“I missed her.” Malcolm had to swallow hard several times.
“I am certain you did, Malcolm. Eat. You must regain your strength quickly.”
“Quickly?”
“Have you no’ heard? You are no’ even on the list of suitable husbands for our True.” She laughed at the sour expression on his face.
“I’ve sent for a priest.”
“’Tis unlikely we’ll see one before spring, and the clan may have her handfasted ere long. Some treasures have naught to do with coin, jewels or land.” His mother gave him an arch look. “Do you ken my meaning?”
“Of course I ken your meaning, Mother. Am I no’ your son? Will she come see me, do you think?”
“Aye. Whilst you sleep. And only to put more salve on your wound.”
“Send Beth to me.” He tore into the meal on his lap.
“As you wish.” His mother patted his knee and rose to leave. “Do put something on before she arrives.” She fetched his robe from the peg where it hung and draped it over his bed.
Clothed and his hunger sated, Malcolm rested his head against his pillow and thought about everything he’d learned this morn. His head had ceased throbbing, no doubt due to the bitter tea his lady had sent. He smiled. She would not speak to him, yet still she saw to his care.
As soon as Beth fetched her for him, he’d beg her forgiveness, hold her close and kiss her sweet lips until she moaned into his mouth. He closed his eyes, allowing the fantasy to unfold behind his eyes.
“Milord, you wished to see me?” Beth opened his door a crack and peered in.
“Aye. Go to your lady and bid her come to me anon. I would speak with her.”
“Aye, my lord.”
She curtsied and shut the door, and he closed his eyes to take up the fantasy where he’d left off. All would be set right soon.
True took far too long responding to his summons. Malcolm became impatient, frustrated and wanted out of his sickbed. A knock sounded on his door. He blew out a breath, relieved she’d arrived at long last. “Enter.”
Beth walked through the door, looking as if she feared the worst. “My lady said I’m to quote her exactly.” She twisted her gown with her hands. “But I dinna ken the word’s meaning, ye see.”
Malcolm let his head fall to his pillow. “It means you are to say her words exactly as she said them.”
“Oh.” Beth’s face smoothed. “Well then.” She took a breath. “Lady True says to tell ye, ‘He’s no’ the bossamee.’” She nodded. “Do ye ken what it means?”
“Aye.” He closed his eyes and massaged his throbbing temples. “I ken what it means.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Using the walls, his bed and anything else within reach for support, Malcolm walked slowly around his chamber to regain his strength. It had been three days since he and his men returned, and he’d had enough of his bed. Since the night True had slept in his arms, he’d not caught even a glimpse of her. Frustration at his weakness ate at him. Her refusal to obey his summons infuriated him, and restlessness, combined with everything else, had him feeling like a caged animal.
It should have been a simple thing—stay awake through the night and catch her when she came with her ointment. But his body betrayed him, and he’d slept through her ministrations to wake with the dawn knowing she’d been there. Her floral scent lingered—had she? Had she held his hand for a moment, or stroked his brow?
His arm itched like the devil. He knew it meant the injury healed well, still ’twas another torture to add to his growing list of complaints. Malcolm snatched his robe from the peg and struggled into it. He wanted a bath and a hearty meal. Both would do much to revive him. Then he intended to go after True and force her to reason.
A knock on his chamber door sent his heart racing. “Enter.” Elaine walked in with a tray. He took a seat by the hearth, exhaling his disappointment on an audible sigh.
“I’m not who you hoped to see.” Elaine smiled as she arranged his breakfast on the table. “Still, I need a word with you.”
“Aye? What revelations will you share this morn, sister mine? I’ve had a belly full of late, and find I suffer indigestion.”
“’Tis about True.” She handed him a mug of the bitter tea for his pain. “There are things I should have told you ere now.”
“If you mean to tell me about her hunting, or that the clan means to marry her off to Robley or Liam, you are too late.” He scowled at her. “I’ve already been told.”
“Nay, Malcolm. ’Tis something True told me during the harvest. She mentioned you and Father believe Giselle drugged her and sent her to Scotia by ship.”