Weak, sweating, and still draped over the toilet bowl, she rested her forehead on her arm as she flushed away what had to have been at least a gallon of Rhenish and port punch well spiked with spicy ratatouille. Thank heavens, Ronan had missed her performance.She sagged sideways to a seated position; arms still locked around the porcelain bowl just in case. She would stay like this—nice and still—until Eliza made it upstairs to help drag her sorry ass down to the privacy of her rooms. Why had she been so stupid?
Footsteps thumped across the floor. A cabinet door clattered. Quietly shushing water from the sink. Good. Eliza had already made it upstairs. She kept her eyes closed. Hopefully, Eliza would wait until she was stable enough to take an ass chewing. What an idiot she was. Why would she drink so much so quickly? The last thing she needed right now was a lecture. A cool wet cloth pressed first against the side of her face then gently swabbed the back of her neck. Thank goodness.
“Here, lass. Hold the cloth to yer face whilst I carry ye to the bed.”
Her eyes popped open to Ronan’s concerned gaze. Her stomach churned another warning gurgle. She snatched the wet cloth from him and pressed it hard against her mouth. “Please go get Eliza,” she said around the rag as she turned away.I will not puke. I will not puke.Her stomach rolled with a dangerous slosh, gearing up for round two.
“I dinna wish to leave ye like this. I worry for ye.”
She pressed the cloth against her pounding temple and gripped the toilet bowl even tighter. “Please. Get. Eliza.” She shuddered back to her previously hunched position over the toilet, praying he would go. “Please leave,” she groaned, her voice echoing hollow and urgent against the acoustics of the porcelain bowl.
“Aye, lass.” Footsteps hurried away. “I am verra sorry.”
Mairi closed her eyes and pressed her face against her forearm, tensing until she finally heard the sound she’d waited to hear. The bathroom door quietly closed with a gentle click.
Finally. She was alone and could sing the song of the porcelain bowl in peace.
CHAPTER11
“Eat yer parritch and scones. Mairi should be down soon. She’s never been one to sleep away the day.” Eliza plopped a steaming bowl of oats in front of him. Melted butter and cream pooled in mouthwatering swirls atop the cooked grains. Another plate followed, piled high with two crusty scones, nicely golden and steaming hot as well. “Honey’s in the crock on the table. Ye’ll find more butter in yon white dish.”
Ronan stirred a spoon through the parritch, breathing in the rich nutty aroma. “Mistress Mairi may keep to her bed today. The stew didna set well with her. She was quite ill last night.”
“I doubt that the ratatouille had ought to do wi’ dear Mairi’s illness.” Eliza filled another bowl with the cooked oats and settled at the kitchen table with Ronan. “Our wee Mistress Mairi is not accustomed to heavy imbibing. She rarely drinks anything stronger than a bit of tea or that noxious coffee she loves.”
He thought back to the previous night. Aye. His precious lady had enjoyed several glasses of Rhenish and not a few glasses of Port. He shoveled in another hearty spoonful of parritch. They had both emptied several glasses. It had been far easier to drink than talk. Irritation soured in his gut. How the hell could he woo the woman when he couldn’t think of a damn thing to say to her?
Eliza waved her spoon as though it were a wand. “The two of ye merely need to relax and be open. Be honest with each other. The both of ye fret overly much.”
Ronan rose from the table as Mairi slowly wandered into the room. Lore a’mighty.His heart went out to her sallow appearance. Aye.His dear lady suffered with the bastardly feel of the day after a night spent in the cups.
“Mistress?” Ronan held out his hand.
Mairi squinted past the hand clapped across her forehead. “What?” She bit out the word as though daring him to speak rashly.
“I would help ye to the table.” He eased a bit closer and smiled his friendliest smile. Poor lass. Her head must be a pounding. He turned to Eliza. “Have ye no willow bark tea for the lady?”
Mairi waved him away and stumbled across the room to the other end of the kitchen. She kept her hand clapped over one eye as she popped open a cabinet door and pawed through the strange white bottles squatting on the shelf. “Where’s the ibuprofen, Eliza?”
Eliza pointed her spoon to a higher shelf. “Second shelf beside the peppermint oil.”
Mairi backed up a pace, straining to see the next shelf up without letting go of her head.
“Here, lass.” Ronan pushed forward. “Allow me to help ye.” He scooped a fat white bottle off the second shelf along with a tall slender bottle made of amber glass. He held both out to Mairi.
“Those are Eliza’s calcium tablets and her cod liver oil. Please . . .” Mairi snatched the items out of his hand and plunked them down on the counter. “Please just go sit down. I’ve got this.”
Eliza hooked his elbow and pulled him back to the table. “Mind my advice. Dinna poke the beast before the beast has had her coffee.” Arching a brow higher as Mairi hissed out a string of profanity under her breath, Eliza pointed Ronan back to his chair. “Save yer hide, lad. Sit and let the bear come to ye of its own free will.”
Mairi jerked around, her red-rimmed eyes squinting into strained slits against the bright kitchen light hanging over the table. “I can hear every word you’re saying. A hangover does not render one deaf.”
Ronan scrubbed a hand across his face, taking care to hide his smile. If Mairi thought he laughed at her expense, she would kill him. Spotting a bottle of Rhenish sitting on the counter, he plucked a cup from the hooks under the counter and poured a bit of the wine. “Here, lass. Hair of the dog. Have a wee splash. ’Twill make ye feel better.”
She glared at him through the tangle of curls hanging down into hers as she thumbed open a bottle and shook several of the small brown pills into her palm. She smacked the bottle atop the cabinet, briefly cringing against the sharp noise, tossed the pills in her mouth, then snatched the cup from his outstretched hand, and upended it.
Wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, she gently placed the cup in the sink. “Sorry to be such a bitch. I’m going back to bed for a while.”
“Oh no.” Eliza rose from the table, wagging a finely manicured nail in the air. “Lilia forgot her laptop and she needs ye to bring it to the shop. Hie up to yer room and get on some clothes. Yer sister needs her wee computer to update her inventory.” She turned and beamed her brightest red-lipped smile at Ronan. “Chieftain Sutherland will be happy to come with ye. I’m certain he would love to see Lilia’s shop.”
