Kieran stepped forward and ran the back of his hand over her forehead and cheeks before nodding and giving Eara his spot beside Maude.
“There isnae much I can do besides pack the wounds and give her willow bark tea to bring down the fever. If the infection worsens, then I must cut away the putrid flesh, but I dinna fear it’ll come to that. Did the lass flush them with whisky before bandaging them?”
“Aye, doused them. Used an entire jug. I dinna ken how she didna faint. It must have burned like the flames of hell, but she barely made a sound.” Kieran couldn’t tear his eyes from how small and helpless Maude looked lying alone in their enormous bed. He’d been so proud of her bravery and stoicism earlier, but now fear threatened to consume him as he blamed himself for her condition.
“Kieran,” Agatha’s hushed tones broke through his haze of guilt. “Ye ken she spoke true. Even if ye hadnae let her ride out with ye, she would have followed. Eara couldnae have made the ride with ye, and it was the right thing to do to take a healer.” The healer grunted her agreement as she crushed yarrow leaves with a pestle and mortar. She added wormwood and chamomile, but paused when she reached for the angelica.
Eara returned to Maude’s side and ran her hands over her belly, poking and pressing as she moved. She shook her head and looked back at Kieran. “I canna use the angelica to help with the fever. It’ll get into her womb, and she might lose the bairn.”
“Bairn?” Kieran gasped. Tremors coursed through him as he stared at Maude.
“Didna ye ken? She’s nearing three moons, I’d say.” Eara gave him a reproachful glare. “A lad yer age and with yer experience didna question why his wife hasnae bled?”
Kieran shook his head. He hadn’t given it much consideration since he’d ridden out for weeklong patrols at least once a moon since they returned to Stornoway. He’d dreaded leaving Maude behind knowing things were a struggle, but as laird, he’d had little choice but to take his turn. She’d never discussed her cycle with him, but he supposed he assumed it had come during one of those sennights.
“I didna think aboot it. I was away for a sennight at a time more than once. I suppose her courses might have come and gone while I was away, but she was never indisposed while I was home.” He chided himself for being so unobservant, but a realization flashed through his mind. “That’s why she’s been nauseous so often. She believed it was from being anxious, but now I dinna think that’s the case. She’s had nay appetite, but she’s struggled for years with what she eats. The vicious things ma mother and sister said to her aboot what she eats reminded her of cruel things she heard when she was growing up and from other ladies-in-waiting. It might have been from the strain she’s been under, but it could also be symptoms of carrying a bairn. But I dinna believe she kens. She wouldnae have kept that from me, and I saw how she looked at the lad and lass this morning. She wants bairns of her own. It was longing, not anticipation. I’d even thought to speak to her, reassure her that they would come when the Lord is ready and that I’d love her even if we never had any. I ken she’d fear I would set her aside for a woman who could give me an heir.”
Kieran knew he was rambling, but he found speaking kept his mind from dwelling on the image of the wildcat attacking her. He climbed onto his side of the bed before sliding across to lay beside her. He lifted the hand on her uninjured side and cradled it between his much larger ones. Everything about her seemed frail as he brushed the hair from her forehead. He was aware that Agatha and Eara spoke to one another, and he even noticed a servant who brought in boiling water and hooked the pot into the fireplace, but he wasn’t interested in anything but Maude.
“Prop her up so I can spoon the willow bark into her. I dinna want her choking.” Eara ordered, and Kieran was quick to obey. The old woman followed the tea with spoonfuls of plain water before ordering Kieran to let Maude rest. Kieran noticed that Eara had packed and dressed the wounds at some point, but the sight of Maude’s sunken, flushed cheeks and the sweat that continued to roll along her temples monopolized his attention. He pressed the cool compress that Agatha handed him against her brow and wiped it along her temples. And so began the routine that carried them through the rest of the day and into the night. Eara offered Maude medicinals every few hours and sat by the fire sewing and humming while Kieran lay on his side observing Maude for any slight change or movement.
As the night grew late, Maude’s fever spiked, and she moaned until Kieran spoke to her. He murmured reassurances of how much he loved her and that she would be well. He promised they would go for long rides alone once she was well. He promised to take her to the loch when the weather warmed and teased her about making love in the water, since she loved coupling in the bath. He teased that they would have an enormous tub all to themselves. He offered to take her back to Sutherland to visit her family as soon as she was well enough to travel. He swore to do a better job protecting her and their bairn. He asked whether she had any hint if the bairn was a lad or lass and whether she’d ever considered names. He shared ones he wondered if she might like. He whispered to her until his voice grew hoarse, but he was convinced she heard him even if she didn’t respond. He remembered being ill from more than one injury, and he’d heard voices through the fog of fever.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
By the third day of Maude’s fever, Kieran was beside himself with fear that she wouldn’t recover. He’d sent off a missive to Hamish and Amelia, asking that they come as soon as possible. He wasn’t sure if he believed their presence would improve Maude’s condition or if he wanted to offer them the chance to say their goodbyes. Eara warned him that if the fever continued much longer, even as the wounds healed, Maude might lose the bairn or it might be born with ailments that would never be set right. Kieran sobbed as he listened to Eara’s warning. Unabashed tears poured down his cheeks as he clung to Maude’s hand. His sobs became so wrenching that Agatha insisted he get off the bed because they were shaking Maude too much. Agatha barely came to his chest, but she held him as he wept. He hadn’t cried so hard and for so long since his father passed away. Dread and doubt niggled at him day and night, denying him sleep and an appetite.
Kieran turned away food and refused to close his eyes except for when his body overcame his will. He bathed and changed his clothes, but didn’t bother shaving. His beard grew in, and he wondered if Maude would recognize him if she awoke. He thought in “ifs” rather than “whens” as the hours turned into days. He slept alongside her, but he spent his days in a chair beside the bed. He turned away everyone but Agatha and Eara, allowing Kyle to visit once a day to report on the clan and their land. The Morrisons had taken responsibility for the raid, but it was a similar situation to what happened in Assynt. The laird hadn’t sanctioned the attack, and sent two calves and five lambs along with a purse of coins as restitution. It did little to ease the grief of losing an entire village, but it was a peace offering. The Morrisons were a strong clan but not as prosperous and powerful as the MacLeods. They offered what they had to spare, but Kieran recognized they hadn’t resolved the matter; however, it would wait until Maude recovered.
Kieran sat in the chair with his head bowed in prayer for the umpteenth time since he laid Maude on their bed. He clung to her hand and brushed his thumb over the back of hers and around to the underside of her wrist, calmed by the beat of her steady pulse. He heard the door creak open, but assumed it was Eara or Agatha who entered. As the vigil stretched out, the two women left Kieran in peace for hours, only returning when Maude needed medicinals, the sweat-drenched sheets needed changing, or the servants brought in a bath. He didn’t glance up until a hand squeezed his shoulder. He started when he saw his mother and sister standing beside him. He glared at them and curled his lip in disgust. He didn’t want either of them anywhere near his wife.
“Get out,” he growled.
“Kieran, you need to rest,” Concern filled Adeline’s voice as she gazed at her haggard son. She’d never seen him in such a state, and she feared he would fall ill. “You won’t be able to care for her if you succumb to exhaustion and hunger.”
“Get out,” he repeated.
“Kier, we may not have liked her,” Abigail interceded. “But we never wished her dead. We heard what she did. We heard how she argued with you to allow her to go. She did it to serve people she’d never met before because they’re part of our–her–clan. She risked her life for someone else’s children, and from what the men shared, she did it without hesitation. Kieran, Mother and I have been so incredibly wrong aboot Maude.”
“Now you see it? When she might die? How convenient. Get out before I have you thrown out. I don’t want you anywhere near my wife. You’ve both done more than enough.” Kieran’s temper rose, and he released Maude’s hand in favor of gripping the arms of the chair to keep from lashing out.
“You’re right,” Adeline agreed. “We’ve been horrid to her because I didn’t get what I wanted, which was to choose your bride. I wanted a woman like me, someone I’d have as company once Abigail left to marry. I wanted someone to be a companion to Abigail while she was still here. I refused to accept that Madeline brought aboot her own fate, and it was easier to blame Maude than Madeline, or you. She wasn’t the beauty I believed you deserved, and I detested her on sight. She never stood a chance of me liking her, through no fault of her own. Your sister and I have made her miserable and been happy for it, but Abigail speaks the truth. Neither of us want her to die. Whether we want to admit it or not, she makes you happy. She’s done wonders for the keep, and our clan is better for it. It’s been painful to accept, but her selflessness has forced your sister and me to examine our vanity and greed.”
“Mother is right that you need rest, Kieran,” Abigail added. “You don’t appear well. Let us help. We’ll keep watch while you sleep.”
Kieran stared at his mother and sister. He knew they were right about how he looked and how he felt, but he didn’t trust them. He shook his head and looked back at Maude, dismissing the women.
“Kieran,” Adeline adopted a tone he hadn’t heard since he was a child. “Youmay be laird, butI’mstill your mother.” She turned around his words from months ago and used them against him. “I tended you, your sisters, and your father when you ailed. It wasn’t just Agatha and Eara. I may have failed in many ways as the lady of the keep, and I may not have seemed a loving mother, but I care aboot you. It’s obvious to anyone to see how you’re suffering. I won’t pretend that I cared aboot Maude before now, but I’ve always cared aboot you. You need to eat, and you need to sleep. You will do as I say, Kieran. Not because I demand it, but because you won’t last much longer if you don’t. What will Maude do if she awakes to you ill? You and I both know she’ll try to get out of bed and tend to you well before she should dream of moving. Is that what you want? You poorly wife to have to take care of you?”
Kieran shook his head as a new wave of guilt assailed him. He knew his mother had guessed correctly. She’d described what Maude would do if she was worried about his health. He looked back at his mother with bleary eyes and nodded. Eara and Agatha had other duties beyond just Maude; that was why he’d sent them away and insisted he would summon them if needed. But he’d feared shutting his eyes for too long in case Maude needed something and he missed it. His mother went to the door and spoke to someone in the passageway; shortly after, a knock came. Kieran grumbled, but his mother met the person at the door. She and Abigail each carried in a chair, and Kieran understood his mother knew he wouldn’t allow anyone else in the chamber. She was being mindful and considerate. Abigail left but returned with a sewing basket over each arm and a large tray of food. Adeline pulled the table beside him, and Abigail placed the tray upon it. Fiona had fixed his favorite foods and a large bowl of steaming bone broth was there for Maude. The cook had been on her best behavior since learning of Maude’s injuries. She’d sent food up for Maude without being asked, and when Kieran tasted the bone broth the first day, it had surprised him that the normally bland food actually tasted good. He picked at what Fiona sent to him, but the need for sleep nipped at his heels. He watched his mother and sister sit in silence by the fire as they sewed. He discovered he appreciated the companionable silence. Eara and Agatha had kept up steady but quiet conversations when all Kieran wanted was peace. He rubbed his eyes and tried to stifle a yawn. He had to trust his mother and sister enough to lie down next to Maude and close his eyes. Sleep claimed him within moments of his head hitting the pillow.
The next two days came with their own routine. Adeline and Abigail helped Kieran bathe Maude twice a day. They took turns reading to her in hushed tones when Kieran slept. They stepped out when he bathed but returned to help change the bedding and her bandages. Kieran spooned broth and tea into her throughout the day, and he even began eating proper meals. His mother was wiping a cool compress over Maude’s face and neck while Abigail was reading when Maude’s voice drifted to him for the first time in a sennight.
“Hungry,” she croaked. Kieran’s eyes flew open to find pools of whisky brown staring at him. She offered him a half-smile while her fingers twitched more than squeezed within his hand. She turned to peer at who ministered to her and the expression of shock when she recognized Adeline had Kieran cooing soothing words.
“They’ve been helping for the past two days, while insisting I sleep. Mother has been gentle and a great help.”
“Nae throttled me?” Maude rasped.
