Page 52

“Since when is working a crime? I should think they would be pleased at having her assistance or at least admire her efforts.”

Hamish released a beleaguered sigh. “They are females, milord.”

“I suppose ye want me to speak of this to Lady Fiona?”

“If ye think it best,” Hamish said humbly.

Gavin drummed his fingers restlessly on the wooden table. Leave it to a bunch of women to make a problem where one shouldn’t exist.

“Tell them that if they prefer, I shall instruct Lady Fiona to cease her efforts to work alongside them. She will instead conduct herself like a pampered, noble lady and demand to be waited upon. By them.”

Hamish’s face brightened with interest. “Very good, milord. I will take great pleasure in relating yer wishes.”

Fiona was expecting the cramps and the headache, for they usually accompanied her menses, but she was unprepared for the exhaustion. She hoped concentrating on a task would help keep her awake, but her eyelids felt so heavy she couldn’t control their drifting down over her eyes. At times she could barely catch a glimpse of the thread she was trying to spin—at others she saw two fuzzy strings through blurry, unfocused eyes.

More than anything she wanted to drag herself up the stairs and crawl into her own bed. Alone. So she could suffer in silent privacy. But no one left the hall without seeking the earl’s permission and she was in no mood to ask him.

“Shall we retire, milady?”

Fiona’s head snapped up and she stared at Gavin. Her mind had been drifting in a state of exhaustion and she hadn’t even heard him approach. Relieved she could finally leave, she rose and Gavin caught her hand.

By the time they reached the top of the staircase, Fiona felt as though her legs would collapse if she took another step. She muttered a hasty good night to Gavin, then gratefully reached for the latch on her bedchamber door, but his booming voice stopped her.

“Where do ye think yer going?”

“To bed, to sleep,” Fiona muttered, too tired to turn around. Besides, there was no need to see the scowl on his face when she could hear it so clearly in his voice. “I suddenly feel exhausted.”

“Why are ye going into that chamber?”

Fiona closed her eyes and leaned her head against the door. “I cannot . . . that is to say, I need to be alone tonight. And the next few nights,” she added hastily.

“Fiona, is something wrong?”

Yes! You are a half-wit!He’d been married before, surely he knew about this sort of thing. Her head still pressed against the door, she turned it and stared at him pointedly, hoping the truth would dawn upon him. Or at least he’d take the hint and leave her alone. Unfortunately, his gaze remained puzzled.

“’Tis my womanly time, Gavin,” Fiona groaned, in too much discomfort to be delicate.

“I dinnae care. Come to my bed.”

Fiona whirled around. Her head was starting to feel as though it were splitting in half. “I need to be alone,” she repeated.

“I never put much stock in the teachings that a woman is unclean during her time of the month. ’Tis a part of nature; how can that be something so fearful?”

“’Tis a woman’s burden, to be endured alone,” Fiona grimaced.

“Are ye in pain?”

Her face whitened. “I . . . well . . . I cannot discuss this with you,” she muttered.

“I’ll send for yer maid. Now come into my chamber.”

Alice arrived a short while later with Fiona’s nightclothes, a basin of warm water, and other essentials. Gavin stayed on the opposite side of the chamber, allowing Fiona some privacy. But the minute Alice departed, he came to the bed.

“Turn on yer side, Fiona.”

She lifted a corner of the cloth Alice had kindly placed on her forehead and glared at him. “Have you lost your mind?”

Gavin looked insulted. “Och, I’m not an animal. Now do as I say.”