Every Heart Has Its Day (5 page)

She looked back to Gavin. “Have I done aught awry?”

“My apologies, Lady Kasey. Ye have been devoted to Hunter’s welfare.” Gavin bowed out of the room, but remained in the corridor.

Broderick rushed past Gavin. Simultaneously, he bowed to his king and shoved the bag into Kasey’s hand.

She sought and found the flask with Dragon’s Breath and thrust it under Hunter’s body. A few moments later she poured a bit of the potion onto her fingers. His fever had warmed it well enough. “Broderick, have ye a dirk?”

“Ye think to bloodlet, milady?”

“Nay, Broderick. Hunter has already lost more than enough.” Kasey despised healers who answered every ill by bleeding a body nearly dry. It did naught but weaken the poor soul. “I wish him to bite the dagger. I imagine a man of his size issues ear-piercing screams.”

“Milady, Mackintoshes never scream, save for battle cries. Hunter, as ye call him, needs naught to quiet him.”

“Dragon’s Breath be verra potent. I have seen many a warrior cry like a babe during its use.” Kasey hated to inflict pain on any, especially Hunter, but the relentless fever left no choice.

“Yer concern be touching, Lady Cameron. Begin the treatment.” Laird Mackintosh’s tone invited no argument.

As she drizzled the liquid over the slash, Hunter held his breath and pinched his eyes shut.

“’Twill be over soon.” Had she not been watching him carefully, she might have missed his weak nod. When he looked into her eyes, she braved a small smile. She could spare no more for fire licked her back as well.

Had she not felt the same sensation during her vision at the lodge?

Her mother’s face flashed across her mind’s eye. Lady Brietta’s lips twisted in a sad sort of smile. “Be strong, my love.” The visage faded.

Kasey’s heart pounded. She grasped the healing stone pendant her mother had given her and allowed its warmth to soothe her. If this amulet truly holds the power of life, please let it bestow that precious gift upon Hunter Mackintosh.

The sky turned a muted gray by the time the potion thickened. “I need boiling water and clean linen strips.”

As soon as a servant set a pot by her side, Kasey used Broderick’s blade to scrape away the fetid waste.

Awed by Hunter’s stoic tenacity, she whispered, “The next step will give ye comfort.” She dabbed on a sweet smelling cream that would ease the pain and prevent new festering.

She rose, placed her hands in the small of her back, and bent back to stretch her aching muscles. She glanced around. Too many people filled the small chamber. “He must be left to rest now. I shall send word when he be able to have visitors.” She ignored the startled looks the king and Laird Mackintosh exchanged. If her gall shocked them, so be it. She was too exhausted to care about propriety.

At the king’s nod, everyone save Kasey and her lady’s maid left the room.

“Ye will order me not from this chamber, milady.”

“Evonne, from the snickers and leers I encountered, the damage has already been done. Yer presence now will do naught to amend that.”

A few hours later, Kasey sat by the window and lifted her hair. The warm night breeze dried the moisture from her neck. She glanced over at Hunter. The circles under his eyes had faded with the return of color to his face. A fortnight of sleep would banish them completely.

She let her hair fall and leaned her temple against the cool stone wall. Hunter’s fever had all but disappeared. Sleep beckoned, and she was more than willing to answer until a tap plucked her from slumber’s brink.

Evonne placed a hand on her shoulder. “Rest, milady. I shall send away whoever it be.”

Kasey laid her head back against the stone until Evonne greeted the king. She stumbled to her feet as the king entered the chamber. She teetered a curtsy. “Yer Majesty.”

“Sit, Lady Cameron.” He pulled a chair next to hers. “Ye must be worn out, so I shall keep this brief.”

Countless expressions flitted across his face as she waited for him to speak. When she could no longer bear the silence, she asked, “My liege?”

“I wish to hear all ye ken about how this warrior received his injuries.”

She had hoped to delay this conversation until the morrow. “What good will come of it, sire?”

“Lady Kasey, I understand yer dread...”

“Can ye, my liege? I have already dared too much. The truth risks my life.”

“I shall protect ye.”

He pondered every word of Kasey’s account. When she tried to soften or evade the truth, he questioned her until her answer satisfied him.

“One last question, milady. What do ye ken of Hunter Mackintosh?”

“He needed my aid.” Kasey hung her head. “I canna allow his plaid to alter my care.”

The king nodded and rose. “Stay seated. I shall see myself to the door.”

After he quit the chamber, she sat back and closed her burning eyes. At a soft rapping, she pried them open. Darkness engulfed the chamber.

Her lady’s maid giggled and mumbled in her sleep.

Had Evonne said Gavin? Kasey sighed. God help them both.

Unsure of how Evonne sprawled across the floor, Kasey weighed each step she before setting her foot to the floor.

She cracked opened the door and blinked several times. A candle waited on the other side, but she could not tell who held it until her eyes adjusted.

“How fares Hunter, milady?”

She clutched her shawl about her shoulders. “I believe he will heal quickly, Broderick.”

“Ye look exhausted. Return to yer chamber and get some rest. I shall stay with him until the morn.”

“Thank ye, but I shall stay.”

“I be not a healer, milady, but my years in battle have taught me a few things. If Hunter worsens, I will send someone for ye posthaste.”

“I believe ye could take good care of him, Broderick, but it be my duty to stay.”

Broderick chuckled.

“Something humors ye?”

“Ye be as stubborn as yer father.”

“I be nothing like my laird,” She turned away, hopeful darkness hid the heat in her cheeks. “My apologies, sir.”

“I owe ye an apology, milady. I should have had more faith in ye.”

Tears came to her eyes. Never before had a man admitted he had been mistaken, much less expressed regret. “I forgive ye, but ye must atone for yer distrust.”

“What might my penance be?”

“I need yer counsel on a matter of import. Could ye spare a few moments?”

“At yer service, milady.”

“My laird has no use for the art of healing. After he hears of this, I believe he will destroy my potions.”

She rose and paced the chamber. “I canna risk losing my forebears’ knowledge and have decided to put my teachings on parchment. My laird knows not that my mother taught me to read and write. If I somehow mask my notes, he would think them nonsense.”

“Our king uses different codes for each laird. Should a missive be intercepted, the message remains a mystery.”

“The idea has merit, but how would I remember the code?”

“It could be as simple as reversing the alphabet.”

She walked to the writing table, scribbled a message on parchment and handed it to Broderick. “Can ye read this?”

WIZTLM’H YIVZGS

He shrugged. “Dragon’s Breath.”

She nodded.

“Ye may wish to consider removing the apostrophe. Those who ken of this cure could use these words to make sense of the rest.”

“Exactly my intention. The apostrophe holds the key.”

She tilted her head and stared past the emissary. Several men, including Broderick, pored over the markings on vessels and sheaves. The image faded as quickly as it appeared. “Ye will remember what ye have taught me this day?”

Broderick raised a brow. “Aught troubles ye, lass?”

Unable to explain the urgency she sensed, she asked, “May I borrow yer candle?”

Chapter Five

Kasey kneaded the stiffness from her neck as she smiled at her charge.

Hunter’s fever had remained at bay, which left her ample time to encode her potions. She had welcomed the two times he roused. When she slid behind his shoulder to keep his body erect, he nestled his head between her breasts. Her heart swelled at his touch, though her mind pared all hope.

Her mood darkened when her vision clouded. Evonne lay, fearful and alone, in a forest, crying in pain. Kasey yearned to comfort her, but aught kept them apart. Within a short time two horsemen appeared at Evonne’s side. One tended her, then eased her onto his mount and took her to safety. The other vanished, as did the foretoken.

“Evonne, correct?” At the maid’s nod, Hunter asked, “What troubles Lady Cameron?”

“Mayhap spending the last three days ensuring yer survival has taken its toll.”

“Please, Evonne, dinna snap at him. He be not to blame.” Kasey turned to her charge. “How do ye feel this lovely morn, Hunter?”

“Hungry.”

She crossed the chamber. His cool brow proclaimed the end of her duty. But, oh, how she would miss him. She pulled her fingers from his forehead.

He grabbed her wrist, then brought her hand to his mouth and placed his lips against her knuckles.

Heat coursed through her traitorous body. The future held naught for them. Why must he make their parting more difficult? Kasey tore her hand from Hunter’s grasp as the door flung open. Heat flooded her cheeks when Laird Mackintosh entered.

“His color looks much better today, Lady Cameron.”

“Aye, milord. Would ye kindly help me check his wound?”

Kasey removed the old bandages, which held neither pus nor blood. She applied salve and fresh linen strips, then handed the ointment to his laird. “If ye please, milord, ask yer healer to apply this and fresh wrappings each morn and night until she removes the stitches.”

“Ye entrust my care to another, Kasey?”

Hunter’s hooded eyes and the echo of sadness in his voice pulled at her heart. Her throat tightened, her eyes burned, but she refused to allow her clan’s enemies see her sorrow. She curtsied to the laird, then hastened toward the door. “I shall ask servants to bring ye fare.”

****

Caedmon dropped another oatmeal scone on his son’s trencher.

“No, thank ye, father.” Connor patted his stomach. “I have eaten enough to break four men’s fasts.”

“Ye missed breaking as many fasts.”

Broderick entered without invitation. He bowed to Laird Mackintosh before he turned to Connor. “Our liege requests yer presence in the throne room. If ye be not up to the task…”

Connor held up his hand. “Naught will be served by delaying. Please tell His Majesty I shall come as soon as I dress.”

Broderick nodded, bowed to the laird, and left.

Caedmon poured fresh water into a bowl. He placed clean linens and the remnants of a soap cake on the chest next to Connor’s pallet.

“Thank ye, milord. Shall I see ye in the throne room?”

Caedmon chuckled. “Ye think to bathe and dress yerself?”

“I have done so for many a summer.”

“As ye wish.”

His father’s quick agreement raised Connor’s suspicion. “Ye need not stand outside the door, milord. I assure ye I be capable of the task.”

“Ye know me too well, son.”

A few moments after Caedmon departed, Connor opened the door and peered about the corridor. He smiled to himself, thankful no others had witnessed his foolish distrust.

He washed with little difficulty, but bending to pull on the form-fitting hose stole his breath. Extending his arm into the shirtsleeve pulled on his bruised ribs, and the rough fabric chafed the gash. He wished he could forgo any garments.

As he strode through the corridor, he imagined how Kasey would respond to seeing him naked. Most likely, she would turn away to hide her blush, but she would speak with him as if naught were amiss. He would nudge her chin up and wait for her gaze to meet his. Mayhap she would see what he could not say.

Hell’s blazes! No woman had ever left him at a loss for words, much less feeling like a coward. He would do well to remember Mackintoshes took what they wanted. The Camerons could do naught if he threw her over his shoulder and carried her back to his keep.

Nay. He needed to find the right way. Though thoughts of her curves molded to his body had warmed him many a winter night, he wanted Kasey’s heart, too.

Outside the throne room, Connor paused. He knew not what the future held, but before he left this chamber, the king would ken his desire.

He gathered his courage and entered. Relief showed on all faces save one—the man who had sought to kill him.

Randall’s scowl deepened as his eyes flitted between Connor’s and Caedmon’s faces.

Contented by Randall’s bruised nose and blackened eyes, Connor gained his attacker’s side. “Have ye just realized whom ye failed to kill?”

Randall shrugged. “Yer death by my hand would not have reaped as many rewards as my lady saving yer life will.”

“Explain yerself.”

“I wondered why the Mackintosh heir would so often follow her to the falls. Had ye hoped to further the feud by leaving yer enemy’s lady a fallen woman?”

“Mayhap ye consider Kasey a pawn in a sick game—”

“But ye see her in a different light. Tell me, Mackintosh, does her body light a fire in ye?” Randall laughed. “Ye ken her wide hips and abundant breasts will provide healthy heirs as well as ample amusement for a husband.”

Jealousy clawed at Connor’s stomach. “Ye will never know for certain. She despises ye.”

“Her feelings matter not. Once our laird learns she saved ye from certain death, only I will be able to defend her from his wrath.”

“We shall see.” Connor clenched his hands behind his back to keep from choking the swine.

“Ye canna believe my laird will betroth her to ye.”

“Yer laird may have no say in the matter.”

“Only a royal decree can take precedence. Since many consider the king’s reign insufferable, he canna risk losing Cameron support.” Randall sighed. “Continuing our bloodline will be a heinous duty, but I shall somehow find the strength.”

The last vestiges of Connor’s control faded in a haze of fury. He reached for Randall’s throat just as the king entered the room. “Yer day will come.” He brushed imaginary dirt from his adversary’s shoulders, then bowed to the king.

“I have heard several versions as to how Connor Mackintosh incurred his injuries, yet I canna ascertain the truth.” The king glared at Randall and the Mackintosh brothers. “Yer actions threaten the peace guaranteed all who visit Inverness. Therefore I hereby sentence the three of ye to two years service in my guard. Mayhap under my guidance ye will become men who bring honor, not shame, to yer clans.”

“Yer majesty...?” Connor hesitated.

“Ye dare to take issue with my decision, Mackintosh?”

“Nay, sire. It will be an honor to train at Inverness.”

“Understand yer time here will be difficult. Every member of my guard works day and night to hone his skills.”

“I shall do my utmost to earn yer respect, sire, but I request a moment in privacy to discuss another matter.”

A wave of gasps struck Connor. He turned to see an ocean of widened eyes.

“Granted.”

He wiped his sweaty palms on his trews as he followed the king into an antechamber. He need not worry. He faced but a small skirmish, not a full-fledged battle.

Unless the king denied his petition.

Honor, as well as his heart, demanded he make his petition. The king could not refuse him.

After the king sat, Connor cleared his throat and made his request.

“Have ye lost yer wits?”

“Nay, sire.”

“Ye must be mad. I have just sentenced ye to two years in my guard, and yet ye have the nerve to request my most valuable gem.”

“Aye, sire.”

The king furrowed his brow. “Near the end of yer sentence, if ye impress me, I shall consider yer petition.”

Connor nodded. At least the king had not denied him. He turned to leave, then stopped and turned back. “Forgive me, my liege, but in two years what I seek may no longer be available.”

“I have already placed her under my protection. I assure ye, Connor, ’twill be available.”

****

Kasey knew not how long she lay on her pallet, swaddled like a newborn babe. The back of her hand, tucked under her cheek, felt as wet as if she had held it under the waterfall. She sniffed and vowed to dam the cascade of tears.

Crying would change naught. Now that Hunter no longer needed her, she would never see him again. He would wed the woman his fevered mind had imagined her to be. And memories of his touch would haunt her the rest of her days.

She sat up and pushed wet strands of hair from her face. She had pitied herself far too long. After splashing cool water on her face, she snatched her dorlach from the table.

In the chair next to the window, she ripped the seam at the top of her bag. She stuffed the folded parchments between the inner satin and outer wool. Her vision, still blurred from weeping, made threading the needle difficult.

Evonne burst through the door. “Have ye heard? The king has ordered Gavin, Hunter, and Randall to train with his guard.”

“And this annoys ye?”

“Gavin did no wrong. Why should he be punished?”

Kasey shrugged. “Why should Hunter?”

“Hunter broke Randall’s nose.”

“Randall be fortunate Hunter dinna run him through with his brother’s sword.” Despite her trembling hands, Kasey threaded the needle on her first attempt.

“The king would have hanged him from the turrets if he had, but what crime has Gavin committed?” Evonne asked.

“Gavin threatened Randall.”

At Broderick’s declaration Kasey started, then suckled her pricked finger. “Och, Broderick. I never ken ye be present until ye speak. How do ye make no sound?”

He shrugged. “Ye canna see or hear the best warriors until they be upon ye.”

Then Hunter must be a great warrior. Had Randall not claimed he had often followed her to the falls? She sighed. She would not, could not think of him. “Gavin did naught but protect me.”

“If ye will excuse me, I wish to have a few words with Gavin if I may.” Evonne curtsied and scurried from the room without awaiting a reply.

“Randall could use the same defense for his attack on Con... Hunter.”

Kasey threw her hands into the air, knocking her dorlach to the floor. “Hunter meant me no harm.” She bent to pick up the spilled contents.

“If yers be torn, ye may have my satchel. I prefer to roll my things within an extra plaid and tie it to my horse.”

“Nay, thank ye.”

“Did ye ken I once commanded a contingent of the royal guard?”

Kasey shook her head.

“As the king’s cousin, I had to prove I deserved the position because of skill, not blood.” Broderick rubbed his hip as he looked toward the guard’s quarters. “My injury prevents me from leading the army still, but it has afforded me numerous advantages. When the king has no need for my services, I be free to do as I wish. For example, I be available to give a lady another lesson aboot daggers.”

Broderick crossed the chamber, leaned into the corridor, and then returned with a sack in hand. “A gift for milady.”

“For me?” Her heart raced as she untied the tanned cord. Save a small token each Yuletide, she received no gifts.

Her vision darkened. Her back blazed. Black thongs flew through the air. She shook her head to chase away the vision.

“The dark look upon yer face couldna mean ye dislike my present.” Broderick’s concern reflected in his voice. “Come now, look inside.”

She gasped at the pair of boots with jewel-encrusted tabs. “Broderick, I canna accept these. They be much too dear.”

“Try them on afore ye make a final decision.” He knelt and removed her worn slipper. Holding the boot open, he warned, “Pull not on these tabs unless ye mean to use them.”

Kasey slid her foot into leather as soft as dew. She stood and lowered the hem of her kirtle. Her skirts hid the top, as if she wore a simple slipper.

She sat to don the second boot. Strange. Each boot had only one tab on the right side. If meant as decoration, the left boot should have the tab on the left side. Since Broderick had been more than generous in his offering, she had no right to complain.

Leaning down, she tugged on the sides of the other boot. As her foot slid in, her body jerked and hit the back of the chair. In her hand she held not an adornment, but a dagger.

“I warned ye not to pull on that.” He returned the dirk to the boot’s sheath. “Would ye care to accompany me to the gardens, milady?”

She nodded and tied her arisaide about her shoulders.

True to her expectations, those they passed leered and mocked her. She tried to ignore the ridicule, but her frown deepened with each step.