My Brave Highlander(78)

His body quaked with another severe bout of shivers. Hopefully he was gradually warming, for he had not even been shivering when he'd first arrived at the castle.

"Oh, Lady Isobel! What are you doing?" Jessie asked in a surprised whisper.

Isobel glanced toward her, just inside the door, hands covering her eyes. "I'm getting him warm with my own body heat. If I hadn't, he might have died."

"Oh." Jessie uncovered her eyes and rushed forward. "How is he?"

"Gradually warming, I think."

The healer returned, approaching the bed with wide eyes and a faint smile. "Let's see if he'll wake enough to drink some whisky."

"I think he already had some," Isobel said.

"I'll steep some herbal tea then." After shuffling to the fireplace, she sprinkled some leaves in a wooden cup and poured hot water on it.

"I'll guard the door, Isobel, lest word get out you're in bed with my brother." Jessie headed toward the door, but before she could reach it, Rebbie entered.

"How is he?" His brows shot up. "Having much more fun than I am, I see."

Burning heat rushed over Isobel. "Don't be silly, Laird Rebbinglen! I'm warming him with my body heat."

"Lucky bastard," he muttered.

Jessie proceeded into the corridor and pulled the door closed behind her.

"'Tis not a jest. He could've died."

"Hmph. Wish I'd almost died instead."

"Go to hell, Rebbie," Dirk mumbled.

Isobel drew in a sharp breath, but was glad he acted more alert.

Rebbie chuckled. "You see, he's perfectly lucid. Rugged as the Highlands, that one."

That's when she noticed something hard prodding her leg as she lay on top of Dirk. Oh heavens, was that…? Was he aroused? Staying beneath the covers, she rolled off Dirk and laid her hand along the side of his chilled face. "Are you feeling better?"

"Aye."

"I wager he feels better than… better," Rebbie muttered. "Do you not?"

"Aye," Dirk said in a monotone that revealed nothing, his eyes still closed.

"Could I have a moment of privacy, if you please?" Isobel asked.

"Of course." Rebbie bowed and backed toward the corridor.

"Nay, you cannot go in there, Haldane!" Jessie ordered from outside the door.

"Step aside, sister," he growled then stormed into the room.

"What is…?" His eyes ran over Isobel in bed beside Dirk. "What the hell is going on here? Is this a jest?"

"He almost froze to death. I was but warming him with my body heat."

He gave a nasty laugh. "Aye. I'm certain."

"What do you want?" Dirk growled low.

"Stay away from Aiden. You almost got him killed. And release McMurdo from the dungeon. He's done naught."

Dirk grunted. "You're daft if you're thinking I'll do either."

"You're not chief! You can't order that anyone be held."

"Get out, Haldane. And not a word to anyone." Jessie tried to shove him toward the door, but, being much larger, he hardly budged.

Oh blast! Haldane would tell his mother. And then she'd think Isobel and Dirk were having a tryst. Maighread might not trust Isobel as much after that. Or she might send someone to tell the MacLeod that Dirk had stolen his bride. Isobel would have to talk to her and assure her she was saving a man's life, not seducing him.

With a muttered curse, Haldane finally stomped from the room and Rebbie left too, giving Isobel the privacy she craved. Although Nannag still sat hunched before the hearth, she was focused on her healing herbs and making a tisane.

Isobel slipped out of bed and quickly draped the arisaid around her like a blanket, trying to avoid looking at Dirk. She couldn't believe he was aroused, considering he was injured and near frozen. Did naught keep a virile man down? That gave her a different sort of heated shivers.

Nannag washed the blood from Dirk's head to better examine his wound. "It bled a plenty, but 'tis only a wee cut and won't need stitching."

Isobel was glad to hear this, but she noticed the area around the tiny cut was turning a reddish-violet color.

A moment later, the healer brought the wooden cup forward. "Here, sir. Drink this." Despite her advanced age, she was a lively little woman with a strong voice.

Isobel helped Dirk raise his head off the pillow while he drank several sips.

"There now. That's good." Nannag took the cup away.

"What is in that?" Isobel asked, realizing too late that she didn't know if the healer was trustworthy.

"'Tis a secret blend for head injuries."

Isobel frowned. Herbs could heal or they could kill. Could Nannag be a pawn of Maighread? The blood in Isobel's veins chilled.

"Never fear, my dear. The recipe was passed down through many generations of my family and has healed many a warrior and removed the pain of wounds."