“What else can I do? What else do you need?” He rubbed his ear and stepped aside as the healer began to rip away her clothing.
No difficult task, given their tattered condition, Tobias saying nothing but focusing intently upon his thrashing charge.
Her tunic gone, Cameron saw the binding wrapped around her upper body even as the healer tore at the soiled cloth with his beefy hands, easily freeing her from its bonds.
Her skin was bone white and creased with deep lines from so tight a constriction, her rose-hued nipples a stark contrast that made Cameron swallow hard.
Flattened nipples began to pucker and harden at the room’s cool air, her full breasts taking their natural shape right before his eyes. Perfectly rounded… beautiful—
“Light a fire, Laird—aye, that’s how you can help me!”
Cameron swore under his breath, disgusted with himself for staring like an awestruck fool at the fever-stricken woman, even as she tossed like a wild thing upon the bed.
At once he did what Tobias had bidden him, bright flames soon crackling in the fireplace that had been heaped with logs in readiness for the suite’s next inhabitant.
Not some important guest visiting the fortress, but a hapless released prisoner who began to sob in her delirium in so heart-wrenching a manner that Cameron’s throat tightened.
He remained by the fire, for there was little else for him to do. A host of maidservants had rushed into the room, which had become a flurry of intense activity, Tobias directing them from the bedside.
Several assisted the healer in restraining the now naked young woman, while others quickly bathed and dried her and then dressed her in a linen nightgown, before tucking her beneath what appeared a mountain of blankets.
“Tae sweat away the fever,” came Tobias’s somber voice as if fully aware that Cameron watched silently from the fireplace. “At least we’ll hope for as much…”
“Aye.” Cameron said nothing else in response, for what more could he add? As the maidservants picked up the sodden cloths and towels from the floor, a stout pair still held down the young woman who bucked and tossed beneath the covers.
Meanwhile, Tobias busied himself with his potions and bottles, hastily concocting a dark syrupy brew that he poured into a wide spoon. “Tae make her sleep, Laird. It will be better this way.”
Cameron could but nod, though he stepped closer to the bed when such an agonized cry tore from the woman’s throat that the maidservants gasped.
“Papa, no! Noooooo!”
She thrashed so fiercely that those trying to hold her down struggled and cried out in dismay while Tobias rushed toward the bed.
“Laird, seize her by the shoulders—och, God!”
Before Cameron could reach her side, she sat bolt upright in her delirium and attempted to lunge from the bed—but he caught her before her bare feet touched the floor. Still she fought as if mustering every ounce of her strength, her eyes wide open now—and as vivid a blue as Cameron had ever seen.
“Papa! Stand up! Fight! Daran, help him—ah, God, they’ve struck you down, too! No, no, Finnegan, let me go! I must help them!Help them!”
Cameron tried to pin her forearms at her sides, but too late as she cuffed him with such force on the side of the head that he grimaced in pain. That brought an end to it, for with a resounding curse he sank onto the bed and hauled her into his arms, though she struggled mightily.
Weeping. Moaning. Shouting anew for her father… for Daran, whoever that man might be—och, what did it matter right now?
“Tobias, give her the damned potion!” he shouted, which made Tobias rush forward with his spoon and thrust it into her mouth. Cameron could see that thankfully, much of the stuff was swallowed, though some trickled down her chin to drip onto her white nightgown.
“Give her another, man, for good measure!” he ordered when still she thrashed against him, but already Tobias had refilled his spoon and once again, pushed the brew into her mouth.
The healer quickly forced several brimming spoonsful of water down her throat, too, which made her cough and sputter. Cameron feared for a moment she might choke, but then she slumped against him, her head lodged against his neck.
Her breathing hot and ragged upon his skin, her face wet, her chest heaving.
To his surprise, now that she was wedged within his embrace, he felt muscle in her upper arms where he had believed them thin and weak before.
No wonder she had struck him with such force, landing a blow that might rival a man’s! He felt certain that she couldn’t have been a prisoner for long to not have wasted away to mere skin and bone, as first feared.
Still holding her tightly, Cameron could feel her body growing limp and her breathing less labored, though her burning fever hadn’t eased. He glanced at Tobias, who gestured for him to return her to the bed, which made him gather her against him and rise.
“She’ll sleep into the night, Laird… if she survives that long. I’ll send word tae you if anything changes—”
