Waiting. Wondering if she might say something from out of her deep sleep, but she did not.
Exhaling with frustration, Cameron soaked a cloth in the basin, wrung it out, and then folded it before placing the cool compress upon her forehead.
His hands looking so large and callused against the smooth creaminess of her skin, his fingers lightly brushing her cheek.
A cheek that felt as soft as silk, making his breath catch—and Conall to utter another low whistle.
Cameron bristled. “What?”
“Nothing, brother, nothing. Since it appears you’ll be occupied for a while, I’ll let you know when your guests arrive—”
“No need. Send those women home, Conall.”
“Aye, Laird Campbell, straightaway. Anything else?”
Cameron threw Conall a dark glance and shook his head, but his brother only grinned at him as he headed for the door.
A knowing grin, as if he had witnessed something that made him feel quite merry—och, Conall was simply thinking of that pretty maidservant waiting out in the hall!
Yet to be honest, Cameron considered as he focused once again upon the sleeping lass, he was surprised at himself, too.
He had never bestowed such attention upon a woman,anywoman, but it was no hard task given her condition. She wasn’t staring at him or trying to converse with him, his tongue feeling tight at the thought.
Giving terse orders to female servants didn’t seem to trouble him, but engaging one-to-one with a woman was another thing entirely. He was grateful that he had only to sit there and hope she uttered something for him to latch onto so he could help her… whether she lived or died.
Aye, as Conall had said, the lass washisresponsibility.
He was baron of Campbell Castle, and he wished now he hadn’t banished the MacDougall guards and all the rest of their clansmen from the fortress, instead of imprisoning them after Earl Seoras had been slain. Already that act of mercy had come back to haunt him.
He would have strung them up by their thumbs to discover if any more such hellholes existed beneath the floor of the cells—
“Laird, the healer sent me tae fetch you tae the infirmary at once!”
Cameron lunged from the chair to glare at the red-faced manservant who had burst into the room, the older fellow breathing hard as if he had sprinted the entire way. “I told Tobias that I’d remain here and if he has news—”
“It’s the prisoner found with the lass, Laird Campbell! He’s awake—and he’ll speak tae no one but you! Please, the healer said the man hasna long tae live!”
Cameron was already striding to the door, the servant stepping back with eyes wide as he passed by him.
“Are you coming, man?”
The maidservants standing in the hall gaped at him, too, and jumped when he shouted at them, “Tend tae the lass until I return! Go!”
They did, scrambling to oblige him even as Cameron set off at a run, the manservant hard upon his heels.
Chapter 3
“Does he live?” Cameron’s roar echoed from the high ceiling of the infirmary, the healer rising from bending over a distant cot to beckon to him.
Cameron didn’t look to the left or right at the men who had been Seoras’s prisoners only days ago, some groaning in pain, but strode toward Tobias with his heart pounding. To his immense relief, he saw the healer’s nod, though the man’s expression was grave.
“He gave me his name, Laird, Finnegan—aye, and he’s dying, barely able tae breathe. You must bend down if you’re tae hear him…”
Tobias stepped aside for Cameron, who sank to his haunches beside the cot. The poor wretch already appeared more a white-faced corpse, Finnegan’s cheeks ominously sunken beneath his sparse beard.
“You… you are the laird here?” came a rasping whisper, the man’s bloodshot eyes drilling into Cameron’s face.
“Aye, Cameron Campbell, baron of this fortress—”
