Highland Devil (Murray Family #22)(26)

Chapter Twelve


Gybbon stepped into Mora's bedchamber and watched Annys bathe her face  with cool water. "Annys, go to bed," he said quietly as he walked up to  her. "Your husband wants company."

"He just wants someone to complain to," she said, but stood up and dried  her hands. "She is a bit cooler now, and I had a good look at her  healing wound thinking I may have missed something. There was no sign of  infection, but I wouldnae expect any since it was Jolene who took care  of it." She shook her head. "So, I have nary an answer for why this  fever came on."

"It may be as simple as the journey she took to get here."

"Aye. Mayhap it was too much too soon as I heard she spent the whole time stuck in the back of that cart and covered over."

"Needed to keep her out of sight for her murderous cousin was following us."

"Aye. She did too much too soon, that is all. Just because someone feels  better or their fever fades doesnae mean they are truly ready and hale  enough to make a journey, especially nay one where they must sit and  hide in a cart. Do ye ken, it could even be just the constant worry and  fear she must have been feeling for a long time now. I ken I had a lot  of it when I was dealing with Adam and the possibility that he would win  the battle for my home. It hasnae been so verra long since she had to  bury her parents. She also must believe her brothers are dead as weel.  Then there is a mad cousin doing all he can to kill her and her last  surviving brother. A body can only take so many blows."

He nodded but said nothing for he was still uneasy, but her words had  worked to calm him a little. "How did Harcourt hurt his foot?"

Annys stopped just as she reached the door and looked back at him, smiling faintly. "Didnae he tell you?"

"Nay." He could see her lips trembling as she fought what he suspected  was hearty laughter. "Since there were so many of us round the table and  everyone was talking, I let him mutter something about how he shouldnae  have been on the stable roof anyway."

"He was on the cursed roof because Roban was up there and Benet was  afraid he would fall. A few little tears and Papa is getting up on the  roof."

"It is a cat and has more weight and more everything than even this  one," he said, and pointed at Freya, who was curled up at Mora's side.  "Animal could probably have nimbly leapt to safety all by itself. What  harm could come to it?"

"Verra little I suspect, but Benet was scared. And, aye, the cat took  care of itself once Harcourt got up there. Made a beautiful leap from  the stable roof to the bathhouse roof and then to the ground.  Unfortunately, Harcourt lunged after the cat and lost his footing. He  was nay so graceful as he flailed around trying to grab anything that  might stop or slow his fall. I had to get Benet to go away because the  boy was so pleased with his cat he was boasting of how it had jumped,  then wondering why his papa couldnae do that." She grinned when Gybbon  laughed. "Harcourt is verra lucky he didnae break more than his foot."

"It is broken then, is it?"

"I think it might be, so I have treated it as a broken limb, but it was definitely twisted and badly wrenched."         

     



 

"Go on," he said, laughing softly. "Big bairn was whining about a lonely bed."

Annys giggled and hurried out the door. The image of his older brother  climbing up something to get a cat because Benet shed a few tears was  amusing. But he could understand why Harcourt did it. Looking down at  Mora, Gybbon had to admit that he would probably do something similar if  her cat looked to be in danger, but at least he would have the excuse  that the cat was a runt that needed such protection.

He stroked Mora's forehead, finding it only faintly warm. Then he  noticed that the red in her cheeks was gone. This time if she roused  free of the fever, she would be sternly instructed to go very carefully  until she had been free of it for at least a fortnight. Or longer, he  decided. He wet the cloth and gently bathed her face, hoping she could  throw off this fever as easily as she had the other one.

"Is she going to be all right?"

Gybbon started in surprise at the small voice speaking up beside him. He  looked down at Andrew and wondered how he had missed the sound of the  boy entering the room. The child looked terrified and Gybbon could  understand. Mora was all the boy had left of what had sounded like a  very decent family.

"I believe so. She has already lost most of the burn of the fever."

"Then why did she get it again?"

"Lady Murray thinks that your sister just had too much sadness, and then  there was all the trouble caused by Robert, a wound, worry, and even  fear, and it proved to just be too much."

"Mora is little but she is strong. My da said so." He sat down on the  edge of the bed and leaned over to lightly hug his sister. "She e'en  beat him at chess once and Maman said she was stunned for few grown men  could do that."

"She is good at the game."

Andrew stood up and tilted his head to the side as he asked, "Are ye staying here with her?"

"Weel, I think someone should, aye?"

"Aye, someone should. Good night, Sir Gybbon."

"Good night, lad. Just where are ye sleeping?"

"With Benet and Joan's lads at the end of the hall, so I willnae be verra far away if ye need to call me."

"I will remember that. Sleep weel."

He let the boy out and watched him run down to Benet's door. To his  surprise Benet and Joan's two boys poked their heads out the door,  grabbed hold of Andrew, and tugged him into the room. Gybbon hoped the  boys suited each other well. Andrew could find himself with more  brothers even if they were not blood connected. Bonds formed at their  age could last a lifetime. Young as they were, all three could  understand the fear, sorrow, and anger Andrew had bubbling inside him.

Stepping back into the bedroom and shutting the door, Gybbon returned to  Mora's bedside. He reached down to brush her hair back and froze. She  was shivering, shivering hard, like some poor, naked beggar caught out  in the snow. Despite telling himself it did not mean anything truly bad,  he felt the touch of panic.

When Annys tended someone, he remembered that she always left a bell for  the one who would sit with the sick person, one they could ring and  Annys would come. He told himself to let the poor woman sleep, but then  Mora hissed out the words "so cold" between tightly clenched teeth.  Going to the door, he found the bell. He could still hear Mora mumbling  behind him as he stepped out into the hall and rang the bell, before  hurrying back to her side.

In just a few minutes Annys rushed in and hurried over to the bed.  Deciding he would not mention that her voluminous night shift was on  inside out and backward, Gybbon had to fight a grin. She looked at Mora,  then dashed over to the chest set near the fire, opened it, and pulled  out another blanket. He took it from her and spread it over a still  shivering Mora. They did that twice more in the next hour, but Mora  continued to shiver slightly.

"I have ne'er understood why this happens, but it often does," said  Annys. "I have ne'er had anyone appear to have suffered badly from it  though. Dinnae look. I am just going to take another quick peek at her  wound."

Gybbon just shook his head. As soon as she had Mora's night shift tugged  up, he glanced at the wound himself. It looked healthy to him, still  sealed and no hint of the poison that could too easily grow in such  injuries, making even the smallest one become deadly. It was just an  ugly reminder of how someone wished her dead and did not belong on such  smooth, pale skin.

Annys stood up, put the night shift back in place, and pulled up the  covers. "Just keep her warm and, if anything else changes, ring the  bell."

Gybbon looked at the door Annys had shut and decided it would have to be  a big change and a worrisome one before he rang that bell again or he  would never hear the end of it from Harcourt. He stood by the bed and  wondered what he should do. The blankets had not solved the problem.  Then he recalled what he had done from time to time when a boy forced to  sleep in a cold room with other boys.         

     



 

Smiling, he started to shed his clothes. When he was naked, he crawled  under the covers, tugged her into his arms, and waited until her  shivering stopped. Not long after, he decided that as soon as he could  he would pull down a few of the blankets as it was too hot for him.

He lightly rubbed her back and she snuggled closer, putting her arms  around him and laying her cheek against his chest. He could grow to like  this, he thought, and smiled. Her night shift hid little of her shape  when he held her so close. Curious if her skin felt as soft as it  looked, he slipped his hand just under the hem and stroked her leg. Then  he pulled his hand away with reluctance, knowing it was a grave  trespass and not wishing to get caught and then have to try and explain  what he had been doing. He had proven his suspicion. Her skin was as  soft and smooth as it looked.