4. Chapter Three

Lorena stared at herself in her looking glass. The gown she wore had been the one in which she'd married Avery. Mayhap she should change into another one since this one might bring bad luck.

Ach, the only bad luck she's had was a father who didn't recognize her and a husband and brother who took their fists to her. It had no'hing to do with the gown she wore. It had to do with her.

Attempts at having her brother and husband care for her never worked since they obviously found her wanting. Yes, she could give them the rough side of her tongue, but ‘twas her only defense. From what she'd seen so far, Craig MacKay was a nice man, but if she allowed herself to grow close to him, or even love him, she knew eventually he would turn on her and she'd be left with a broken heart.

She wouldn't mind staying here at Clyth Castle while he did whatever duties he needed to do for his laird, since Craig had already made it clear he would not tolerate David striking her. For the first time in her life, she saw the uncertainty in her brother's eyes when Craig spoke to him in a low, but very threatening voice.

This marriage might not be so bad after all. ‘Twould be ever better if he did leave her here in peace.

After releasing a deep sigh and one final glance in the looking glass, she left the room. ‘Twas time to get the wedding over with.

Her soon to be husband and the priest were in conversation when she entered the room. David was there, along with Craig's cousin, Giles. Her brother waved her on, as if she was holding things up. Apparently, it was too much to expect David to come to her and walk her to where the priest and Craig stood.

When Craig turned toward her, she almost lost her breath. His dark hair was tied back with a strip of leather, but part of the front fell to his forehead. His green eyes held her captive as she walked up to him. The man was uncommonly handsome. Was she to have a problem with the lasses falling all over him? She mentally shrugged. It didn't matter since their marriage would be spent mostly apart.

After giving her a warm smile, the priest joined their hands together and began the ceremony. She had been so excited the first time she married, anxious to catch all the words, all the promises and all the vows they made. It hadn't taken her longer than the wedding night to learn Avery had no intention of keeping any vows.

He'd taken very little time to prepare her young maiden body for his invasion. It was messy and painful, with no words of tenderness from her husband, who rolled off her when he was finished and fell promptly asleep.

She forced herself to look at Craig while they spoke their vows. There was honor and no falsehood in those eyes, but should she believe what she saw? He even offered her a slight, crooked smile as she fumbled. He squeezed her hands and she immediately felt calmer. Foolish. That's what she was. He might act the honorable man now, but what happens when they are alone?

With all the thoughts running through her head, she was surprised when Craig leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. Her eyes flew open just as he pulled back. "'Tis o'er."

She took a deep breath and looped her arm into his. They made their way from the kirk to inside the great hall where a wedding feast had been arranged. Since it was so early in the day, it would be more breakfast.

They took their seats at the dais and soon the maids entered the room carrying platters of boiled eggs, fried pork, vegetables, and warm bread. Lorena looked at the food as the scent wafted toward her and her stomach immediately turned over.

"Are ye all right? Ye turned quite pale." Craig studied her, a look of concern on his face.

"I am well. I believe I prefer a mug of herb water rather than the ale." As she went to get up, Craig placed his hand on her arm and waved to one of the maids. "Please bring your lady a mug of herb water." He looked at Lorena. "Do ye want particular herbs?"

Surprised at what he'd done, she nodded and turned to the maid, telling her which herbs to mix with hot water. As the lass walked away, she looked at Craig. "Ye dinna have to do that. I can get things for myself."

"Aye, I am sure ye can, but ‘tis yer wedding feast and ye are no' a maid."

Before she could answer back, he turned toward Knox who sat on his other side and asked him a question.

As the meal went on, she felt worse by the minute. Her stomach continued to churn, and she began to feel hot all over. Her head pounded and just the sight of the food in front of her made her feel as though she was about to bring up, right at the table, the little bit she'd eaten.

Morena, the maid who had fetched her the drink came back and looked at her. "Are ye unwell, my lady? Ye look pale."

Hearing Morena's words, Craig turned to her and frowned. "Ye doona look well at all."

"Nay." She shook her head and then winced as it made her headache worse. "I ne'er get sick, but I think the time has arrived."

Craig stood and reached out for her. "Allow me to escort ye to the bedchamber."

"I'm no' sure I can e'en move." She stood, stumbled, and collapsed into her husband's arms.

***

Craig caught her just in time, before she would land on the stone floor. He shuffled her so he held her in his arms and looked at the young maid who had been speaking to Lorena. "Please show me to my wife's bedchamber."

The lass started forward and The Gunn raised his mug and said, "Ye're that anxious to bed the lass?" ‘Twas obvious from his slurred words and red eyes that it hadn't taken the laird long to consume more alcohol than necessary.

"My wife is apparently sick. She has a fever and is quite pale. I'm taking her to her room. Please have a servant summon the healer to meet us there."

Gunn took another sip of what must have been whisky for him to be that drunk already and waved at another young maid. "Go fetch the healer and send her to Lorena's bedchamber."

Craig left the room and followed the maid down a corridor and up a flight of stairs. She led him to a room at the corner. He walked inside and placed Lorena on the bed. She was very warm and flushed in her face.

He turned to the maid who stood watching Lorena, wringing her hands. "Can you please undress her and leave her in her shift. I will await the healer outside the door." As her husband, he had every right to remove her clothing, but considering they had just married, he thought it best to have the lass do it, or he would only make himself eager to consummate the marriage, which she was in no condition to do.

While he waited, he remembered upon entering her room that nothing seemed to have been packed and prepared for departure. There was no trunk, and all her trinkets were spread out on a table in front of a looking glass. He was quite sure had he looked in her wardrobe he would find her clothes hanging on hooks.

An older woman hurried toward him, the young maid behind her. "I am Bridget, the clan healer. What has happened to the poor lass?"

"I believe she has some sort of sickness. Her body is verra warm and she passed out at the dining table. She also asked a maid for some herbal water since she said her stomach was no' feeling well, either."

"Ah, the poor lass. And on her wedding day, too." She looked at Craig. "If ye wish to return to the great hall, I can send word after I've examine her."

He shook his head. "It doesna seem the right thing to do to celebrate when the bride is in her bed, sick."

The healer gave him a slight smile and nodded. "Ye can take the chair o'er there." She gestured toward the two chairs in front of the hearth against the wall.

Craig settled himself and watched as the healer worked. He'd seen this type of illness before, in fact he'd suffered from it himself about a year before. ‘Twas obvious they wouldna be traveling tomorrow as he'd planned.

It also seemed obvious that there would be no wedding night for him. He leaned his head on the back of the chair and studied the healer as she worked. Lorena woke up and he heard her speaking softly to the healer.

After a short time, Bridget gave instructions to the young maid who left and then the healer walked over to him. "She is suffering from sweating sickness. As long as she drinks a lot of liquid and rests in her bed she should be fine in a week or two."

"A week or two? When will she able to travel?"

Bridget studied him for a minute. "Let's see how she does. I doona recommend her traveling until she is free of the fever and feels up to it." She patted him on the shoulder. "'Tis sorry I am that the poor lass is sick on yer wedding day."

Based on the woman's face, he was sure she was referring to his planned activities when the celebration was over, and they were alone in the room. He ran his hand down his face. "I will sit with her and make sure she doesna need ye again."

Once the healer left the room, Craig pulled the chair up to the side of the bed. Lorena turned toward him. "I am sorry to be sick."

"Doona fash yerself. ‘Twas no' something ye could help."

She nodded and closed her eyes.

‘Twould be a long night and certainly not the one he'd planned on.