ill.”

She knew she sounded like a petulant child, but she couldn’t control the urge to sulk. She was used to tending the ill, not joining their ranks.

Alaric grinned and then pulled her into his arms.

“Why are you tending me?” she asked, her voice muffled by his chest. “ ’Tis not proper at all.”

“But then we’ve not been very proper together,” he murmured.

She smiled but then sobered. “What will everyone think? Say?”

“If they value their well-being, they’ll say nothing at all. They’ll think what they think. We cannot control that.”

She frowned. He was right. She well knew it. But she also knew that suspicion led to gossip and gossip led to accusations and then action.

He kissed the top of her head and she closed her eyes against the sweetness of his embrace.

“Ewan will want to know what occurred. Are you feeling well enough to face his questions?”

’Twas the truth she’d rather face an angry mob flinging stones than have to think back over the events with the way her head throbbed and her throat ached. But she also knew that the laird needed to know whatever she could tell him. He had a wife and a child to protect. He had the whole of the clan to protect.

“As long as I have water to sip at, I can speak with the laird.”

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t keep you long,” Alaric soothed.

Just then the door burst open and Maddie stuck her head around the door. Even though the older woman knew of Keeley’s feelings for Alaric, Keeley stiffened and tried to pull away.

Alaric caught her to him and relaxed against the bed as he waited for Maddie to come to them.

“I have hot broth and water. The broth will soothe your sore throat, lass. The water will help the fever I hope. ’Tis important you drink enough.”

Alaric took the steaming broth and carefully put it to Keeley’s lips. “Just sip. ’Tis hot.”

Grateful for the support of his arm, she carefully took a little of the broth into her mouth. She felt as weak as a kitten and would surely have flopped over were it not for Alaric holding her up.

He was infinitely patient, holding the trencher each time she took a bit of the liquid onto her tongue. At first it hurt going down. Her throat felt like it had a thousand scratches in the swollen flesh.

When she could take no more, she leaned back against Alaric’s arm and closed her eyes.

“I’ll be back up in a little while, lass,” Maddie said in hushed tones. “If you have need of anything before that, summon me. I’ll come at once.”

Keeley was barely able to nod. Just consuming the broth had taken all the strength she had. And she still had to speak to the laird.

She closed her eyes and focused on breathing to keep the room from spinning. Alaric pressed his lips to her temple and curled her tighter into his side.

His warmth seeped into her bones and she gave a sigh of contentment. ’Twas the best she’d felt since she’d awakened.

She groaned when a knock sounded at the door. Alaric’s command to enter sounded distant, like he was underwater. Or maybe it was she who was underwater. ’Twas clear that one of them was.

She roused herself when she heard the laird’s quietly voiced question. Then she frowned. Alaric was arguing with his brother. He wanted Ewan to leave her alone and leave the questioning to later.

“Nay, ’tis all right,” she said. Her throat protested the few words, and she put her hand to her neck to massage away the discomfort.

Ewan sat right on the bed at Alaric’s feet, which Keeley thought a bit improper, but he was the laird and as such he could do what he wanted.

Ewan grinned. “Aye, lass, ’tis a perk of being laird. I do get to do what I like.”

“I didn’t mean to say that so loud,” she muttered.

“Are you feeling well enough to tell me what happened in the woods? I’ve spoken to Crispen and the other children, and God’s teeth, but they each give a different accounting.”

She smiled but groaned when it hurt. “I don’t understand why I feel so badly.”

She tried not to sound so cross, but she was sure she failed, judging by the amused looks on Alaric’s and Ewan’s faces.

Ewan’s expression sobered and then he leaned forward. “I feel I’m forever thanking someone for saving my son’s life. ’Tis the truth he seems to find trouble wherever he goes. He told me you fought for him. I owe you a debt that can never be repaid.”

She shook her head drowsily. “Nay. You’ve already repaid it.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you speak of, lass?”

“Your clan,” she said hoarsely. “You made me a member of your clan. ’Tis payment enough.”

Alaric’s arm tightened around her shoulders and he stroked his fingers over her arm in a soothing pattern.

Ewan’s expression softened. “You will have a home here for as long as you wish it. You have my word.”

She licked her cracked lips and burrowed a little closer to Alaric. The chill was returning and already her bones ached.

“I fear I’ll be of no aid to you. It all happened so fast. I know they thought me your lady wife and they were most eager to spirit me away. They called you a fool for leaving Lady McCabe unattended.”

Ewan scowled at that, his face growing as dark as a thundercloud.

“They crowed over the fact that they had managed to capture both your son and wife.”

Ewan leaned forward, his eyes intense. “Did they say anything else? Did they identify themselves? Did you recognize their crest?”

Slowly she shook her head. Then her brows knit together in concentration. “There was one thing. They said that Cameron would reward them handsomely for their bounty. ’Twas all I remember. When they discovered I was not pregnant, they meant to kill me for they realized their error.”

“Mercenaries,” Alaric spat. “Cameron has posted a reward for the capture of Mairin.”

Ewan let loose a string of blasphemies that had Keeley cringing. “There are many men without coin and nothing to lose by attempting to abduct Mairin and my child.”

“If they are mercenaries, they have no clan or keep to call home,” Alaric said. “ ’Tis likely they are still nearby.”

Ewan’s lips curled and his nostrils flared. “Aye. ’Tis time to go hunting.”

“I’ll ready myself to accompany you.”

Ewan paused and then shook his head. He stared down at Keeley and then back up to his brother. “Nay. I need you here. I want you to keep Mairin close. She can busy herself with Keeley. Caelen will accompany me.”

As he rose, he glanced down at Keeley again. He inclined his head in a gesture of respect. “Again, you have my thanks for the life of my son. I hope you are feeling to rights again soon.”

Keeley mumbled something appropriate and fought another yawn as he departed the chamber. ’Twas freezing again and she needed another fur. Why had Alaric taken it from her?

Alaric sank lower into the bed and cuddled her into his embrace. “Never have I been so frightened,” he admitted. “When I heard what had occurred and then I could not find you. ’Tis not a feeling I want to ever have again.”

“I knew you would come.”

“Your faith humbles me.”

She stroked his chest with her fingertips. Someday … Someday he would owe his protection to Rionna. And their children. Keeley would no longer be able to look to him to solve her ills or fight her battles. After so long of fighting her own, it was a wondrous feeling to have a man such as Alaric to stand for her.

“You should rest, Keeley. I can feel the fever burning through you.”

She was already drifting off, cocooned in his heat.

Alaric paced the interior of the hall in darkness. Ewan had taken a contingent of men to track the mercenaries who’d attacked Crispen and Keeley, and it was nearing dawn. They’d been gone for hours and Alaric’s impatience grew with each passing minute.

It angered him to be here when he itched for a fight. He wanted to vent some of the rage that smoldered in his system.

It wasn’t only the fact that these men had dared to touch what he considered his—and Keeley was his—Alaric wanted to let loose his frustration with the fates that would deny him the woman he loved.

Instead he waited for his brothers to return while he kept silent watch over the women of the keep.

He should go back up to look in on Keeley, but Maddie had agreed to stay by her bedside while Alaric stayed belowstairs where he could hear the watchmen cry alarm.

The fire was dying in the hearth but instead of summoning someone to add logs, he set about the task himself and soon the flames licked over the dry wood and roared to life.

A cry went up from the courtyard and Alaric reared his head. He hurried to the door and down the steps into the brisk night air.

Ewan and Caelen led their party into the courtyard and Alaric silently took stock of the men. All were present and accounted for, which meant they’d either not been successful in tracking their quarry or they’d sustained no losses in the fight.

Ewan dismounted and absently wiped his hand over his tunic, leaving a smear of blood. Alaric strode forward. “Are you hurt?”

Ewan glanced down and shook his head. “Nay. We sustained no injuries.”

“They are dead?”

“Aye,” Caelen said in a dark voice. “They’ll not be a bother to us again.”

Alaric nodded. “Good.”

“They would not talk and ’tis God’s truth I wasn’t patient with my questioning,” Ewan said. “They were the same men who took Crispen and Keeley, and Keeley said they spoke of Cameron. ’Tis enough proof for me.”

“How much longer must we wait?” Alaric asked in a quiet voice.

Around them, the men went silent. They all looked to Ewan, the question burning in their eyes. They wanted war. They were ready for war. They all despised Cameron and all he’d done to the McCabe clan. No McCabe would rest until Cameron and all his allies were wiped from the face of the earth.

“Soon,” Ewan said tersely. “We must have patience. After my son or daughter is born, we’ll claim Neamh Álainn as is our right. We’ll unite the whole of the highlands through Alaric’s marriage to Rionna McDonald. Then we’ll spit Duncan Cameron on the end of our swords.”

A roar went up from the courtyard. Torches and swords were thrust skyward as the cry went from warrior to warrior. Swords clanked against shields, horses reared, and fists were raised as the din increased.

Alaric met the gazes of his brothers in the glow of surrounding torches. Ewan’s eyes were alight with determination, and for the first time, Alaric felt shame for his frustration over his impending marriage.

Ewan had given all to his clan. He’d gone without so every woman and child could eat. He’d put his men above himself in every manner. Now they were poised to be the most powerful clan in all of Scotland.

If Alaric could do this one thing for his clan—for his brother, for Mairin, who’d rescued their clan from the brink of extinction—then he’d do it gladly and with pride.

He reached out with his arm, his hand splayed wide. Ewan grasped it and they locked arms. Sweat and blood gleamed on Ewan’s flesh. Their muscles bulged as they held fiercely to each other.

There was understanding when their gazes met and held.

Caelen sheathed his sword and then gave the order for their men to dismount and retire to their quarters. Then he turned to his two brothers. “Anyone for a swim in the loch?”

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