Page 11 of Bride takes a Scot (Highland Vows & Vengeance #1)

T he last stretch of the ride was the most difficult for Declan. He grimaced at the movement of the horse and groaned as pain throbbed in his thigh. At last, the gate came into view. He was never so happy to see his home. Once through the gates, he kept riding until he reached the front of his cottage. There, he dismounted and Anse quickly caught up to him. His cousin took his arm and was about to lead him inside when Isabella came from around the side of the building with Noah walking beside her.

When she caught sight of him, she sprinted toward them. Declan wasn’t prepared for her show of affection when she threw herself into his embrace. He leaned on her, wrapped his arms around her, and took in the bonny scent that was Isabella.

“I am so happy you are home,” she said, continuing to embrace him.

“Lass…” His voice came out in a pained whisper.

“There’s so much I must tell you. But you must be hungry and tired from your journey.”

“Wife…”

“I hope your trek was successful. You must tell me everything.” Isabella finally pulled back and looked at his face. Her smile faded and she pressed her hand on the side of his face. “What’s wrong? Something troubles you. I see pain in your eyes.”

“I am injured.”

Anse spoke up then, “Aye, our laird got himself nicked and needs to be tended to. I will get him inside and retrieve the healer.”

Isabella helped Anse guide him inside. By the time they reached their bedchamber, Declan huffed. He could barely put any pressure on his leg and groaned with each movement. Once he reached the bed, he fell onto it and rolled to a sitting position.

“There is no need to send for the healer,” she said and crossed the chamber.

“But, Milady, his wound might need a stitching, and the healer will aid him. I should go.”

“Wait, don’t leave. I might need your help, Anse.” She returned to his side and his cousin slunk toward the door intent to leave and fetch the healer. “Declan, lay back and let me have a look at what you have done to yourself. Anse, you stay put. You can help me.” She pushed Declan back by pressing his chest and he did as she instructed.

“Are ye a healer, Milady?” Anse asked in awe.

“Somewhat, uh, I suppose so. I dabbled most of my life in caring for wounds and injuries. My da, you see… Ah, well he often got hurt and, well, never mind. Let us just say that I have vast experience in caring for injuries he and his men incurred.” Her face colored but then she appeared to shake herself into action. She pulled Declan’s tartan away from his leg and drew in her breath in a hissing sound.

“Is it as bad as it feels?” Declan asked. He resisted the urge to moan or look at it when she gently prodded the wound with her gentle fingertips.

“It is not good, I’m afraid. Anse, give him something to ease him. Something strong. I’ve tended to similar wounds and will do what I can to ward off infection. I’ll have you mended and patched up as quickly as I can. You are fortunate, Declan, that your leg wasn’t sliced deeper. It could’ve been fatal.”

But Declan wouldn’t allow his cousin to offer him spirits. He wanted to watch his wife and view her every movement. Not because he mistrusted her, but because he appreciated her take-charge attitude and her healing ability—an ability he was unaware of until now.

“It’s going to feel worse before it gets better. I am sorry if I hurt you.”

“Worry not, Wife, I can bear the pain. Just do what ye must and be quick about it.” Declan prepared himself and gritted his teeth so he wouldn’t shout or cause her worry. “Like ye, I can handle the pain if it is over quickly.” He grinned at throwing her words back to her. Declan recalled her saying that to him when they were first together, and he was about to join with her.

Isabella retrieved cloths and set them beneath his leg. Declan thought she meant to support his leg, but then she snatched a pitcher of water from the basin area and poured warm water over his thigh. At first, it stung but then eased to a throb. Then he realized the cloth was meant to catch the water.

She continued to wipe the sore, dab at it, and poured more water over the gash. Oddly, the water eased the throbbing.

Isabella rummaged through a satchel, he’d only just noticed, and retrieved items from within and set them on the nearby table. Then she mixed a concoction of herbs and used a pestle to grind them. She made a paste and laved it over the wound.

“This will help you to heal and it will numb the area so I can stitch it closed. I’m always careful not to use too much of this medicinal because henbane can be lethal. The woman who trained me was very specific about the dosage. She’d told me that many could easily perish if one is careless. I try not to use it, but you’ll need it to ward off infection.”

Isabella was diligent about her task but took overlong to finish. She didn’t make a sound the entire time she plied the needle. By the time she dressed his wound with a wrapping, he had almost fallen asleep. He was lulled by her gentleness and the quiet in their bedchamber.

“There. You will have to take it easy for the next few days. No gallivanting about the lands. Give your leg a little time to heal before you walk too heavily on it. But otherwise, you should be well in no time.”

Anse pulled her into his embrace and hugged her with vigor. His burly arms wrapped around her. “I am astounded, Milady, and thank ye for helping him. I could not do anything for him.”

“That is enough, Anse,” Declan said, disliking his cousin’s arms around his wife. “Go on and see to the clan. I want a report before ye seek your bed this eve.”

Anse released her and nodded. He left the chamber and closed the door.

Isabella tidied up the herbs and put away her satchel. She returned to him and looked apprehensive. He thought they were through with being awkward around each other.

“Does your husband not get a wee kiss on his return?”

She smiled and sat beside him. He shimmied over to make room for her. “Yes, you certainly do.” Isabella pressed her lips on his.

Declan had missed her. He had been gone only a sennight, and it seemed like forever since he’d seen her or held her, or hell, even kissed her. There was something in her gaze, in the darkening depths of her eyes though, that told him something was wrong. He pulled his mouth from hers and shifted her to lay next to him.

“Tell me what ye have been up to whilst I was away. Why do ye look so down, Wife?”

Isabella visibly sighed. “It is nothing to be concerned about.”

“I will hear your words.” Declan leaned his head against hers, reveling in being next to her. He breathed deeply, enjoying her presence more than he should have.

“I still have not made strides in gaining trust with your siblings. Though I tried, I fear they do not wish to get to know me. It is disheartening and I’m distressed about it.”

“Ye should not be distressed. Rhona and Claude were doted on by my father. They have always been difficult even when they were wee. Och, I mean to see they are raised properly and not coddled. Perhaps I should spend more time with them, but I have been busy…since my da died. I will command that they to be kinder to you.”

“Oh, no, don’t do that. I want to win their friendship on my own without coercion.” She paused and pouted prettily before saying, “Why don’t you allow Rhona to marry? She is of age, and she has her heart set on Willeli. Surely, he is worthy since he’s one of the MacKendrick soldiers.”

Declan grimaced. There was much his wife didn’t understand. “He is worthy. But she thinks she is ready for marriage. I do not. Given time, she will understand. ’Tis best for all involved if she matures a wee bit before she is expected to take care of a husband.”

Isabella petted his chest. “Perhaps she will do so, ah… mature sooner than you think.” She settled against him and picked at the front of his shirt before blurting, “Your stepmother is horrid. I have never met a more obstinate woman in my life. She is even more dominant than my mother, which is saying much. I vow I shall never befriend her.”

He lifted his head and glanced at her before settling back against her. “Do ye wish to…befriend her?”

“I do if it is important to you,” she said so low he almost didn’t hear her.

Declan shrugged. It didn’t much matter if Isabella was friendly with Helena. “It is not so important, Wife, but I know not what my da saw in the woman. Unfortunately, we must contend with her presence. Perhaps I will have her moved to her own cottage.”

She nodded. “I didn’t see much of Claude whilst you were away.”

“He was ordered to the training fields. I expect that is why ye did not see him. How is Noah?”

“We made progress this day. He scraped his knee and came to me. I think he will be more agreeable on the morrow. Your grandmother seems to have accepted me. At least, she is cordial and not rude to me.”

“Good,” he said and yawned. “I find myself overly tired.”

“Aye, and well you should.”

Declan groaned. “Why, what did you put in that salve?”

“Just the tiniest pinch of henbane for pain and to ward off infection. It should help with the pain and ease you. You might get a good rest whilst you are at it.”

“Who was rude to you? Tell me, wife…for I…will not…allow…” He couldn’t keep his eyes open, yawned widely, and a drowsiness overtook him. Declan fell into a deep slumber before he finished his thought.

*

Declan opened his eyes and noted the light in the window casement. He had fallen asleep and the last thing he recalled was talking with Isabella. He wondered how long he’d slept. With a hearty stretch, he allowed his limbs to flex and then he pressed his hands over his face to force his alertness. Strangely, his leg didn’t pain him and there was no ache. There was only a wee bit of stiffness.

A knock came at the door, and it opened. Anse stuck his head through the opening and grinned. “Oho, ye are finally awake, are ye? Your bonny wife forbade me from disturbing ye. She said ye needed your rest. Wish I had a tender-hearted woman caring for me. I envy ye.” Anse laughed and closed the door. He instantly began relaying his report, the accounting Declan had asked for the night before.

Declan rose and was careful not to put too much weight on his leg. He washed at the basin while his commander spoke incessantly. He scooped water into his cupped hands, then pressed them to his face. Still, the drowsiness persisted, and he yawned. He shifted the items that sat atop his trunk, rummaged through it, and retrieved a fresh tunic and clean tartan. With care, he set Isabella’s belongings back atop. His wife could use a trunk of her own, and he thought to see to it as soon as he left the room.

Once he’d dressed, he sat on the bedside. He eyed the comfortable bedding and considered lying back down but shook off his need to rest.

“The soldiers have almost finished the third level of the fortification. They will be working on the roof soon. Once that is done, they can begin to finish the inside.”

“I am gladdened to hear that, Anse. Now that I am married, I would like to move in at the soonest. What else?”

“Slone told me that Claude showed up every day for training, but he complained the whole day. I do not think that lad is cut out to be a soldier. Your stepbrother was causing problems too, and Slone said he undermined his authority.”

Declan folded his arms over his chest and his eye twitched. Aggravated to no end by his family’s behavior, he’d had enough. “Let us go to the field and we shall see what’s what.” But he knew his brother’s adversity with training. Perhaps he should have it out with Claude and take him on the field himself, but with his wound, he shouldn’t participate in any strenuous activity. Claude needed to learn how to protect himself before he could protect others.

And his stepbrother definitely needed a talking to. Silas was not skilled enough to interject his view on the training methods his soldiers beheld. It was also time to put Silas in his place. If he wasn’t injured, Declan might have challenged him and ground him into the ground, just to show Silas he wasn’t as skilled as he thought he was. A wee bit of humility went a long way to bringing about a rambunctious soldier.

Before he left the cottage, he looked but didn’t see Isabella. When he finished his duties, he decided, he’d go in search of her. There was something she’d withheld from him the night before, he was sure of it, and he wanted to know what had bothered her. Now, the main living area in the cottage was vacant and it didn’t seem as if anyone was inside the dwelling. He left and stepped outside.

The day shone brightly with nary a cloud. It would be a fine summer day, one warmer than most, he suspected. With that thought, he removed the tartan he’d set over his upper body and dropped it on the step outside the cottage. Then he rolled up his tunic sleeves and drew a deep breath. His walk to the training area didn’t bother him and his leg only pinched. Isabella had done a fair job at mending him.

At the fields, he sat by a tree and watched as various groups practiced arms, bodily combat, archery, and sword play. He spotted his brother Claude on the field where Slone was instructing the younger soldiers. Claude stood and watched. From his posture and the way he stood by the side, he was disinterested in the activity.

There was shouting and Declan spotted his stepbrother berating two soldiers who used bodily combat. Declan drew his brows together at the sight before him. There was chaos, insubordination, and too much belittling going on for his liking.

Declan got to his feet and gently pressed his hand on his leg. It didn’t pain him. It just ached a wee bit but was enough to draw his regard. He whistled and called a halt to the exercise. At once the soldiers ceased their practice and strolled toward him.

“That will be all for this day.” His soldiers nodded as they passed by him, respectfully greeting him. When Claude got close enough, he called to him, and his brother approached, his expression sullen.

“Aye, Declan? As ye can see, I am here as ye bade.”

He motioned to his brother to follow him. Declan didn’t want anyone to overhear their conversation. It was best he said what he wanted to impart privately. “Aye, ye are, but ye are also not. Ye are there on the field bodily, but not emotionally.”

“I do not know what more ye want from me.”

“Why do ye not want to be a soldier? It is what we have been bred to do. Our da would be disappointed to know ye dislike it. Give me a reason, brother, and I will consider letting ye take up a different form of service.”

Claude stopped in his tracks. “Do ye speak the truth?”

“Aye, ’tis my truth because I mean what I say and always do. Tell me what ye wish to do. What inspires ye?” Declan hadn’t ever conversed as intimately with his brother before, and it occurred to him that they didn’t know one another well. It was time to lessen the distance betwixt them and gain a better understanding of why his brother balked at soldiering.

“I do not wish to fight with ye or anyone else. My faith forbids me to hurt another. It is a sin against God and all that He stands for.”

“Your faith? Ye wish to devote yourself to God?” Declan was shocked to hear his brother profess to such a calling. None in his clan had ever chosen to do so before now.

“Aye, but we have no one hereabouts that I can talk to about it. Are ye angry with me?” Claude scraped his foot in the dirt and kept his eyes averted.

Declan set his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Nay, of course, not. If that is what ye wish to do, then of course I will support you. A friar is coming to stay with us, a Friar Faelan. You can speak with him if ye wish and ask your questions.”

Claude raised his face to Declan’s, and there was surprise—and unexpectedly—hope in his eyes. “Really? You will not be offended if I ask to follow him and learn from him?”

The sight of his brother’s emotions so clearly written on his face made Declan feel a bit ashamed that he hadn’t thought to question him sooner. “If that is what ye wish, Claude, I will not oppose ye. In the future, though, ye need to be honest with me. I am your laird and brother. We should not hold back what is in our hearts.”

Claude nodded. “And what if I still wish to find Grandda’s treasure?”

Declan chuckled. “Are ye still after that?” He shrugged. “If ye want to do so, it will not matter to me. Do ye think there really is a treasure though? Grandda liked to tell tales. I vow he made up some of them.”

“Aye, and I mean to find it,” Claude said enthusiastically. His voice rose with excitement and his eyes shone with the possibility of it. He was still a lad in many ways, Declan realized.

“Go then. Ye do not have to train with the men going forward. Seek Frair Faelan when he comes, and your duty will be to him. I will speak to him about taking ye under his wing.”

“Aye, brother, I shall, and my thanks for…understanding.” Claude smiled widely and walked off with a spring in his step.

One down and one to go, Declan thought, as his eyes scanned the men in search of his stepbrother. His conversation with Silas wouldn’t be as easy, he was certain of it. He couldn’t find his stepbrother amongst the men and decided to wait to search for him.

Before he returned to his own cottage, he stopped at his steward’s dwelling and knocked on the door.

Rolly answered and swung the door open wide when he saw him. “Laird, come in.” He hastened to the table and cleared a chair for him.

Declan was gladdened because his leg twinged. “Rolly, I have not seen you in a while. Everything going well for the season planting?”

“Oh, aye, Laird. The extra coin helped, and the farmers are diligent at their tasks. Crops should be springing forth soon and be plentiful by harvest time. Our wool trade will bring us more coin than the last two years combined, what with the extra sheep we purchased. What brings ye by?” Rolly set a cup of ale before him and took a seat at the small table.

Declan was gladdened to hear that because he’d instructed Rolly to purchase the extra sheep when he’d returned from Edinburgh. During his recovery from being imprisoned, he was able to meet with the farmers and give them the necessary coins to purchase seed. The coins he’d set aside to pay tax to his king would ensure their livelihood for at least two winters.

“I want to have an ornate domed coffer made for my wife as a gift for her. Will you meet with the carpenter and have him create it as soon as possible?”

“Certainly, Laird. I shall see to it before the day’s end.”

Declan explained what he wanted and after he’d finished his drink, he left Rolly’s cottage. The coffer, along with the other surprises he had in store for his wife. would go a long way to showing her that he valued her. Then Declan scoffed at himself because he more than valued her, he just wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

Now, he wanted to see Isabella and find out what had bothered her the day before. Certain that she was saddened, he hoped to find out what troubled her. That, and to give her a wee kiss. Or more.