Chapter Twenty-One

All that night and all the next day, Austin tirelessly tended to Fiona as she battled the fever inside the tent. He remained vigilant by her side, ensuring she stayed hydrated by compelling water and herbal concoctions past her parched lips. He continued with the cloths dipped in cool water to wipe her brow, attempting to bring down her temperature. Whenever she thrashed in delirium, he held her gently, whispering soothing words to calm her troubled mind.

As the fever spiked, Austin desperately resorted to intuition, sharing body heat to stabilize her temperature. Stripping off his tunic, he lay beside Fiona, pulling her close to him. Their skin-to-skin contact allowed for the transfer of body heat, his cooler body absorbing some of her feverish warmth. She was wracked by constant shivering, her body trying to fight the illness, and he hoped that his closeness would provide some relief.

Often in her restless slumber, she muttered incomprehensible words through trembling lips, but seemed to frequently be calmed by Austin's low voice.

And yet, his concern only deepened with each passing hour. Her normally vibrant features were gaunt and pallid, her breaths shallow and uneven. He found himself praying for her recovery, his heart aching for her suffering.

The Rose clan, under Fraser's command, had ventured to Oathlaw, meaning to lay their trap. The departure was marked by urgency and resolve, with Fraser giving Austin stern instructions to keep Fiona safe. So now the camp, which should have bustled with activity, felt eerily quiet and desolate, save for the faint rustling of leaves and the soft murmurs of the forest.

Left alone with Fiona and surrounded by the dense woods but thankfully no more a persistent rain, the isolation heightened Austin's sense of responsibility, and his desperation.

As the hours stretched on, Austin's tireless care began to yield small signs of progress. The fever, once raging uncontrollably, seemed to abate ever so slightly. Fiona's restless tossing and murmuring grew less frequent, replaced by moments of stillness and quietude.

In the dim light of the tent, Fiona's breathing steadied, no longer labored by the oppressive weight of the fever. Her skin, once flushed and hot to the touch, now felt cool and clammy beneath his fingertips. It was a small victory, but one that filled him with a glimmer of hope.

On the third day since his arrival, and almost two days after the Roses had left, Fiona finally stirred.

Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing green eyes dulled by exhaustion but not without a spark of awareness. She blinked slowly, as if struggling to reconcile the hazy remnants of her fevered delirium with the reality of her surroundings—and possibly Austin's presence.

"Aye, ?tis nae dream," he advised her, seated on the ground at her side.

Her gaze strayed toward the open tent flap, where sunshine cast an abundant light.

"But how?" she asked, returning her regard to Austin. "Why?" Her voice was naught but a hoarse whisper.

"Because at yer side is where I'm meant to be," he said.

"I dinna understand," she confessed, weary, and closed her eyes again.

An hour after that, determined that the worst had passed, Austin began dressing her, convinced that she would be appalled to discover herself naked, certainly once she understood that he had tended her over the last few days, and until she understood fully the meaning behind his presence.

As he carefully clothed her in braies, breeches, and her short linen shift and tunic—laundered to the best of his ability under the circumstances—he marveled at the graceful curves of her body. Grooming her now was driven not by desire but was an act of care and devotion. Though he couldn't deny the allure of her lush curves and tantalizing figure, his intentions were purely benevolent presently, guided by a want to ensure her comfort and dignity.

Later, soon, he would appreciate her body in another manner, but for now, his attention was mostly utilitarian.

When she was garbed appropriately, though the breeches were crooked on her waist and she wore no hose and her feet were bare, Austin wrapped her in one of the long breacans and scooped her into his arms, carrying her outside the tent. The air was cool but not cold and scarcely did a breeze ruffle her hair. He'd stoked the camp's fire moments ago and sat now on a thick, knee-high seat of stone near its warmth, cradling Fiona in his arms, taking a moment to ensure her feet were covered by the length of the wool plaid.

Clean fresh air was what she needed now, followed by water and sustenance when she woke next. He was pleased, almost immediately, to see in the light of day that a faint flush of color had returned to her cheeks.

Only minutes after he sat, she drew in a deep, restorative breath, as if she sensed the better quality of air even in her slumber. Her long dark lashes twitched shortly thereafter, and again her eyes struggled to open.

She squinted harshly now, unaccustomed to the brightness, and squirmed a bit in his arms but then froze when her green eyes lit upon him.

"Ye are nae a dream," she surmised weakly.

"I am nae."

"Where... what happened?" Fiona's brows furrowed as she struggled to remember. "I was ill...."

"Aye, and fierce was the fever," Austin began softly, brushing hair from her face as he'd done many times by now. "Three days and nights, ye fought it bravely."

Fiona's gaze searched his face, then darted around the empty campsite. "But why are ye here? Where is Fraser—everyone?"

"Gone to Oathlaw," he answered. "I expect them anon."

"Nae," she challenged. "Fraser would nae have left me in yer care."

"He did," Austin said patiently. "I made him understand."

"Understand what?"

"Why I'm here," he replied, "and that I'm nae leaving."

Fiona's brow knitted and she squirmed in his arms. "I dinna believe ye. Release me. Release me this instant."

"Easy, love," he soothed her. "Gather yer strength so ye can debate this strongly and chastise me properly, as well ye should."

She went still. "Chastise ye?"

"For letting ye leave Wick, for telling ye lies." His nostrils flared and the back of his throat clogged as he admitted his greatest sin. "For causing ye pain."

"I...I was nae hurt," she replied, fierceness returned in small measure to her. "I was happy to have been shown reason."

"Aye," he grinned indulgently at her, neither surprised by her reluctance to believe him nor her resolve to remain aloof.

Austin's smile faltered as he heard a rustling in the distance, his senses suddenly on high alert. The tranquility of the moment shattered by the unexpected sound, he instinctively tensed, his heart quickening as his mind raced with thoughts of potential danger lurking in the woods. Fairly quickly, as he focused his gaze on the source of the disturbance, his apprehension dissolved into relief.

Through the dense foliage, he caught glimpses of vibrant red fabric, unmistakable even from a distance, the deep red of the Rose plaid.

"Here they come," he told Fiona.

As the figures drew nearer, the sound of hooves pounding against the forest floor grew louder, echoing through the tranquil surroundings. Austin shifted slightly, allowing Fiona to sit up in his arms as they both awaited the arrival of her comrades.

Austin's gaze swept over the group as they emerged from the shadows of the trees, led by Fraser, his rigid gaze softening when he spotted Fiona, awake and alert, and outside her tent. At the same time, Austin's brow furrowed, recognizing a familiar Merrick face among the Roses—somehow, Straun was here, huge in the same saddle as Sparrow, making her appear even more petite than she was.

They reined in across the fire, some thirty steeds coming to a stop at once.

"Ye had me worried," Fraser said to Fiona, his sharp gaze examining her face. "Ye dinna look well, but ye dinna look as bad as ye did."

"I am well, Fraser," she said. "Or on my way there."

When Fiona did not ask Fraser why he'd abandoned her to Austin's care as Austin suspected she would have, he frowned again at Straun and asked him to explain his presence. "How did this happen?"

"Ye dinna return," Straun answered, his hands huge on the reins in front of Sparrow. "And wat was I to do but find out why nae." A broad smile creased his face, revealing most of his teeth. He hitched his thumb at Fraser. "Kent this one did ye in, would nae have been surprised."

"He came upon us while we laid in wait," Fraser explained as he dismounted.

"Ye came on foot?" Austin asked. He knew that Straun had not, but as he was riding with Sparrow upon her dappled mare, Austin desired an explanation.

"Och, the blighter dumped me," Straun confessed, looking more amused than sheepish. He lifted a finger from the reins and pointed at Austin. "And dinna ken he'll nae hear about it when he catches up with me."

If the steed did, Austin supposed.

Straun and Sparrow alighted from the saddle as well and all the Roses then followed suit.

Fraser, Straun, Sparrow, and several others gathered round the fire, their anxious gazes mostly resting on Fiona.

"So what's this?" Straun asked in his inimitable way, lacking any finesse, inclining his head toward Austin and Fiona. "Looks fairly cozy—these our kin now?" He wondered, his gaze moving about to include all the Roses beyond him.

"?Tis the goal," Austin admitted, rather pleased by the opening. "I was about to explain to Fiona that I need her at my side, that I canna think straight if she's nae."

While Straun nodded, saying, "Aye, a guid start," Fiona stiffened once more in his arms and then fought to be free, trying to stand.

Austin allowed it, wanting the confrontation. He was concerned for her weakness though, and stood with her, supporting her until she thrust off the plaid and smacked at his hands.

"I dinna need a...protector, dinna need ye to fight—"

"I dinna want to fight for ye," he interjected mildly. "I want to fight with ye." He stared into her green eyes, brighter now, mesmerizing still. "I want to... do everything with ye."

"I dinna believe ye."

"Ah, but ye want to," he presumed, indifferent to their rapt audience.

When Fiona clamped her lips, refusing to say anything else, Austin turned to Fraser, who watched the exchange with a murderous scowl.

"Tell her," Austin instructed. "Tell her all the reasons it canna be, her and I."

Bewildered, but possibly unwilling to forfeit the opportunity to dissuade her, Fraser repeated almost everything Austin knew in his heart.

"Ye canna ignore the feud," he began. "?Twould be dishonor to all those who maintained it throughout the decades, those who lost their lives for it." His gaze hardened as he continued, his words cutting through the air with the sharpness of a blade. "Ye ken he's a wastrel, a glib one, reckless and brash. Too shallow to ken love is my guess, so what's he after? It dinna matter." He paused and then reminded Fiona, "We've our own path to follow, lass, including recovering Dunraig. ?Tis our duty to reclaim what is rightfully ours." He paused, allowing that to sink in before he added, "He dinna get to pick his path—his sire does. Even if he were in love with ye, I'll nae believe for one minute that Dougal Merrick will allow his son to take up with a Rose." Lifting a finger, he further pointed out, "Just like us, he and his army serve Robert Bruce and are likely to be sent far away—another siege, a battle, or some mission in the king's name. Ye'd be left alone, with naught but broken promises."

Fiona's eyes flashed with confusion and what Austin supposed was a bit of fury. Whether this was directed at Austin, for the truth behind some of Fraser's accusations, or at Fraser himself, for reminding her of Austin's faults, he wasn't sure. Her gaze darted between the two men. She opened her mouth to speak but said nothing, the weight of Fraser's argument pressing down on her. Her brows furrowed, and her fingers twitched, betraying her inner turmoil.

Austin was prepared to expel the silence. Surely he stunned Fraser by nodding at him, grinning wickedly. "Verra well, Fraser. Much appreciation for so thoughtful and thorough a list." And then Austin smiled tenderly at Fiona. "And I've come to say that none of it matters—certainly nae the falsehoods told."

Fiona's eyes widened slightly, the confusion in her gaze slowly giving way to something softer, more vulnerable. She looked at Austin, and he could see the struggle in her expression, the flicker of hope that she staunchly tried to resist.

"Bluidy hell," Fraser seethed behind him, for how he'd been used, likely believing he'd been made to look a fool.

"Aye, I am brash. Aye, I can be arrogant and condescending, but ye ken that already," Austin admitted, his gaze unwavering. "Fraser's a better man than I in many ways, but he dinna ken what's in my heart." He took a step closer to Fiona, his voice firm with conviction. "Ye and I will end the feud. We've both suffered from it, and our clans have bled for it long enough." Austin's voice softened, yet his resolve was clear. "Ye and I will reclaim Dunraig. My army and yer army will be our army. As for service to Robert Bruce and the war, we'll face whatever comes, side by side. Nae distance or duty will keep us apart." He reached out to gently take her hand, which she allowed. "Ye and I are stronger together, Fiona. We dinna need to walk alone."

Fiona's lips parted, her green eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The war within her was visible for all to see, the inner clash of duty and desire, fear and hope.

He squeezed her hand, and her grip tightened as well, as if seeking assurance.

"I'd nae have come but for love," he told her, "and ye ken that."

He knew the moment she believed him. Her shoulders slowly sank with relief, and a tremulous smile appeared, hope rising above her doubts.

Smiling with pure joy, Austin closed the small distance between them and pulled Fiona gently into his arms. He closed his eyes and reveled in the feel of her pressed against him, in her familiar scent and touch. Her slender arms wrapped around his back, clutching him with a strength that challenged her recent illness.

"Shite," Straun's cheerful voice pierced their embrace. "I ken I'm in love with him now as well."

"Aye, ?twas verra compelling," Sparrow agreed.

AS THE NIGHT SETTLED around them, the small tent felt like a sanctuary, cocooned in the grip of darkness as softly as Fiona was held in Austin's arms.

Despite Austin having insisted she nap earlier, she was lethargic yet and imagined she would be for another day or two.

Earlier, with animated assistance from Straun, Fraser had relayed what had happened in Oathlaw. The train of wayns was not so large as they'd been led to believe, which was unfortunate as that meant fewer supplies to be assumed by the patriots but was fortunate in that it made overtaking it so much easier. Tomorrow, they would return to Wick and rejoin Austin's army. A contingent of both Rose and Merrick soldiers would eventually march the pilfered goods down to King Robert's last known location. If he were gone already, relocated, the goods would be housed and wait for him at Kirkconnel, a centralized location, easily accessible to the king amidst protected patriot lands.

Presently, leaves whispered softly in the night breeze, accompanied by the occasional distant call of an owl. The larger fire outside crackled gently, painting playful shadows that danced across the canvas walls.

Fiona gazed at Austin, his features softened by the flickering light, a serene expression on his face as he looked at her. She felt a swell of joy in her heart, a happiness she hadn't ever expected to know.

She shifted closer to him, laying her hand against his chest beneath the blanket that covered them. He laid his hand over hers, intertwining their fingers. She searched his gaze, finding sincere evidence of the love he'd proclaimed.

She'd yet to tell him of her own.

After she'd succumbed to his eloquent persuasion this afternoon, and when she'd parted then from his embrace, Fraser had, with paternal authority, demanded that they wed.

"Ye'll nae be only playing at this," he'd said, his voice imperious. "Commit wholly or nae at all."

Austin hadn't hesitated at all. "Aye, we'll wed."

"It dinna feel right...or fair," she said now, "to ken joy."

"We've as much right as any other," Austin said quietly.

"But yer sire, Austin?" She inquired. "Did Fraser speak true?"

"Honestly, love, I dinna ken how he'll receive the news. All my life, he's been verra vocal, advocating the feud. And yet, he's nae the man he was, nae even half a decade ago. When my brothers died, so too did his resolve, the hard edge he carried. Now, he's more a shell of his former self, stubborn but softer in spirit."

"But if he should refuse to grant ye—"

"He will nae have the opportunity, love. Who kens when I'll—we'll—get back there, to Balenmore. We'll be long wed by then, I imagine."

He kissed her forehead and held her close.

After a moment, he sighed, with what she assumed was contentment. And then he chuckled softly.

Fiona tipped her face up to him.

"I was recalling the first time I laid eyes on ye," he said. "Jesu, was I spellbound. I ken then what remains true: I've never been more instantly beguiled in all my life." He peered down at her. "But tell me ye dinna hold it against me, what—or who—I originally believed ye to be."

Fiona grinned and laid her head against his arm. "It was a rather sorry beginning."

"And yet ye love me," he said.

Her smile broadened, thrilled by the very idea even as she questioned, "Have I said as much?"

"Nae, love," he said with feigned disgruntlement, "and that's what I'm aiming to provoke. Dinna make me drag it out of ye."

She patted his chest. "Ye canna do that. I'm weak and vulnerable."

"Ye are nae such thing, nae ever."

A short moment of silence followed before Fiona spoke again.

"It feels different than I expected," she mused. "Or rather I was, admittedly, quite taken with the way ye made me feel. But...there's more to it and parting from ye and yer words today clarified it for me." And yet, she wasn't sure how to put it into words. She shrugged helplessly and spoke from the heart, things she dreamed of having with him. "I want yer arm around me as I grow old. I want to go through life with yer hand in mine. I want bairns and a home and forever. I want to hear yer voice, first in the morning and last at night, every day. ?Tis true, I had but one dream growing up, for my father to shine his light on me." She scoffed softly. "How simple I was, how desperate. This now, is different. I dinna need ye to survive. But I want to survive with ye, thrive with ye. I want to make ye smile and be warmed by yer smile, to kiss ye and be kissed by ye. "

Without warning, Austin shifted, positioning Fiona on her back as he loomed over her, his gaze sweeping hungrily over her face. In his eyes, she discerned astonishment, tenderness, and a vulnerability that mirrored her own. She brushed strands of his chestnut hair behind his ear.

"I choose to love ye, Austin," she declared softly, "with all that I am and all that I have. It's a decision I've made, and I'll keep making it, every hour of every day, for the rest of my life."

"Jesu," he murmured, a sea of emotion in that one word. "But ye make it easy to love ye," he breathed before he kissed her.

The End