Except this was the man she loved lying before her so pale and still.
If she had been with him, could she have prevented him from being wounded? Anger and frustration at being left behind flooded her—and her hands steadied. Glad for the moment he was out cold, she doused the wound with the whiskey.
Alethia hovered, threaded needle in hand, unsure how to proceed. What stitch should she use? Holding her breath, she made the first stitch near the bend in his elbow, wanting to get to the deepest part of the cut first. She concentrated fully on closing the wound and worked silently for what seemed like hours. Her back ached from bending over him. A hand came to rest on her shoulder, and Alethia glanced up for a second to see Lydia by her side.
“He’ll live, True. He’s lost quite a bit of blood, and he will be weak for a se’nnight at least, but ’tis no’ a mortal wound if he’s no’ taken with a fever.”
Alethia nodded, turning back to her task. When had the tears started? Malcolm’s breathing seemed too shallow, and his skin felt cold and clammy. “Beth,” she called.
“Aye, Lady True?” She was at her side in seconds.
“Can you get blankets to cover him? And please ask Molly to prepare a hot broth of beef or venison. He’ll need fluids.”
“Besides the wound, he took a nasty blow to the head.” Robley stood at her elbow. “We were ambushed not a league from home. ’Twas Hugh and the remaining Comyns we routed from Meikle Geddes.”
“And what of Hugh?” Elaine asked the question that burned in Alethia’s mind.
“Once he knew he couldn’t win, he fled like the coward he is,” Robley said, his tone flat.
“And you did no’ pursue him?” Lydia asked.
“Nay. We had Malcolm to tend, and he wished to come home.”
“Hugh’s day will come,” Angus added grimly. “Malcolm will want the privilege himself, aye?”
Once she finished stitching him back together, Liam and Angus came to carry him to his chamber. She followed, anxious to remain by his side.
Lydia stopped her. “My dear, you are needed in the hall. There are other wounds to tend. Malcolm’s chamber is no place for you right now. Once he’s taken care of, then you may go to his side with Elaine in attendance.”
“But—”
“Liam and Angus will see he’s bathed and put to bed.” Lydia turned her by the shoulders and gave her a gentle push away from the stairs.
She watched Liam and Angus as they carried Malcolm away from her, turning reluctantly to help with the many injuries the other men had sustained. She urged Elaine and Lydia to wash the wounds with soap and to douse them with whiskey. After each wound had been tended, she liberally applied her Neosporin.
“My lady, here’s the broth ye asked for.” Molly came into the great hall, carrying a steaming earthenware bowl on a wooden tray.
Alethia took it from her, glad to have a reason to go to Malcolm. “Thank you, Molly. Elaine, do you know where Hunter is?”
“Aye, he finished unloading your…er…he finished a chore for you, and I sent him to the kitchen to be fed, and then he’s to go on to bed.”
Their eyes met for a brief instant of understanding. She nodded. “Lydia, may we go to Malcolm now?”
“Aye, go. I will finish here.”
Malcolm awoke to the sound of snoring. Disoriented, he struggled to recall where he was and what had happened. The left side of his body burned like the devil, and his head throbbed with each pulse of his heart. A single candle in a stand next to his bed illuminated his surroundings. He lay in his own chamber. Vague recollections came back to him. He remembered being roused, held up to sitting while True poured broth down his throat. “God’s blood, I’m thirsty,” he croaked.
Who gripped his hand?
He turned his head slightly, seeking the source of the snoring. His heart melted at the sight. True sat in a chair by his bed, holding onto his hand with both of her own. She’d fallen forward, her head on the mattress and her neck at an awkward angle. ’Twould pain her on the morrow. He smiled. His woman snored.
Malcolm knew he should wake her and send her off to her chamber to rest. ’Twas not proper for her to be here in the middle of the night, but he hadn’t the will to part with her.
Bare beneath the covers, he wondered who had removed his garments. He’d been bathed as well. Had True cared for him as a wife would her husband? He imagined her washing his battered body with tender care.
Another vague recollection came to him. He’d fought to remain awake until he’d seen her worried face hovering above him in his own keep. Once he knew True stood by his side, he’d succumbed to the blackness, certain all would be well.