6. Chapter Five

Lorena tossed and turned on her bed, her shift and bedclothes wet with sweat. Her hair felt sticky and while the heat from the fever was gone, she still felt weak and somewhat nauseous.

Her brother had never allowed her a personal maid, so it had always been her job to find a maid to arrange a bath. She took a quick glance in her looking glass and realized if she went in search of a maid they might begin to arrange for her burial.

She opened the door and looked down the corridor. No maids. She returned to her room and attempted to comb some of the tangles out of her hair. Without much luck, she grabbed a dressing gown from the bottom of the bed and wrapped it around her. She'd gone no more than a few steps outside her door when she had to lean against the wall, a bout of weakness overcoming her.

"Lady Lorena!" One of the guardsmen strode up to her. "Are ye unwell, lass?"

"Aye. Can ye find me a maid and ask for her to have a bath set up?"

He studied her for a moment. "Can ye make it back to yer bed?"

She nodded. "Aye." She drew herself up and walked slowly back to her door and entered her bedchamber. She held her hand up to her forehead. No fever, but the weakness and body aches continued.

Black dots appeared in her eyes, and she took a deep breath and made it to the bed where she collapsed. Sometime later a soft knock on her door made her realize she'd fallen asleep. "Aye."

One of the maids entered with a string of men carrying the bathtub and buckets of water. She lay on the bed watching them, too weak to move. How was she to take a bath without drowning?

"Here now, what's this?" Bridget had entered the room, making her way over to Lorena.

"I'm having a bath."

The healer shook her head. "I doona think ‘tis a good idea, lass. Ye seem verra weak. Ye're liable to drown yerself."

The weakness, nausea and body aches got to her, and she began to weep. "I need a bath."

Just then Craig entered the room, clean, his hair still damp from his swim in the loch, carrying a bundle of dirty clothes under his arm. "What is wrong?" He dropped the clothes by the door and walked over to Lorena. Sitting alongside her on the bed, he put his arm around her and looked at Bridget.

"The lass wants a bath, but she's verra weak. I'm afraid she'll drown herself."

"Are there no maids to assist her?"

"Nay, they are all preparing for the evening meal. I canno' assist her because I was on my way to see one of my soon-to-be mothers whose husband sent for me since she's having pains, and he is all in a dither."

Craig looked down at Lorena and used his thumb to wipe the tears from her face. "I will help ye with yer bath."

With that problem apparently solved, the men, the maid who brought the men with her and Bridget all left the room.

Lorena sighed and leaned against Craig's powerful chest. "Ye canno' help me with my bath."

He shrugged. "Everyone has left, it appears if ye want a bath, yer choices are limited."

She hung her head, the greasy, sticky mess of hair falling in her face. Most of her life she'd taken her own baths since servants were few both here and at her deceased husband's home. She weighed the two options in her mind. A continued smelly, sticky body or allowing this man—her husband she reminded herself—to help her.

"Aye." ‘Twas not the time for modesty. She looked up at Craig. "I would ask ye if ye ever helped a lass take a bath, but I'm afraid of yer answer."

He grinned and said, "Stand up so I can remove yer clothes."

Thankfully, she was too sick to care that she would be naked in front of her new husband. With a gentleness she didn't think a warrior capable of, Craig slid the dressing gown off her, and eased her shift up her body and over her head. Before she could even blush, he lifted her and carried her to the bathtub. He eased her down and she sighed as the warm water washed over her.

"Ye'll have to tell me where yer special soaps and things are." His voice seemed rather raspy.

She sat up, and when she realized her breasts had left the water, she slid back down and pointed to her wardrobe. "There is a box in there with my soap and oils that I generally pour into the water."

He brought the things over to her, looking a bit nervous. Was he afraid she would drown while he watched? "You will need to go to the kitchen to get a warm linen to dry me."

Craig cleared his throat and smiled. A very strange sort of smile. "I shall be right back. Doona drown."

Lorena poured the oil into the water and sat back to relax.

***

Craig wiped the sweat from his forehead and took in a deep breath. When he offered to help Lorena with her bath, he knew it would be difficult seeing her entire nude body, but he had no idea how very hard it would be.

She was a beautiful woman. All soft curves, plump breasts and generous bottom. How he would get through her bath without taking her in the bathtub, drowning them both, would be a challenge. He must keep reminding himself that although she was his wife, and he had the right to enjoy her body, she was sick.

He counted on his fingers. She had been sick since their wedding day, for eight days. Recently she started being fever free for a day and when they both thought the illness was over, all the symptoms returned for another day or two. At this rate, they would never leave Clyth Castle.

And more importantly, he'd never get the chance to run his hands over those lovely curves.

When he entered the kitchen to get the linen drying cloth, Agnes, the castle cook turned to him from the large kettle she was dropping vegetables into. "Yer lady needs to eat. Every time I send something up with a maid, it comes back down again."

He threw the linen over his shoulder. "I'll be in our bedchamber for a while, so if ye send food up, I'll make sure she eats."

Agnes nodded. "I'll send up one of Bridget's healing tonics for the patient, too."

When he entered the bedchamber Lorena was sound asleep in the water. He tapped her cheek. "M'Eudail." She slowly opened her eyes and smiled. His heart thundered and he had to use all his control to keep from hauling her out of the bathtub.

He tossed her the smaller linen. "Here, ye can wash yerself, aye?"

Lorena sat up, no doubt forgetting her lovely breasts, plump with rose colored nipples, stared up at him. She reached for the cloth and rubbed the soap on it.

"When ye're finished, I'll help ye wash yer hair."

He left her side and walked the room, trying very hard to keep himself calm. "Are ye finished yet?"

"What's the hurry? I'm enjoying something for the first time in a verra long time."

Realizing he was acting out of selfish reasons, he smiled. "Aye, I'm sorry, lass. Ye can take yer time."

Just then there was a knock on the door, and he prayed it was a maid who could take over his duty. He opened the portal and a maid stood there, but she carried a tray with food. "Here is the evening meal for Lady Lorena."

He ran his fingers through his hair. "Aye. Ye can put it on the table over there." He waved in the direction of the bed. He walked out the door with the maid. "Is it possible for ye to help my wife with her bath?"

"Nay, ‘tis sorry I am Mister Craig, but we're getting ready to bring the food out to the great hall for the evening meal."

He nodded. "Aye. Doona let me keep ye from yer duties then lass."

As soon as he closed the door, a soft voice like one he'd heard many times in the darkness of night, sharing a bed with a warm lass said, "Can ye do my hair now? I'm getting sleepy again."

I can do his. I can do this. I can do this. He smiled at his wife. "Aye. Let me get the jug."

He managed to wash her hair, then rinse it. It would not have been so hard if she hadn't been moaning with pleasure as the water washed over her body. He placed the jug on the floor and grabbed the dying cloth. "Here ye go, lass." Grabbing her under her arm, he pulled her from the bath.

"Goodness, Craig, ye're hurting me."

"'Tis sorry I am." He lifted her from the tub, dried her as quickly as he could, keeping his eyes closed most of the time. "Where do ye have more night clothes?"

She waved to the wardrobe. He wrapped her in the linen, not wanting to see anymore of her lovely body. Once he had her in a fresh shift and the same dressing gown she wore before, he escorted her over to the bed. "In ye go, lass. They brought yer supper."

She looked at him oddly. "Is something amiss? Ye're certainly looking strange and ye seem to be in quite a hurry."

"Nay, no' at all. I'm just anxious to see ye settled in bed."

"After I eat, I need to sit by the hearth and brush my hair dry."

Now that she was dressed and settled in bed with the blankets practically up to her chin as he'd placed them, he felt himself calm down. He pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat. "Agnes said to make sure ye eat, she seems to thin ye're returning too much food on the trays she sends."

"Aye. Sometimes I am verra hungry and other times I feel as though if I eat one bite I will bring it all up."

Craig shifted and rested his foot on his knee. "I remember when I had sweating sickness. No' something I'd want to have again."

It was quite pleasant between them. She seemed less sharp-tongued when she was sick. Mayhap he could arrange for her to be sick more often. When he re-thought that he realized if she was continually sick, he'd never get her into bed to do anything except nurse her.

They chatted amicably while she ate. Then he sat her by the hearth so she could brush her hair. "I will be back after I eat to see ye settled." As he opened the door, he said, "Agnes also sent up a healing potion for ye to take. I'll give it to ye when I return."

"Where have ye been?" Giles asked as he walked up to him.

"In hell."

"What?"

"No'hing. Doona fash yerself. I'm hungry and I also need a mug of whisky."

Giles studied him and shrugged. They both headed to the table. Giles had already eaten, so he sat with Craig as he ate, and then followed with a mug of whisky, and lots of conversation so he could delay his return to his bedchamber until Lorena was asleep.

***

Lorena sat brushing her hair, beginning to feel weak again. Having Craig help her with her bath had no' been pleasant. First she was embarrassed at him stripping her out of her clothes and lifting her into the bathtub.

He seemed a bit nervous himself. Although she was quite sure naked women were not something new to him. He was kind and considerate. She was reluctant to have a kind and considerate husband. She certainly didn't want another husband like the one she had before, but she didn't want to fall in love with a man who she was married to and had control over her. Those days have passed.

She was fighting her illness, otherwise she would have no problem pushing him away. She had to be stronger. What she wanted was for him to leave so she would be safe from making a fool of herself and loving a man who would one day disappoint her. If not with his fists, then most likely with another woman.

She'd learned a little bit about Craig MacKay when she'd visited Dun Ugadale as David was trying to match up her and the MacKay laird. She saw how the lasses fell all over him, giving him looks. No doubt once he had her in his bed, he would grow bored and eventually find other women.

When David told her that Robin MacKay had signed the betrothal agreement, she was not happy, but not as angry as she was when her brother agreed to have Craig take the laird's place. He was a man who liked the lasses, and he them. She had no desire to be made a fool of by a wandering husband.

Her hair was dried, and she was feeling quite sleepy when Craig returned to the bedchamber. She might as well begin her campaign to put up a wall between them. She straightened her shoulders. "Why are ye still here?"

He stopped in his tracks and looked at her. "What do ye mean?"

"I thought ye would return to yer duties at Dun Ugadale. I'm sure the laird needs ye."

He placed his hands on his hips, stretching his leine over his muscular chest, separating the flaps at the neck to reveal some of the dark curly hair that she knew led to a very interesting place. But she could not let that distract her from her intention to drive him away.

He began to remove his clothes. "I sent a message to Robin when ye first fell sick. He kens I will return when ye are better."

She waved him off and returned to bed. "Ye doona need to stay here and treat me like a bairn. There are servants to assist me."

"Aye. Like the one who showed up to help ye with yer bath."

She tugged up the bedclothes and stared at him. "I could have done it by myself."

"Whatever is wrong with ye, wife? Ye could hardly stand when I entered the bedchamber before. If ye did yer own bath, there is a good chance we'd be planning yer funeral."

She waved her hand in dismissal. "Well, I'm ready to go to sleep now, so ye can leave."

"Whate'er is wrong with ye, lass? I plan to sleep here just as I have since we married."

She sniffed and raised her chin. "I prefer to sleep alone. I ne'er asked ye to sleep here."

He began to yank off his boots. "Did ye drink the healing potion Agnes sent up for ye?"

Why did he have to be so nice? Why did he have to care about her? She wanted him—if not out of her life—at least out of her home. Craig MacKay was a man too easy to fall in love with.

Once he was stripped of his clothing, he walked to the other side of the bed and climbed in. "I am tired Lorena. I doona wish to argue with ye. I worked hard at the lists today and need my sleep."

"Ha! Strong warrior. Worn out by a day at the lists." She turned away from him. "I guess the MacKay men aren't as strong as the Gunns."

He growled and she smiled. Her plan had started. She would drive him away and be left in peace with no threat from David with Craig's warning to never touch her again.

Satisfied, she closed her eyes and immediately images of Craig helping her bathe, and making sure she took her healing potion brought twinges to her stomach.

It was surely the sweating sickness.