“Weel, mayhap she really likes that bed.”
She shook her head and patted him on the back. “Idiot male. Mayhap ye ought to visit with Payton and Kirstie. There are two people who ken a lot about love and loving.”
Brenda headed to the door but stopped before leaving, looking back at Callum. “Is Robbie e’er coming back?”
“I dinnae ken. There is this lass he fancies and he hopes to win,” he replied, then started and turned to stare at her. “Ye werenae . . .”
“Nay! Oh, I do like him. He has always been there, hasnae he. Always saying ‘I will go with ye,” always watching out for people. I just realized, if he doesnae come back, I will sorely miss him. Is she a good lass?”
“Oh, aye, but she was in prison when Bethoc was and the sheriff and his guards used her harshly.”
“Poor lass. Is she bonnie? Big as he is, Robbie is a fine-looking mon. He deserves a bonnie lass.”
Callum could not help it; he grinned. “Oh, aye, she is bonnie. The kind of bonnie to make a mon stupid. Just made Robbie determined to stay and try his wiles on her.”
“Wiles? Robbie doesnae have any wiles.”
“Nay, and, with this lass, that will work in his favor. Dinnae worry about him, Brenda. It was actually looking good for him before we left.”
Brenda smiled and hurried out. Callum breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment there he had been very afraid Brenda had cared for Robbie as more than a friend. He was pleased to avoid that entanglement, more than pleased that Brenda’s concern had been no more than that of a friend who wanted Robbie to be happy.
Bethoc made a noise and he took her hand in his again. She did not wake, though, and he studied her carefully. She was pale but that was to be expected. There had been a lot of blood loss but he was no judge as to whether it was too much or not. Callum just wished she was not so small, almost too delicate. He bent over and kissed her forehead.
He was wondering what to do with himself when the door opened and Margaret ran over to him. She climbed up on his lap and stared at Bethoc. Callum wondered just how much he should tell the child.
“Fix?” Margaret said, clutching his hand.
“Brenda fixed her, love. She is just sleeping now.”
“Mon dead.” She ran a finger across her throat and made a grotesque face complete with her tongue hanging out and to the side.
“Aye,” he replied after forcing down the urge to laugh. “He was trying to stab me but Bethoc pushed me out of the way.”
“Bethoc save ye.”
“She did, aye.”
“Good.”
They sat quietly together watching Bethoc sleep. She asked no questions and he decided she knew all she felt she had to. A slight shift in Margaret’s weight made him look down at her and he realized she had gone to sleep as well. After debating with himself for a while, he moved to settle the child on Bethoc’s unwounded side. Sitting back down, he smiled faintly when Margaret curled up against Bethoc and, even though still sleeping, she put an arm around the child.
* * *
Bethoc woke slowly and the pain slipped in. She hissed but knew there was no way to turn to ease it. Then the whole incident of being stabbed filled her mind and she grimaced. The fool may not have hit her heart or lungs but it was still an incredibly inconvenient injury. It would be quite a while before she could turn or bend without some pain.
Cautiously, Bethoc eased herself up into a sitting position. It was painful but not too much so. She desperately needed to relieve herself, however, but had the sinking feeling she would not be able to get to the garderobe or chamber pot without help. Wounds stripped one of a lot more than the ability to move. Dignity disappeared as well, she thought morosely as Brenda arrived with a tray of food.
“Ah, ye are sitting up,” said Brenda. “Need some help?”
“Aye,” Bethoc said, fighting not to sound cross. “I have to get to the garderobe.”
“Weel, we have a chamber pot for ye. And a screen for ye to hide behind. I will just set ye down on it and help ye off.”
“Are ye sure the garderobe wouldnae be better? It is higher.”
Brenda stared at her for a moment, her eyes wide, then she laughed. “Aye, ye are right. It would be better. Now we just have to see if ye can walk there.” Brenda took her by both arms, ready to help her out of bed. “May need to give Callum a call if ye cannae make the walk.”
That was a humiliation she was determined to avoid. Bethoc suspected Brenda knew that and was using it to encourage her. It worked. She was determined to get to the garderobe and back without calling for Callum. To her relief no one interrupted as they made a thankfully short walk to the garderobe. Brenda stood guard at the door and Bethoc endured the pain the simple act of sitting caused her. By the time Brenda helped her back to bed, Bethoc was trembling and sweaty.
