Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

" N ae more, Beatrice." Murdoch tried to shake the maid off again. He left the keep door and marched across the courtyard, intent on returning to Eloise's side now that he had seen his father and brother that morning to give them an update on her condition.

He'd been shocked by how the news about the snake bite had affected his father. Fergus had paced up and down in his study for some time, explaining he had been sleepless the night before. He did not sit down until Murdoch gave him the good news that Callie and Wilson believed Eloise to be recovering.

"Murdoch," Beatrice called, racing to catch up with him. She cut in front of him, bringing him to a halt in the courtyard.

Staring at her dark eyes, he was shocked that at one point he had found her attractive, when now he felt nothing but a longing to escape her. He supposed the one night they had been together, he was in his cups. Nothing else really made sense.

"There is nae harm in it," she whispered and sidled toward him.

"Nae harm? Ye are aware ye are chasing a man who is betrothed tae another woman through this courtyard?" he asked sharply under his breath.

Her attempt at a sultry smile didn't even falter.

"I could be a mistress. I dinnae have tae replace her, Murdoch."

"Dae ye nae hear yerself?" he snapped and walked around her, the sharpness of his tone at last succeeding in making her smile fade. "I have nae wish tae return tae that one foolish night, Beatrice. Accept that."

He walked away, glancing back just once to check that she did not follow him. Her black hair that had escaped her plait shivered in the breeze. She did not hurry after him again.

"Madness," Murdoch muttered as he left the courtyard and hurried toward the river at the side of the estate, heading to Wilson's cottage.

Only a selfish woman would pursue a man when his betrothed has been fighting fer her life all night. Aye, true madness!

Murdoch repeatedly cursed under his breath as he reached for the cottage. Outside, he caught sight of Wilson in the river, up to his knees as he searched between the reeds. Callie was knelt on the riverbank, collecting some of the reeds together and weaving them.

"She's inside, Murdoch," Callie called to him, a much more calm expression on her face than the one he had seen the night before. "I have made Avery promise nae tae let her out of the bed."

"Aye, very well." Murdoch hurried into the cottage to find Avery standing from his position beside the bed. Murdoch's eyes shot to Eloise on the bed. She was awake, perhaps a little pale with her hair mussed from sleep, but otherwise she looked like her old self.

He stared at her, struggling to know what to say as the relief washed over him.

She could have died because I brought her here.

"Ahem." Avery cleared his throat, disturbing the quiet in the room. "I can tell I dinnae wish tae be here fer this conversation." He reached for his sister's shoulder and patted it comfortingly before turning his back and moving to the door. He offered Murdoch a small smile, a surprise after all the glares Murdoch had had from him over the last couple of days.

As the door closed behind Avery, Murdoch moved to the bed.

"How are ye feeling?"

"Tired." She yawned and placed an empty cup down on the table beside her. "I wish tae bathe, though I am under instruction from Callie I am nae permitted tae leave this bed." She huffed and dropped back on the pillows, folding her arms. "Can I at least have a bath?"

"I can arrange for one for ye, aye." He sat down on the bed beside her. "Some people would be delighted tae spend a day in bed."

"Well, I am nae one of them." She shook her head firmly. "I dinnae wish tae be idle when I feel fine."

"Fine?" he spluttered. "Do ye nae remember last night? Ye were quite out of it when ye woke in the middle of the night." He stared at her, wondering if she could remember how close they had been together and the way they had indulged in a kiss, even though there was no one there to see them. "I find it hard tae believe ye could be completely better so fast."

"I am nae saying I am completely better."

She didnae mention the kiss. Maybe she doesnae remember it.

"All I am saying is that I dinnae see much good coming from being in bed all day." She wriggled on the covers. "Can ye talk tae Callie? Get me out of this."

"Nay chance." He shook his head. "I shall follow the healer's orders."

"Infuriating man," she muttered with a playful glare.

"I am still the one that ran with ye here yesterday," he reminded her, arching a single brow.

"I didnae say I wasnae grateful." Her expression softened into a smile. There was something in that expression that pleased him so much, he couldn't deny her completely.

"How about this? If ye bathe and rest today, I shall ask Callie if she will allow ye tae have a short walk tomorrow."

"Aye, please dae." Eloise sat forward on the bed, looking so excited by such a simple prospect that he smiled. "Bring a book and we can walk in the garden. I could teach ye tae read, if ye like."

"Read?" He'd quite forgotten their promises to one another amongst all the turmoil, but plainly, Eloise hadn't, for she nodded keenly. "Aye, if ye wish it. I shall make the arrangements."

She smiled fully and sat back on the pillows once again. Murdoch stared at her for some minutes, not knowing what to say, but just content to be beside her and to know that she was out of danger.

Eloise hobbled down the pathway of the garden. Wrapped up in furs to fight the cold of the day, her hands were tempted to shiver in their gloves, though she tucked them under her arms to hide it.

"Ye are watching me like a hawk," she observed, glancing at Murdoch beside her.

"Aye, I am." He smiled and stood taller. "If ye show the slightest bit of tiredness, I will take ye back at once."

"Ye're nay fun."

"I'm here tae protect ye, nae tae amuse ye." His voice deepened so far that Eloise glanced toward him, shocked at that depth.

After another day of her imposed imprisonment in the bed, she was tired of doing nothing and thankful that she was at least allowed out this afternoon to walk through the dewy grounds. Early signs of spring were everywhere, with crocus and snowdrop heads pushing the ground in the borders of the garden. Eloise limped past them all, heading for a bench set between two tall yew bushes. Sitting down heavily, she sighed, wrapping her furs tightly around her body again.

"There. If I am sitting, then ye have nae reason tae take me back inside."

"Then dinnae let yerself shiver or I will find a reason tae carry ye back." He sat down beside her.

"Ye'd carry me again?" Her eyes shot toward him as an excitement took over. There was something about the idea of being carried by him again that did things to her. It conjured a heat to counteract the cold air.

"Perhaps." He smiled a little and reached into the thick, loose doublet he wore, pulling out a book. He handed it to her. "As ye requested, a book."

"Thank ye." She opened the book up and leaned toward him, determined to impart her lesson. "Now, have ye been taught anything about letters?"

Murdoch wriggled in his seat and folded his arms. Rather than looking at her or the book, he stared out across the garden.

Wait, is he embarrassed?

"A little but nae enough tae read freely," he whispered softly, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "I suppose ye think that is mad, dae ye nae?"

"Nae at all. Ye're a soldier," she reminded him. "Ye had nae cause tae learn." He scratched the back of his head, still clearly uncomfortable. Determined to distract him, she sidled along the bench, so her side bumped into his. He snapped his gaze toward her now, his rather awkward movements stilling. "Now, pay attention. This is when our lesson begins."

Eloise was pleasantly surprised at how well he listened to her now. She opened the book and taught him the letters, each in turn, before trying some of the simpler words. Murdoch worked hard, though he sat stiffly the whole time with his arms folded across his chest, as if trying to guard himself.

"Now, try this line." Eloise pointed to a line in the book.

"I feel like a child," Murdoch muttered with plain frustration in his tone.

Aye, there is a vulnerability tae him. One he doesnae want tae reveal tae anyone.

It made Eloise press her body to his side all the more, wanting to be closer to him and to let him know that he didn't need to feel this way in front of her. She didn't judge him for not knowing how to read.

"Try, please," Eloise whispered, tapping the line again. Murdoch breathed deeply and turned his focus down to the book.

"‘The intent… intentions of God may be hard fer us to read.'" Apart from his one stumble, the words fell surprisingly easily from his tongue. "‘Yet I believe God has reasons fer every… thing that he chooses.' This writer is a philosophical man," Murdoch muttered, shaking his head.

"Look how well ye did that," Eloise said, smiling in amazement. "Ye're a quick learner, Murdoch."

"I cannae tell if ye are genuinely complimenting me or being a little… patronizing."

"Complimenting!" She laughed and elbowed him in the side. "Give it a few weeks and ye'll gasp in awe at how easy it is fer ye tae read. Perhaps it's down tae having a good teacher?" At her jest, he laughed warmly, looking out across the garden again.

"Aye, perhaps." He nodded slowly. "A betrothed who can teach me tae read, eh? That's something I wasnae expecting." He laughed softly now.

Something in the words made Eloise stiffen. She thought before about what he had insinuated, that he was to marry another once.

Harper's sister.

A pained feeling twisted Eloise's gut. She realized with her hands tightening around the book in her grasp that it was jealousy, pure envy of the woman he was to marry.

Maybe he even asked this woman tae marry him, unlike me. He has only agreed tae marry me so my secret doesnae come out, and he can have a marriage of convenience.

"Would ye tell me about yer last betrothed?" she whispered, uncertain why she really asked the question.

Murdoch's laughter abruptly died.

"What did ye say?" He jerked his head toward her. Slowly, she looked up from the book, fidgeting all the more now.

"Ye said ye were tae marry before once. What was she like? What happened tae her?" Eloise had many questions she wished to ask, but they all died on her tongue when she saw Murdoch's expression.

His eyes narrowed to slits and he leaned away from her, so that there was no longer a part of their bodies that touched.

"Murdoch…" she whispered his name, disappointed at him pulling back from her.

"Why ask me these things?" he hissed, his anger plain.

"I wish tae ken about her, about ye. Is that so wrong?"

"Aye. Very wrong." He snapped suddenly. There was a coldness to him now as he stood from the bench.

"Murdoch, please, dinnae run off. I can hardly run after ye so easily in my state." She dropped the book on the bench beside them and moved forward, so she was perched on the very edge. "I just wish tae ken about her, about the betrothal ye had. There is nothing so wrong in that."

"There is!" His voice was loud, booming as he spun back to face her. The anger in his eyes was so strong, the muscles in his neck pulled taut, that Eloise cowered back on the bench, shocked at the display. "I willnae speak of her. We willnae talk of her again."

"Why nae?"

He loved her, did he nae? That is why he cannae talk about her. It is too painful fer him. Now he has tae marry a woman he cannae love. In the name of the Lord, he must hate the hand that God has dealt him in life.

"Murdoch?" she whispered his name again, but he marched away, clearly determined not to speak to her anymore on this subject. "Murdoch!" She scrambled to stand, but the soreness in her ankle was too strong when she put all her weight on it, and she fell back down to the bench again.

"Ye dinnae respect my privacy, Eloise, that is all," he shouted back to her. He abruptly returned, marching toward her and towering over her. "What dae ye nae understand about me nae wanting tae talk about it? Ye and I agreed early on we would nae pry into each other's secrets."

"What secrets do I have left from ye?" she reminded him, thinking of how she had told him about her father the night before. He shook his head and turned away, running his hands through his hair. She ached to see him turn from her so and this time, it had nothing to do with the soreness in her ankle.

"It's nae fair. Ye decided alone tae tell me about it and I appreciate that, but I'd never make ye tell me anything ye so obviously dinnae want tae." He walked off, not even glancing back at her.

She thought of trying to scramble after him again but knew it would do no good. She sat very still on the bench, her hands gripping to the seat beneath her as she watched him walk away. He turned at the end of the garden path and disappeared between more bushes. In her anger, she picked up the book beside her and gripped it hard, clinging onto it as if she was clinging onto him.

What is wrong with me? Why does his anger upset me so much?

She hung her head forward, breathing deeply as she tried to control herself. As jealous as she was about the idea of him marrying another, she knew he was right. It was not her place to pry into his private affairs. She had no true claim on his heart, only a pretend one for their marriage of convenience. It was nothing more than that.

I need tae apologize tae him.

Slowly, she stood from her place. She left the book behind on the bench and limped down the garden path, heading in the direction in which he had left. She ended up in a more isolated position than before, surrounded by yew trees and on a slim garden path that was bordered by white snowdrops. The trees were so high and thick that she couldn't see the castle and was no longer certain if she was heading toward it or away from it.

"Murdoch?" she called through the trees, hoping to see some sign of him, but there was none. "Murdoch!" she shouted again, but still, no answer.

Fearing that he might have slipped down another path, one she hadn't spotted at first, she turned on her heel and was about to head back the other way when she found two shadows looming in front of her. The two men were clothed in thick cloaks with heavy hoods pulled over their faces. One had a sword in his hand, the others' hands were bare.

"Take her," one said to the other.