Page 26

But then with a suddenness that almost stilled his heart, her eyes fluttered open, dark pools of liquid yearning that took him by surprise with the force of their intensity.

He froze as she raised her hands, bringing them slowly up his arms and across his shoulders until her fingers tangled in his hair.

She pulled him closer, burying her face in his neck.

She nestled there, and he felt the light tickle of her lashes against his skin as her eyes drifted shut again.

When he pressed a kiss on the top of her head, she sighed in contentment.

And he thought his heart would break.

Never. He’d never have this joy, this happiness of a life and love with Aileana. He’d stolen a single moment in hopes of its memory sustaining him through the emptiness of his future. But he’d discovered too late that it brought nothing but lancing pain for what might have been.

Gently, he disentangled her hands from around his neck and tucked them back beneath the blanket.

Then he stood, closing his eyes and squeezing his fists tight against the wave of anguished emotion that washed over him.

When he’d controlled his feelings enough to command his legs to move, he turned and walked from the room, hardly daring to breathe for fear that a single wrong step might make him fracture into a thousand pieces.

He’d been kissing her. Aileana kept her eyes closed, holding on to the tattered edges of the dream floating through her mind.

Only it wasn’t a dream; it was true. Her lips felt warm and slightly swollen, and she ran her fingertips across them as if testing for traces of Duncan’s touch.

A happy tingle wavered in her belly, and the corners of her mouth curved up slightly.

She’d liked his kisses.

Duncan had given her a feeling of peace, of security…of passion when he’d pressed his lips to hers. The memory of it sent a pleasurable shiver down her spine.

Cautiously, she opened her eyes, hoping to see him sitting at her bedside.

But only night shadows greeted her; in the gloom she could make out Bridgid’s ample frame tucked into the chair before the fire.

The bailie stirred and yawned, the back of her hand brushing across her eyes as she turned to find a more comfortable position.

“Bridgid?” Aileana whispered. She hadn’t intended to whisper, but that seemed the only level of noise she was capable of making at the moment.

Though Bridgid sighed in response, she didn’t wake.

Aileana looked up at the intricate stone design of the ceiling above her head, then closed her eyes again as she gathered her strength. She needed some water, and it seemed that she was going to have to get it herself.

Swallowing with effort, she pushed herself to a sitting position on the bed.

Her legs felt weak as a newborn foal’s. It was a strange sensation, the dizzy weightlessness that came over her when she scooted to the edge of the bed.

Her bare toes slipped from beneath the covers, dangling toward the cool floor.

Little goosebumps rose on her arms and legs.

Drawing the coverlet around her, she waited until her balance felt stable again.

Then she pushed herself up to stand. But for all her thinking she was ready, her legs refused to support her weight.

Blindly, she reached out for something solid to break her fall, groping for the table Duncan had positioned next to the bed.

Her hand smacked into it, making an empty cup atop it clatter to the floor.

Aileana followed soon after, collapsing with a painful thud that knocked the breath from her lungs and made her curl into a ball on the hard stone.

“What is it? Where—?”

Through breathless pain, Aileana saw Bridgid start from her chair.

The bailie ’s eyes opened wide as she cast her startled gaze from right to left, her face still bleary from sleep.

But Aileana couldn’t call out; it was all she could do to try to stave off her panic at not being able to get enough air.

As she tried to blink away the increasing number of black dots dancing before her eyes, she felt Bridgid’s strong hands grip her shoulders. With one swift motion, Bridgid helped her to sit, and before long she was back in bed.

When her breathing calmed, Aileana saw that the bailie stood over her, clucking her tongue with disapproval, her hands on her hips.

“What’re you doing, missy? You shouldn’t be out of bed yet, as I’da told you if you hadn’t gone ahead and tried it on your own without a by your leave.”

Aileana attempted an answer, but she was forced to swallow again, this time with even less success than before.

Her tongue felt thick and dry, like a strip of leather, and her lips twisted with the effort to speak.

Pointing across the chamber, she tried to show that she needed some water.

Bridgid hurried to comply, mumbling apologies as she shuffled back and tipped the cup to her lips.

Finally, Aileana lay against the bolster and closed her eyes. “You’ve no cause to scold me you know,” she said hoarsely. “I did try to ask for your help, but I couldn’t wake you. My voice wouldn’t carry that far.”

After a moment’s silence Bridgid came closer and took Aileana’s hand in her own. “Aye, well, I’m sorry for not being here, ready when you needed me.” Her brows met in a frown. “It’s strange that Duncan didn’t wake me to take over the vigil.”

“What vigil?”

“The watching over your sickbed.”

“What do you mean?”

“The laird himself watched over you the entire time you were sick, even when you were sleeping.” Bridgid rearranged the bolster behind Aileana’s back.

Her kerchief flapped as she nodded. “The whole time Duncan kept the watch. He wanted to be tending you until your fever broke. After that he let me and Kinnon spell him every few hours.”

Peculiar warmth spread through Aileana’s belly, and she twisted her fingers in the blankets. “Where is he now?” Her voice gave out before she could add that she wanted to thank him for tending to her.

“I don’t know, missy. But if you’re feeling well enough for the moment, I’ll go find him. He’ll want to be told now that you’re awake.”

Aileana nodded and closed her eyes for a moment.

Though her arms lacked any real strength, she soon sat up and tried to run her fingers through her tangled hair.

If only she’d thought to ask Bridgid for a comb and a damp cloth to wash her face.

She smoothed her fingers over her cheeks, hoping to bring up a little color, but as she lowered her hands to the coverlet, she saw that they were shaking.

Frowning, Aileana noticed that she could see the threading of her veins more than usual; her skin appeared almost translucent. It was clear that the plague had laid her low.

“I see you’re sitting up.”

Aileana looked toward the door; the low timbre of Duncan’s voice sent strange warmth flooding through her again.

He leaned against the curved entrance to the chamber, a guarded expression on his face.

She squinted to see him in the shadows, but still he held back, as if hesitant to actually come into the room.

“I’m feeling much better,” she said quietly.

“I’ve sent Bridgid to fetch some broth for you.” He pushed away from the door frame and walked into the chamber. Still he kept his distance from her bed, moving instead to the fireplace. “You’ll need to rebuild your strength.”

He gazed at her then, a flicker of concern piercing the careful look he’d been wearing since he came into the room. “Bridgid told me about you trying to get your own water, and I’ll not have you behaving so foolishly again. You’re to stay in bed, on my order. Is that understood?”

Aileana closed her eyes again, weakness overcoming her. “I’m no babe to be coddled.” She would have said more, but a fit of dry coughing interrupted her.

“If you insist on being stubborn, I’ll resume my own watch of you until I’m convinced that you’re strong enough to be left alone.

” Duncan leveled his gaze on her, his eyes compelling.

“It was not so long ago that I feared losing you to the plague. I’ll not have you falling sick again for the sake of obstinacy. ”

She paused, the memory of his kisses flickering through her mind. Her cheeks heated with the sudden rush of blood, making her feel dizzy, and she took another sip of water.

“I heard—” she whispered, “nay, I remember you caring for me.” She stared with marked intent at the square of stone flagging right in front of Duncan’s booted feet. “It was kind of you, and I thank you for it.”

Duncan remained silent, and Aileana felt tingles of unease dance across her skin.

She didn’t dare look at him. When she finally glanced up, she saw a stricken look in place of the pompous arrogance she’d expected.

Yet in the blink of an eye he shuttered the expression in favor of a calm, level gaze.

“What I did was nothing I wouldn’t have done for anyone under my personal responsibility.”

Aileana’s stomach tightened and she resisted the urge to touch her swollen lips again. What he said couldn’t be true. She remembered, she’d felt his passionate tenderness after her fever broke.

Unless she’d been dreaming.

But then why did her lips feel as if they’d been kissed? Why did she recall the sweet, silken pressure of his mouth, the warmth of his breath against her cheek?

“I thought…” She swallowed and tried to focus her cloudy mind. “I thought that there was more. That it wasn’t just—”

“It was nothing.” Duncan’s face looked gray, and he turned his back on her to pace toward the windows while he continued talking.

“Plague fevers are known for the delirium they can cause.” He spun on his heel to face her again, though he wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“Bridgid will be up soon. Eat and then rest. I’ll be checking on you later. ”

Aileana forced herself to remain silent as he left the room.

Hurt and confusion sliced deep, compounding the weariness she already felt.

Ignoring the lump in her throat, she rolled to her side and pulled the coverlet over her shoulder.

Something was wrong. The way Duncan acted just now didn’t fit. Not with what she remembered.

Her body shook with a shuddering sigh, weariness weighing her down too much to think on it more. When she closed her eyes, welling tears spilled warm onto her cheeks, and she brushed them away quickly. But it wasn’t until many hours later that she finally fell into exhausted, troubled slumber.