"Aye, m'lady. My name's Margie. We tried to get him to eat, but he'd have none of it." She hurried out the door.
Well, at least they'd tried. He would have to eat for her; she'd make him.
"Is she the healer for
Munrick
?" Jessie whispered.
"Aye. Their main healer passed a few months ago. Margie admits she isn't well trained."
"Saints! Torrin, why on earth did you not hire a competent healer?"
"Didn't ken I'd need one," he whispered.
She shook her head.
"I need to examine his wounds and see if they are festered," Flora said.
"Aye." Jessie said. "I'll help you." Knowing one of the injuries was on his left thigh, Jessie moved the blankets aside while trying to keep his groin covered, although she was certain Flora had seen countless naked men while performing her healing duties.
Flora removed the bloody linen bandage from his thigh, revealing a swollen, angry gash. It had been roughly stitched up. Jessie wanted to mutter several curse words, but kept her lips sealed tight.
"
'Tis
a festering wound. I must bathe it, then apply a poultice." Flora turned to the MacLeod maid who waited near the door. "I'll need a kettle of boiled water if you please."
"Aye." The maid hastened away.
"It looks bad, does it not?" Jessie asked.
Flora nodded.
"You can help him though, aye?"
"I will certainly try, m'lady. But you must pray. Your prayers seem to work miracles." Flora dug into her satchel and pulled out several wee cloth pouches of dried herbs.
Jessie nodded, her throat closing. Her prayers had been answered thus far. Torrin was alive, as she'd asked. Now, she must ask for his rapid healing.
Holding his hand, she kissed his overheated forehead, then silently said a swift but heartfelt prayer.
"Don't cry, Jessie," Torrin whispered. "Don't like it when you cry."
She wiped her tears away. "Then you must recover quickly."
"Don't leave me," he said.
"I won't."
"Ever," he added, his pain-filled gaze locked on her.
Realizing what he was saying, she bit her lip. He was asking her to stay with him permanently. Was that what it would take to give him the strength to fight for his life? She would do anything to keep him alive.
"I will stay with you… always," she said.
"In truth?" He frowned, his eyes searching hers.
"Aye. I love you," she whispered, stroking his cheek, sporting a weeks' worth of beard stubble.
"Love you, too." He turned his head slightly and kissed her palm.
Margie and the maid rushed into the room, one carrying a kettle of hot water and the other a tray of food.
Flora set about making an herbal tea. While it steeped, Jessie fed Torrin a couple of
spoonfuls
of warm venison broth. It smelled fresh and delicious. It had been many hours since she'd eaten and she was hungry. But
Torrin's
well-being was far more important than her own.
"
'Tis
all I can stomach," he said after another sip.
Flora and Jessie helped him turn onto his side so they might check the wound on his back. It was healing well because it hadn't been as deep a cut.
Once Jessie forced him to drink the tea containing the poppy, willow bark, thyme, red clover blossom and several other things, Flora bathed the wound on his thigh with hot water containing herbs over the basin. She then gently applied a poultice of plantain, red clover, comfrey and calendula to the wound and covered it with clean linen.
A few minutes later, Torrin dropped off to sleep and his fever seemed diminished.
"Go get yourself something to eat, m'lady," Flora whispered.
Before Jessie could say anything,
Dolina
entered the room, carrying a tray filled with food. "Margie sent this up for you both."
"Oh, I thank you," Jessie said.
While Jessie was eating, Dirk, Keegan and Iain entered the room. "How is he?" Dirk asked, keeping his voice low.
"Flora has attended to the wound on his thigh and given him a tea to help him sleep and recover. The cut on his back is already healing well."
Dirk nodded, still looking worried as his gaze scanned over Torrin.
"I'm so thankful you've all come," Iain said in a hushed tone. "I'm not a healer. I knew not what to do. I knew Flora and Lady Jessie could help him more than anyone."
"We'll do our best," Flora said. "But he'll need a lot of prayers."
***
Jessie woke up, a bit disoriented for a moment, then realized she was sitting in the padded chair by
Torrin's
bed. Bright morning light filtered through the two narrow windows. Her gaze darting to Torrin, she found him watching her. It had been two days since she'd arrived, and Torrin had been either sleeping or feverishly delirious most of the time.
"I like to watch you sleep," he murmured.
Thank the saints he was lucid and alert. "Are you feeling better?" she asked.
"Aye."
"Good." She stood, then sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to bump his leg, and pressed her palm to his forehead. Still a bit too warm, but his gaze was clear green, not glassy as it had been the day before. "Thank God you're improving." She smiled, a mist of happy tears burning her eyes.
"And thank you, too." He stared at her intently, but then his stomach growled.
She grinned. "Sounds like you're hungry."
"Mayhap."
At a rustling sound behind her, she turned to find Flora rising from her pallet near the fireplace. Jessie moved across the room, awoke
Dolina
and sent her after
Torrin's
breakfast, while Flora changed the poultice on his leg.
A half hour later, Jessie fed Torrin porridge. She enjoyed the task of giving him sustenance. He had argued and insisted he was capable of feeding himself, but she refused to let him. She simply wanted to help him in any way she could.
A knock sounded at the door.
Dolina
answered it, and a pretty, young, dark-haired woman entered the room, dressed as a lady rather than a servant.
"Good morn. I'm
Rhona
, Nolan's wife," she told Jessie, a solemn expression on her face. "How are you feeling this morn,
m'laird
?" she asked Torrin, moving closer.
"Better. This is Lady Jessie MacKay," Torrin said.
After pleasantries were exchanged, Torrin frowned and asked, "Has anyone told you about Nolan?"
"Aye, Sir Iain did.
'Twas
one reason I wished to speak to you."
"I wanted to tell you myself, but I was blacked out and had a fever for… I don't ken how long it has been."
"Just over a week," Jessie said.
"Saints! That long?" he asked.
"I know,"
Rhona
said. "I'm simply glad you are feeling better today. Sir Iain didn't tell me everything. When did Nolan die, and how did it happen?"
Jessie detected no emotion or tears in the young woman's gaze, which she found interesting and unusual.
"Several weeks ago, south of here," Torrin said. "He kidnapped Lady Isobel, and Chief MacKay killed him.
'Twas
only a couple of nights after they stayed here on their journey.
'Twas
a fair fight. Nolan was an outlaw."
"Aye,"
Rhona
said, frowning. "I knew someone would kill him."
"When I'm up to it, some of the
MacKays
are going to take me to his gravesite. I ken you probably cannot go to the grave, because of wee
Lainie
, but we'll have a funeral for him here in the kirk."
She nodded. "After the funeral, with your permission, I would like to take
Lainie
and go stay with my mother and father for a while."
"Of course. Whatever you wish," Torrin said.
"I'll come back later and bring
Lainie
to see you." She gave a hint of a smile.
Torrin nodded. "My niece," he said to Jessie.
She forced a tight smile and watched
Rhona
leave the room. Once the door was closed, Jessie gave Torrin another bite of porridge. "She did not seem terribly upset over the death of her husband."
Torrin shook his head. "
'Twas
not a love match. Nolan seduced her, the daughter of a chieftain, got her with child and was forced to marry her. They were miserable together."
"I see." Each of the young women Jessie knew either had a
bairn
or were expecting a
bairn
, even those who'd had unhappy marriages. She felt completely lacking.
***
"Come, lie on the bed with me and get some sleep," Torrin said to Jessie late that night when they were alone.
As far as he could tell, she had slept very little since she'd been here at
Munrick
, for every time he awoke, she was there. Thank the saints for that, but she needed rest, too.
"Nay. Are you mad?" she asked in a loud whisper. "Someone might come in."
Flora and the maid had moved to the small chamber next door, but 'twas possible Flora would come in and give him more herbal tea later.
"Bar the door," he said. "That way you can open the door for them and they won't see us in bed together."
"Rogue," she muttered and tried to hide her smile.
He winked. "I promise not to molest you."
She narrowed her eyes, giving him a mock glare, but then her smile came through. "Very well." She rose from the chair and barred the door.
As she was walking back toward him and climbing onto the bed, excitement stampeded through him. Even though she was fully clothed and he was certainly in no condition to do anything about beautiful Jessie in his bed, 'twas still like seeing one of his dreams come true.
He took her hand and pulled her closer.
"I'll stay on top of the covers," she said.
"If you insist," he whispered, wishing more than anything she was nude, but he knew he would have to save that treat for later. "Lie right next to me."
She scooted and wiggled closer, and he put his arm around her.
"I don't want to hurt you," she whispered.
"You're not. Lay your head on my shoulder."
She did, turning toward him and placing her hand on his chest.
"Aye, that's it." He sighed, simply enjoying the feel of her curled next to him.
She'd promised to stay with him forever, and he wanted to know when they could marry. But he wouldn't bring the subject up now; it might make her tense.
"Get some sleep," he murmured and kissed her forehead.
"Aye. You, too."
Thanks to the herbal tea Flora had given him, he was soon asleep. When he awoke, early dawn light seeped through the windows. Jessie was still next to him, asleep. Saints, but she was lovely when she slept, and she fit perfectly in his bed.