Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

E loise dropped to the ground beside Murdoch as he fell to his knees. One of his hands planted to the floor, barely keeping himself up. The second figure, the one no longer hooded, had driven a knife into Murdoch's shoulder.

"Help!" Eloise screeched the word, knowing it was their best chance now. The strength of her scream made the two men back up.

"Ye killed him?" the one man who was still hooded hissed to his friend. The other shrugged, clearly uncertain what he had done.

Lost and confused, Eloise held onto Murdoch as he fell forward.

"Nay, Murdoch." She gripped to him, not letting him completely fall in the dirt. "Ye stay awake, ye hear me? Ye have tae stay awake now?" He was too heavy and rolled off her lap, ending up in the dirt. She lifted his shoulders and head, pulling him back into her lap. He was barely awake, grimacing at the pain in his shoulder.

"Eloise…?" he whispered. "Staunch… staunch it."

She glanced up at the assailants, fearing what they would do next.

"Help!" she shouted again as she reached down for Murdoch's belt, unlatching it hurriedly.

Footsteps came running, guards shouting.

"This way."

"It came from over here."

The two assailants back up, with the one bearing the bloodied dagger letting it drop beside him.

"We have tae go," the first man said, hurrying back and dragging his friend with him.

Eloise worked fast. She pressed a handkerchief from the sleeve of her gown against the wound in Murdoch's shoulder and used his belt to wrap it around the wound, pulling it taut. He grunted in pain, one of his boots thrusting down into the ground.

"Tighter," he muttered.

Her heart twisted in pain, but knew she had to do as he said to stop the flow of blood. She tightened the belt on his shoulder and the grunt grew louder. She gripped to his good shoulder, holding him tight as the sounds of the guards grew closer.

Down the end of the path, there was a scuffle as the assailants were met by the guards. There was another in the group that Eloise recognized – it was Clyde.

He seemed transformed. No longer the happy man with the easy smile she had seen over the last few days, but with an expression that was hardened. He advanced toward one of the assailants with a sword. When the hooded man attempted to fight back, trying to cut Clyde, he came up against a stronger opponent. Clyde cut away the weapon as if the hooded man was a child playing with a stick. He cut across the hooded man's hand next then ran him through.

"Oh God," Eloise muttered, looking away from the bloodshed as she turned her face down to Murdoch.

"How bad?" he whispered, trying to raise a hand to where she had staunched the wound. "Eloise, how bad?"

"I… I dinnae ken," she whispered, shaking her head. "We need tae get ye tae Callie and Wilson." She shifted her hold to around his waist, trying to help lift him.

"Give me a minute more." He sank down again. It had to be the blood loss, making him lightheaded.

"Oh, Murdoch." She bent toward him, not really thinking about what was happening down the path and the great sounds of pain. All she could think of was him. She bent her head down toward him and kissed him on the forehead, blinking madly as she tried to fight tears. "This never should have happened."

His hand curled briefly around her arm, then his touch loosened. She wished he'd hold on tighter again.

"What is this? What is happening?" Fergus' voice boomed across the garden.

Eloise looked up to see Clyde had killed one of the assailants and the other laid on the floor, dying from his wounds. Clyde pulled back the hood of one of the men and looked between them.

"I diinnae ken them, dae ye?" he asked his father hurriedly.

"Nay. They could from the Douglas clan, sent tae cause us trouble."

Eloise was not so certain. Those men had come for her. They'd grabbed her in the garden when they could have harmed anyone else at any point. She feared this could be something much more personal.

What if those men were hired by the likes of Stewart? Aye, it's a mad idea, but is it nae possible?

The thought that she could be responsible for Murdoch being stabbed made her feel sick. She fought the bile that threatened to rise in her throat.

"Clyde!" she shouted for him. "It's Murdoch. We need tae get him tae the healers."

Clyde was already sprinting down the path toward her before she could finish her words. He hurried to her side and reached for Murdoch's wound.

"Argh! Careful, brother," Murdoch hissed at the pain.

"Ye're bleeding, badly."

"Then tighten the bloody tourniquet further," Murdoch ordered.

"Hold on tight, brother," Clyde urged.

Eloise reached for Murdoch's hand, giving him something to hold onto as Clyde reached for the belt. He adjusted it then pulled it down harshly, in a way that Eloise had been too nervous to do. An almighty roar escaped Murdoch's lips as he gripped Eloise's hand.

"That's better. Right, I am going tae lift ye," Clyde urged. "Are ye ready fer this? Eloise, I'll take him. Ye need tae look after that ankle."

She nodded, feeling all of a sudden so useless when she wanted nothing more than to take this pain away from him.

Clyde shifted Murdoch's good arm around his shoulders then lifted him from the ground. Fergus appeared, running toward the two of them, with fear in his eyes.

"Nay, nay. Me boy." Fergus' voice was tight with emotion.

Eloise went straight to him, taking Fergus' hand.

"Wilson and Callie are the best ones tae help him now." She fought her tears, determined to be strong despite the pain.

"Aye, aye. Ye are right." Fergus sniffed, clearly trying to fight his own temptation to cry for his son as Murdoch was led away by Clyde. "Guards! Follow me! We are tae hunt the whole ground. If there's any more of these men lying about, I wish tae find them. Follow me."

For a brief second, Eloise glimpsed the younger warrior that Fergus had once been. He led his guards away, striding out fiercely in front of them all, his face flushed red.

Eloise hurried to chase after Clyde and Murdoch, struggling with her ankle to catch up with them both. She rounded the two hooded men on the ground that were surrounded by guards, wishing to keep as wide a berth of them as possible.

Why are they here?

She saw it all again so easily in her mind, how they had blocked her path and one had reached for her. She had fought against them but was not strong enough as they both tussled with her, trying to keep her still, then covering her mouth to silence her.

Eloise eventually caught up with Clyde and Murdoch as they left the gardens, heading toward the healer's cottage by the river. Murdoch said nothing. He walked on silently, his body at a crooked angle as he leaned on his brother.

"Come on, Murdoch," Clyde whispered repeatedly. "We're almost there. Nearly there now."

Eloise raced at their side, until they reached the cottage. Avery stood outside of the cottage, watching on as Callie and Wilson discussed the plants they had found in the river. All three heads turned to face Murdoch as they approached.

She hurried ahead, hobbling on her ankle to tell them of what had happened in fragmented and panicked sentences.

"He's been stabbed. In the shoulder. Two men, he tried tae stop them from… He's hurt." She waved back at Murdoch.

"In here." Wilson beckoned them all into the cottage.

The bed Eloise had been laid in before had now been changed. Clyde and Avery laid Murdoch down on the bed as Callie and Wilson discussed the best course of action.

"Take off his shirt," Wilson urged. "We need tae get a good look at this wound."

Eloise went to help Clyde as he removed the tourniquet, and they pulled the shirt over his head. Murdoch hissed between his teeth but didn't grunt with the pain again. As he laid back down on the pillows, Eloise felt that sense of nausea returning at the sight of the wound. It was bloody indeed, no longer held together by the belt.

"Here, this will help." Callie drenched a rag in some sort of liquid and passed it to Wilson. He placed it down on Murdoch's wound and now he grunted in pain, moving against his hold. Avery went to hold Murdoch down on the bed by his other shoulder. "It will hurt, but it will help."

Eloise fidgeted at the side of the bed until Callie moved to her side.

"Ye can go," Callie whispered. "I can call ye when we ken something of his condition."

"Nay. I wish tae stay." Eloise refused, shaking her head.

"But… it will be hard tae watch."

"That doesnae concern me." Eloise looked at Callie, feeling the strength in her own words. "Give me something tae dae, something tae help him, or I shall go mad."

"Aye, as ye wish." Callie reached for her arm, comfortingly. "Ye can help me mix together the salve for the wound as they stitch him back together."

Eloise followed Callie to a bench at the back of the room. Repeatedly, she glanced back, watching as Wilson sewed Murdoch back together and Avery held him down. There wasn't time to give Murdoch a sedative to knock him out, so he had to bear with the pain of being sewn together fully awake. He moaned loudly, trying not to cry out.

As Callie returned to the bed to assist Wilson, Eloise was left alone to follow Callie's instructions in mixing the ingredients for the salve. Another moved to her side, distracting her. It was Clyde. He could not stand still, and his face had turned deathly pale as he stared at his brother.

"He's strong, my brother," Clyde whispered. "He will pull through this, will he nae?"

She realized that he was perhaps intending to offer comfort, but it was at a time when he needed it too.

"Aye, he is strong," she murmured and hurried in her task with the pestle and mortar.

"He is a lucky man too." Clyde sighed.

"Lucky?" Eloise repeated in amazement.

There is nae a thing lucky about this situation!

"Tae have ye tae watch over him like this." Clyde turned back and nodded at what she was doing, affecting a small smile. "Aye, nae many women have this much love in them for a man. Nae that I have seen." He sighed deeply. "Aye, lucky indeed."

The way he spoke broke Eloise. He thought she loved Murdoch, and the truth was that she had no idea what she did feel for him. All she knew was that this hurt. She couldn't bear to see Murdoch in this agony anymore. Hot tears slipped down her cheeks and Clyde opened his arms to her, offering her an embrace. She went to him, clinging onto him, as if he was her true blood brother.

"He'll be well again," Clyde muttered as they held onto one another. "He has tae be. Murdoch hasnae been defeated yet."

Eloise looked over his arm to see Murdoch on the bed, still being held down by Avery as Wilson sewed up the wound and Callie offered up the first of the salves. All she could see was Murdoch's legs. One twitched on the bed as he tried to hold himself as still as he could.

Murdoch shifted on the bed. The pain in his shoulder was sudden as he sat up, suddenly wide awake. He groaned at the pain, then sat very still as he realized the healer's cottage was flooded with candlelight.

"I think they gave ye the same sedative they gave me," a soft voice called from the corner of the room. Murdoch shifted around on the bed, feeling surprisingly awake as he sought Eloise out.

She approached from the corner of the room, carrying two cups in her hands. She placed one down on the table beside him and perched on the edge of the bed.

"Eloise?" Murdoch whispered, his mind working fast as he took everything in.

He remembered being stitched up then a cup of something was forced into his lips. He'd seen many faces, Avery's, Clyde's, Callie's, Wilson's, and lastly Eloise's before he had fallen asleep. That had to be some hours ago as it was now pitch black beyond the windows. The orange candles that Eloise had lit flooded the space around the room with amber light.

"How are ye feeling?" Eloise asked, offering one of the cups of water to him. He took it, very aware of how their fingers brushed together on the rim.

"Like I've been stabbed." He sighed and sat back on the pillows. When she grimaced, appearing in pain herself, he shook his head. "It's hardly the first time I have been stabbed, Eloise."

"So I see," she whispered, chewing on her lip as she looked down at his chest.

Murdoch looked down at himself, sat up on the pillows. The blankets were pulled up around his hips, with his trews, but his chest was completely bare, revealing all the scars that were on his chest.

"Ye have been hurt so many times over the years." Eloise's voice shook. "I am sorry ye were hurt today because of me."

"Ye?" Murdoch shook his head, baffled by the words. "Ye were in my father's estate, Eloise, and ye were attacked. That is nae yer doing."

She hung her head, looking down at her lap as she fidgeted with her gown. There was something about seeing her in this way tonight, this demure and nervous look that affected him strongly. He leaned toward her a little.

"What happened tae the men?"

"Yer brother killed them," she whispered. "Yer father searched the ground fer any others, but there was nae one else. Yer father thought they may have been from the Douglas clan, but…"

"Who can be certain," he whispered, finishing the sentence before she could.

His head tilted to the side as he watched her. He felt strangely at ease, even with the pain in his shoulder.

"I'll live just fine, will I nae?" he asked.

"Aye. Thank God," she said, her voice thick with emotion. She avoided looking at him, her eyes on her lap as she fidgeted. "Callie and Wilson say we staunched the wound before ye could lose too much blood. They have hope ye will recover fast, as long as ye dinnae dae anything too active in the meantime."

"Active, eh?" He sighed and sat back on the pillows, placing the cup down on the table beside him. "I've heard such orders all before."

At his words, Eloise's eyes shot to his chest again. He realized in his new position that the candlelight must have fallen much cleaner on those scars, revealing all the white jagged lines. Eloise moved a little along the bed, coming closer to him. Murdoch masked the way his breath caught in his throat at her movements.

There was a heat beneath his skin at her coming so close when he wore so little.

"How did you get this one?" She raised a hand toward him and laid her fingers on his good shoulder. He breathed in deeply at her touch, shocked by the effect her light fingers could have on him. He looked down, seeing the deep white gash that ran from his left shoulder down to the middle of his chest.

"A sword strike. In a fight fer Laird Chattan," he said softly. "One of many."

"And this?" She moved her hand down his chest. It was a fingertip brush. He breathed deeply once more, feeling a stirring in his body, not wanting her to stop. She halted in the middle of his chest.

"That is a burn mark," he said, not needing to look at his scars. He looked at her face instead, marking the way her lips parted in wonder, before she frowned.

"So much pain," she whispered, her voice quiet indeed. "Ye have suffered so much, Murdoch."

"I never regret me scars," he assured her. "They are a mark of the extent I was willing tae go tae keep another safe."

She smiled, rather sadly, as her fingers continued to drift down his chest. When she stopped near his abdomen, that stirring in his gut grew greater still.

"What of this one? What caused this?" She ran her fingers along a deep slash across the lower part of his abdomen, just above the line of his trews.

"That was a wayward dirk from a man in a fight," he said, his voice now so deep that he barely recognized it himself. "I…" he couldn't stop that stirring feeling. He watched as her eyes widened, her gaze shooting further south still. "I cannae stop that." He sighed, knowing now that she had seen the way his length had hardened at her touch. He was protruding against his trews and the blanket, standing tall. "Ye are running yer hands all over me, Eloise."

"I am barely touching ye," she whispered. Her hand flattened more to his stomach, and he inhaled sharply, not wanting her to stop.

"The touch is enough," he murmured, leaning toward her off the pillows. "Ye are curious about me."

"I couldnae hide that, even if I wished tae." Her eyes still danced over him. He felt strangely admired at that look, a sensation he'd never had before in his life. He usually felt like a fool, an illiterate brute, but the way Eloise looked at him made him feel entirely different. "Thank ye, Murdoch, for what ye did today."

"Getting stabbed?" he asked in a light tease.

"Being willing tae have another scar, tae save me," she whispered, her gaze lifting to meet his.

Something in that look shook him. He figured that maybe the sedative had had a stronger effect on him than he'd realized after all as he found the truth falling from his lips.

"I couldnae bear the idea of ye being hurt, Eloise." He reached toward her, without thinking much about it and gently took hold of her head, steering her lips to his. She made no sign of pulling back, allowing him to take a kiss.