Chapter 14

The low murmur of voices caught her ear, and Annella blinked her eyes open to see Graeme entering with a wooden bowl in one

hand and a trencher in the other. Behind him, a soldier leaned in, nodded at her and then pulled the door closed as Graeme

carried his treasures to the bedside table and set them down.

The moment that was accomplished, he turned to peer at Annella and then dropped to sit in the chair her mother had been occupying

moments ago. He took her hand in his.

Annella stared at their entwined fingers, only to blink in surprise when she realized the linen wrappings were gone. Her hands

and fingers were naked and nearly back to normal. The burnt and blistered skin must have healed while she lay unconscious

in the bed, Annella realized. How had she not noticed that while her mother was here?

"How are ye feelin'?"

Annella glanced up at her husband, surprised to see the concern that had been heavy in his voice also reflected on his face. She frowned slightly as she took in the dark shadows under his eyes and the exhaustion still hanging over him. "Me mother told me ye had no slept since the clearing until she convinced ye to lay down after the sup tonight?"

"No' much," he admitted with a crooked smile that quickly faded. His expression was incredibly solemn when he said, "Ye were

verra ill, wife. Payton and I mostly sat about watchin' o'er ye, dribblin' broth down yer throat, placin' cold cloths on yer

forehead and prayin' fer yer fever to break. I e'en had to carry ye down through the passages to the river a time or two fer

a cold dunkin' when yer fever was burnin' ye up and we feared it boilin' yer brain."

For some reason this news made her eyes tear up. Annella had no idea why. While it was sweet that her brother and husband

had worked so hard to see her well, it was hardly something to weep over. But she'd been a healer for a long time and had

witnessed others having exaggerated emotional responses in such situations, so didn't fret over it too much. Fortunately,

her husband didn't appear to notice her weepy state and continued.

"Payton only left when yer parents arrived. Yer mother and father came up to see ye the minute they learned ye'd been injured. They sat with us fer a bit, and then yer father insisted Payton go below with him to give an account o' what has happened since he left MacKay. Yer mother took his seat when he left, and then she and I continued to watch o'er ye until the fever broke just ere the sup tonight. Yer mother said while ye were on the mend, ye'd sleep fer a while yet, and insisted I should go below and eat somethin', then bathe and get some sleep so I could be awake, rested and no' stink when ye woke."

Annella smiled faintly, but asked, "Did ye sleep?" because, honestly, he didn't look like he had.

"Aye." When her expression revealed her doubt about the veracity of his words, he admitted, "It took a while fer me to fall

asleep, but I did rest fer a bit."

Annella squeezed his fingers sympathetically. Despite having slept for six days and not having been awake for long, she was

growing weary again. But the murmur of voices from the hall had her glancing toward the door.

"'Tis most like fresh men replacing the soldiers in the hall," Graeme said reassuringly.

Annella swung her gaze back to him and asked, "Why are there guards on our door? I thought—Is yer mother no—?"

"She's dead," Graeme said baldly.

Annella relaxed a bit, relieved to know she hadn't been wrong. She distinctly recalled Eschina lying in the clearing, the

knife through her neck. She did peer at him with concern though, wondering how he was taking it. As awful as the woman had

been at the task, Eschina had been his mother. She had also planned to kill him. Annella supposed that would be enough to leave him feeling conflicted.

Hoping to take his mind off of whatever emotion the woman's death caused in him, she asked, "And her maid? Agnes?"

"Gone," he said, anger thick in his voice. "I should ha'e sent men out to fetch her back to the castle the moment I returned with ye, but we were all busy tending to yer wound. By the time I thought to send soldiers to Mother's cottage, Agnes had fled. No doubt she heard ye'd returned with an arrow through the chest but we were both alive, and then when Dauid followed with Mother's body, the news o' that too would ha'e spread fast. She would ha'e kenned she might be in peril too if Mother had talked ere dying. She probably thought it prudent to leave rather than wait around to find out."

"No doubt," Annella agreed, and then shook her head. "A woman on her own... she'll no' survive long on the run."

"Nay, she will no'," Graeme agreed solemnly. "Still, I sent a couple soldiers out to track her. If she's dead when they find

her, at least her family will ken."

"And if she is alive?" Annella asked with curiosity.

"She tried to murder her laird and lady," Graeme said solemnly. "She would be taken to the king's court to be judged and punished."

Annella nodded solemnly, but thought the woman would be luckier to be killed while on the run. At least that would most like

be done quickly. Being caught and dragged to court for judgment and punishment would be a long drawn-out hell with a grim

ending. The king was not known to be lenient to murderers, especially commoners trying to kill nobles.

"Do ye want more to drink?"

Annella considered it briefly, but while she was thirsty still, she'd rather wait a little longer to be sure her stomach did

not cast out the liquid she'd already taken in, so she shook her head.

"I'd rather rest a bit," Annella confessed, unsurprised that she was weary already. It would take time for her to build her strength back up. Her gaze slid over her husband, and she frowned and added, "You should too. Ye need yer rest or ye'll fall sick yerself."

Graeme hesitated, his gaze sliding away to a spot on the floor, and then said, "I would no' want to unintentionally jostle

ye and cause yer wound to pain ye. I've a pallet next to the bed. I'll sleep there."

"I'd rather ye join me," Annella said quietly. She didn't have to ask twice. This time, Graeme didn't hesitate, but stood

and walked around the bed. He removed his plaid, but left his shirt on, then lifted the blanket and climbed into bed next

to her. But he left a good foot of space between them despite the fact that he was on her uninjured side... which was an

oddity for her. Graeme had always taken the side closest to the door prior to this, leaving Annella to sleep on the side he

was presently on. Annella supposed her spot in the bed now was because he'd carried her straight in and set her on the closest

side for them to work on.

Whatever the case, she was grateful for the switch because it allowed her to roll on her uninjured left side and curl up against

him. Graeme stiffened at first, but then shifted his arm so that she could nestle her head on his chest. Once she was comfortable,

he let his arm rest curled around her so that his hand was on her hip, as far from her shoulder as he could place it without

detaching his arm from his body.

Annella closed her eyes then and tried to sleep, but her mind was on Agnes and what would become of the old maid, so that it was a while before sleep finally came to claim her. Her breathing had deepened and she was just dozing off when she heard Graeme whisper, "Thank ye, God, fer no' takin' her from me."

For some reason his words made her want to cry again, but sleep claimed her before the feeling could bring on tears.

The sun was shining in through the window when Annella next awoke. Graeme was still abed with her, which was unusual. He was

generally up and out of the castle by the time she woke and went down to break her fast. But that wasn't the case this morning.

He was still on his back next to her and she was still cuddled up with her head on his chest. It seemed neither of them had

moved while they'd slept. Annella could only think exhaustion was the reason behind that.

"Are ye hungry, love?"

Annella stilled briefly in surprise as she realized her husband was awake, and then eased away to lie on her back next to

him so that he could move if he wished. "How long have ye been awake?"

"No' long," he answered easily and rolled onto his side, then shifted up onto his elbow so that he could see her face. "How

are ye feelin' this day? Does yer shoulder hurt?"

Annella smiled faintly. "No' much at all. Which probably should no' surprise me since I've had the wound a week now."

"Aye. Ye slept through the worst o' the pain o' healin'," he agreed, and then commented, "Ye must be thirsty and hungry."

"Aye," Annella admitted, which rather surprised her. While her thirst was to be expected, the hunger gnawing at her stomach wasn't. She hadn't been the least bit hungry last night, but perhaps the small amount of liquid she'd had before falling asleep had worked through her system, waking up her wants.

Graeme got out of bed and stripped off the shirt he'd slept in as he crossed the room to begin searching one of his chests

for a fresh one. Annella found her eyes sliding over him with interest, taking in the way his muscles shifted under his skin

as he moved. This was the first time she'd got to have such a long look at him; usually when he was naked, she was too and

they were doing things that didn't allow for long inspections of his body.

Her husband was strong, wide and muscular in form with scars to tell of his years of working as a warrior. None of them detracted

from the fact that he had a beautiful body.

Realizing she was licking her lips with an interest she probably didn't have the strength to satisfy at the moment, Annella

forced her gaze away and then managed to sit up. It took a little more effort than she would have expected and left her breathing

heavily, but she managed it. Irritated by a weakness she wasn't used to, she determinedly pushed the linens and furs off herself

and shifted to sit with her feet on the floor, then paused to catch her breath and rest a moment before trying to rise.

"Oy!" That barked exclamation had her glancing wide-eyed to Graeme as he strode toward her, a shirt in hand. "What are ye

doin'?"

"I thought to go below to break me fast," she explained, her gaze dropping to his swinging member as he crossed to stand in front of her. This was definitely the first time she'd got a look at that part of him, and she couldn't seem to stop staring at it. It wasn't the first time Annella had seen a man's cock. She was a healer after all. She'd examined probably a dozen over the years for the clap or other ailments, and had even had to stitch up two others. One from an injury gained at practice, and another given to an unfaithful husband by his less than pleased wife when she caught him with another woman. The husband had nearly lost his manhood that day, and while Annella had done her best to sew him back together, she knew it wasn't working as well as it had ere the incident.

"Love, ye ha'e to stop lookin' at me like that," Graeme said, his voice a little husky. "Ye're in no shape fer the things

yer puttin' in me head with the way ye're starin' at me cock and lickin' yer luscious lips."

Annella froze, tongue still out and halfway across her upper lip, then pulled it quickly back into her mouth. She couldn't

stop staring, however, because Graeme's member had started to grow and harden. It was much more impressive that way, and grew

more so by the second as she watched it stretch and stand up.

Cursing, Graeme whirled away and crossed back to the chest, tugging his shirt on as he went. Sadly, it was one of his longer

shirts and dropped below his bottom by several inches, hiding that from view too. He did have a nice rounded bottom, but she'd

known that from grabbing and holding on to it on more than one occasion as he'd tupped her.

"Ye're no' goin' below, so get that out o' yer head," Graeme said firmly as he set to the task of donning his plaid. "I'll send one o' the guards to arrange fer water to be heated and a bath brought up. He can fetch back food and drink fer us to break our fast with too."

"Ye'll eat up here, with me?" Annella asked, surprised. He hadn't once broken his fast with her since arriving. In fact, she

rarely even saw him during the day. Although that was partially her own fault. She knew he did sometimes take the nooning

meal in the keep each day; it just happened that it had always occurred when she was off tending someone who was ill, or tending

to one of the tasks that took her down to the village, such as market day.

"Aye. I'll break me fast with ye. But then I must go see what's occurred while I was up here with ye this past week. Let us

hope the place has no' gone to hell while we were both indisposed." Finished donning his plaid, he turned and walked back

with a wry smile, then bent to kiss her forehead, before scooping her into his arms to turn and lay her on the bed again.

"Stay," he ordered as he covered her again. Graeme then walked to the door and opened it to speak to the men outside.

Annella took that opportunity to give herself a quick sniff and grimaced when she did. A week of fever and no bathing had

left her a little more than odiferous. Honestly, she wasn't sure how he'd managed to sleep in the same bed as her, which made

her think—

"Have them tell Florie that the bed will need stripping and new linens put on," she called out.

Graeme glanced back to give her a nod and then finished giving his orders.

"I can at least sit at the table by the fire to break me fast," Annella said as he started back toward the bed.

Graeme glanced toward the small table by the fire and the two chairs at it and then nodded. Tossing aside the linen and furs

he'd just covered her with, he scooped her into his arms and headed for the table with her.

"'Tis all right to hold yer breath do ye wish," she whispered. "I'll no' be offended. I ken I smell poorly."

"Aye, ye do," he agreed with amusement. "And I've ne'er seen yer hair so limp and greasy."

Annella was flushing with embarrassment when Graeme added, "Yet ye've never smelled as good, or looked so lovely to me as

ye do now ye're awake and I ken ye'll live."

Eyes widening, she glanced to him sharply, but they'd reached the table and he quickly set her in one of the chairs and then

walked back to grab up one of the furs from the bed. Graeme brought it back and tucked it around her lap solicitously.

"Rest a bit while we wait," he ordered before returning to the bed and stripping away the rest of the furs. He folded and

set those on one of the chests, then removed the bed linens from the bed in swift, economical motions. Graeme had barely rolled

the linens up and dropped them on top of another chest when a knock sounded at the door.

The moment he opened it, a passel of maids filed in carting the tub, food and fresh linens.

"We were told last night that yer fever had broken and ye'd most like wake by mornin', so Millie started water heating fer ye at the crack o' dawn so ye can bathe," Florie announced, looking her over with eyes filled with a combination of relief and happiness as she set down the tray of food she'd carried in and began to pour her what appeared to be watered-down cider. "It should be along soon."

"Thank ye," Annella murmured, accepting the mug she handed her. Despite Eschina being behind the poison attempt, and being

dead, she still took a cautious sniff of the cider, smelling for any trace of a scent that didn't belong.

"There are still guards on the buttery. A fresh cask o' cider was brought up and opened, and one o' the guards walked us up

to be sure no one fiddled with ye or the laird's drinks," Florie told her reassuringly.

Annella smiled at her, and then sipped from her mug, sighing as the cool liquid satisfied her immediate thirst.

"Cook also made fresh pasties fer ye if ye think yer stomach can manage it. She, like the rest o' us, was e'er so happy to

hear ye were finally recovering," she added softly, pausing to squeeze Annella's shoulder gently before continuing. "But she

sent bread and cheese in case ye were no' up to pasties yet, and a bowl o' broth in case ye were no' sure ye could manage

that," Florie announced as she began setting the food out.

"Ye must thank her fer me," Annella murmured before taking another drink of the cider.

"I'll ha'e one o' the other maids pass along yer thanks," Florie assured her. "I'm remakin' the bed while ye eat and then

will help ye with yer bath."

Annella nodded and thanked her, then smiled at Graeme as he settled in the seat across from her.

"Are those pasties?" Graeme asked with interest as he surveyed the feast set out for them.

"Aye. I'm no' sure what kind though," Annella admitted. Normally, pasties were filled with a seasoned meat and vegetables.

But old Angus back at MacKay had also made sweeter pasties filled with fruit. Millie, the cook here at Gunn, had started making

those as well after Annella had told her about it. Both were tasty and popular with the people of Gunn, and Florie hadn't

mentioned what kind these ones were.

"Beef and veg," Graeme announced with satisfaction as he broke one in half. "No doubt she thought that'd be better to build

yer strength, and easier on yer stomach than fruit just yet."

"Aye," Annella agreed, but shook her head when he offered her half. She hadn't eaten in a week other than dribs and drabs

of broth and any other liquids they had managed to get down her while she was unconscious. As much as she would have liked

the delicious-smelling pasties, she felt it was better to at least start with broth. If that went down well, she might try

a bite or two of one of the pasties after that to finish off.

Graeme hesitated at her refusal, and then set the half he'd offered her next to the wooden bowl of broth Florie had set before

her. "Ye should at least attempt to ha'e a bite or two, love. 'Twill help ye gain yer strength back more quickly."

"Aye," Annella agreed, a smile curving her lips. He'd called her love. It wasn't the first time. She was sure he'd called her that a time or two already since she'd woken the night before, and she did remember him calling her that in the clearing after she'd been wounded as well. It was nice. It made her feel all warm and squishy inside.

Telling herself that she was being silly, and that calling her that didn't mean he felt the emotion behind the word, she turned

her attention to the broth, pleased to find that it was very nice and full of flavor. Millie had obviously cooked it down

so that the flavor was more concentrated for her. An effort to help build up her strength, she knew. She also knew no one

else would be enjoying the broth. The cook had probably made a small batch for her alone.

Annella's stomach felt full when she finished the broth, but not uncomfortably so. Not feeling there was any danger of it

coming back up, she eyed the half pasty lying next to her bowl and then gave in and picked it up. She could manage a bite

or two and it would help with her recovery.

"Mmmm," she moaned as the flavor exploded on her tongue with the first bite.

"Aye. Good, eh?" Graeme said with amusement, watching her face as she enjoyed the pasty.

"Mmm-hmm," Annella murmured as she chewed and swallowed the bit of delicious pasty. Had she thought Millie's pasties weren't

quite as good as old Angus's at MacKay? Impossible, she decided as she took a second bite. That or Millie had somehow improved

her pasties since the last time she'd made them.

A knock at the door caught her ear, and Annella glanced around to see Florie toss the last fur on the freshly made bed before she rushed to answer it. Another parade of maids entered with buckets of steaming water in hand this time, and Florie oversaw the bath, testing for temperature as each pail of water was poured in, deciding when enough water had been added. Her lady's maid then saw the other women out and closed the door.

Annella half expected the maid to harass her into getting into the bath at once, so was surprised when she instead went to

sort through one of Annella's chests. Choosing what she should wear after, she supposed.

"All done?" Graeme asked when Annella reluctantly offered him the rest of her half pasty after managing three bites.

"Aye. I would no' make meself sick, so 'tis better to stop."

"Aye," Graeme agreed solemnly, popped the remains of her pasty into his mouth and quickly chewed and swallowed as she chuckled

at him. He grinned in response, swallowed down a bit of cider, then stood and scooped her out of her chair.

"I can walk," she protested when he carried her to the tub.

"Love, ye were pantin' and swayin' like a reed in the wind after just sitting up in bed. I'd no' trust ye to walk anywhere,"

he announced. Setting her on her feet next to the steaming tub, he held her steady with a hand on her arm, and then tipped

her face up with a finger under her chin and ordered solemnly, "Florie is to call me when ye're done with yer bath and I'll

return to lift ye out and set ye on the bed again. Understood?"

When she nodded, his stern expression softened and he kissed her.

Annella kissed him back, sighing into his mouth when he deepened it and thrust his tongue past her lips. She did love his

kisses, and felt her toes curl at the effect he had on her. When his hands moved over her, she moaned and then gasped as he

broke their kiss to tug her gown up and off, forcing her arms up over her head to manage the task.

"Husband," she protested breathlessly as she leaned into him. "Florie is here."

"Aye. Well, she has to be to help ye with yer bath, does she no'?" he asked with amusement.

Graeme was scooping her up again even as he spoke. A moment later she found herself set into the warm water.

"Too hot?" he asked when she gasped as he set her to sit in the steaming liquid.

"Nay. 'Tis good. I like it warm," she assured him a little breathlessly. It always felt just that touch too warm at first,

but she quickly adjusted.

"Good," Graeme murmured, sounding a tad distracted.

Pulling back slightly, Annella saw that his gaze had caught on her breasts. The hunger of his expression made her suddenly

feel beautiful and powerful. Without even thinking about it, she arched her back slightly, thrusting her breasts forward and

up a bit, then ran one hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck and slid her fingers into his hair, scraping her nails

over his scalp in a way that she'd noticed he seemed to like.

He responded as she'd hoped, claiming her mouth and kissing her almost roughly as his knuckles brushed over one taut nipple. But he broke the kiss just as quickly and straightened to stride away across the room.

"Call me when ye're ready fer me to remove her from the bath, Florie," he ordered gruffly.

"Aye, m'laird," the maid murmured as the door closed behind him. Florie then turned a grin her way as she crossed to the tub,

and teased, "Fer a minute there, I thought he'd be joinin' ye in the tub and I should just slip out o' the room fer a bit."

Annella grinned in return, despite the heat rising to flush her face. "I would no' have complained."

"I could tell," Florie assured her with a laugh that died suddenly as her gaze shifted to Annella's covered wound. The arrow

had entered in her upper right chest, just below her shoulder and gone out her back at around the same spot. All of which

meant that a lot of linen wrappings had been needed to cover the entrance and exit both. Concern claiming her features, she

asked, "Do we need to change yer wrappings, and add salve or anything?"

She peered down at the linen covering and shook her head. "Nay. It looks like Mother must have changed them recently. I'll

check with her first."

Florie nodded, and then clucked her tongue. "Oh, Lord, that must ha'e hurt like the devil, m'lady. No wonder ye were screamin'

as ye were."

Annella glanced at her with alarm. "Was I loud?"

"They could hear ye from the bailey and the cottages. Some e'en claimed they heard ye in the village, though I'm thinkin' that's a bit o' exaggeration."

The maid shifted to peer at Annella's back as well, and she sighed. "Aye. They said the arrow had to be pushed through, but

I did no' believe it. That seemed a stupid move to me. Why would they cause ye more pain and damage like that?"

"It had gone most o' the way through already. At that point, pulling the arrow back out the way it went in can cause more

damage if ye accidentally turn it even the least little bit. Ye could nick a vein missed on the way in during the effort,"

Annella murmured, glancing at the linen wrapping covering the wound and wondering what it looked like. She doubted it was

too bad. At least it shouldn't be huge, just the width of the arrow. She supposed she'd see soon enough.

"Well, we'd best get to bathing ye ere the water cools," Florie said with feigned good cheer, and then frowned and asked,

"Do I need take care no' to get yer bandages wet?"

Annella hesitated, considering her wound, and then sighed unhappily. She knew she was about to make this bath harder. "Aye.

We should probably no' get it wet yet."

Florie nodded slowly and then straightened her shoulders determinedly. "Verra well, we can manage it. I'll just call up one

o' the young maids to help us."

Annella didn't protest. She knew they would need the assistance if she wished her hair washed, and she did. It was lank and nasty, definitely in need of washing after a week of fevers. While she could hold a folded piece of linen over the bandage on the front to prevent it getting wet, she couldn't do anything about the one on her back while water was poured over her hair and splashed about. Assistance would be useful.

Sighing, she leaned back in the tub to wait while Florie slipped from the room.