He drank down the last of the whisky in his cup and thought on all of this. It was moot until Murray was able to travel, so there was time aplenty to make decisions about his orders. Dougal was about to close his eyes and get some sleep when Murray moved, shifting and moaning out his sister’s name as he did.
The man, though a Lowland nobleman and not trained as he’d been by the best warriors in the Highlands, could inflict pain with his punches, too. Dougal had been impressed, as had Niall, in his ability to last as long as he had and to land some bruising blows. His own ribs ached even now. Pouring more whisky in his cup from the keg at his side, he went over and crouched next to him.
“Here, Murray,” he said, lifting the man’s head. “This will help with the pain.” Although he did not resist, Murray eyed him with suspicion as he drank it down. “I am not trying to poison you. If you think to marry my sister, her cooking may very well do that for you.” Dougal let Murray’s head rest back down.
“She told me as much,” Murray said, as he slid his hand down over his tightly bound ribs.
Though now that he thought on the matter of Elizabeth’s cooking, Dougal realized that none of the meals she’d made for them had sickened any of them. Hmmm.
“What are you going to do, Dougal?”
How many times could he fail his sister before doing what was best for her? That was the true question in all this, was it not? And all he knew was that he did not know the answer yet. Pouring himself another wee dram and drinking it down, Dougal shrugged.
“Get some rest, Murray. We will talk in the morn.”
Knowing the man was well-enough, Dougal rose and walked out into the main room. And laying himself down in front the chamber’s door, he went to sleep, wondering just what the bloody hell he would do.
James listened as Dougal left the chamber.
Every part and bit of him hurt, but he was alive. Until he woke to the sound of Elizabeth crying, he did not know if he would ever wake again. He’d actually thought at first that she was sobbing because he’d died. The pain seeped into his mind and he knew that only being alive could hurt this much.
What a fool he’d been! Not speaking on things that mattered with the woman he loved was likely the stupidest thing he’d done in his life. For a time, while drifting in that blackness he thought would lead him to death, he prayed for a second chance with her. To make things right.
He did not know how, he only knew to the core of his soul that he must keep her with him and keep her from further humiliation.
As he drifted back to sleep, he thought on how he could do it and realized the only way was to kidnap her from her brother and get to the priest before they could be stopped. He laughed then and it made his ribs spasm with pain at the movement. The pain reminded him of all the reasons that would be impossible.
But, he would find a way to do it, to prove his love to her and to keep her at his side for the rest of their lives. If he died trying, so be it, however he would try.
For Elizabeth.
Chapter Eleven
“Dougal!” she cried out.
She’d opened the door to the chamber and found Jamie on his hands and knees, heaving.
“Dizzy,” he whispered. “So dizzy.”
“Move away, Elizabeth,” her brother ordered.
She jumped out of his way and watched as he and Shaw lifted Jamie by gripping his arms and moved him back to sit against the wall.
“Open your eyes and look at something,” Dougal ordered. “And do not breathe too deeply. The dizziness should lessen that way.”
Elizabeth met Jamie’s gaze and held it as he took in some slow, shallow breaths as her brother had told him to do. When he smiled, a crooked one because of the injuries to his mouth and jaw, she knew he felt better.
“How did you know?” she asked Dougal.
“I’ve had my wits knocked about a few times,” he replied as Shaw laughed. She suspected they’d done it together and that too much whisky was involved. “Rurik told me and it worked.”
Rurik, the leader of all the MacLerie warriors, would know—he’d probably been the one giving these and other brash, young men thrashings that put them in their places...and addled their wits. Some unspoken message went between the men and Dougal took a step back and turned to her.
“Elizabeth, would you fill the bucket at the stream?”
“There is water in it already.” She frowned as she looked from Dougal to Shaw and Jamie, all of whom looked at her with some expectation in the expression.
“Then, put more in it, lass,” Shaw said.
