“There’snothing else tae be done, Laird. You must get some rest, I insist upon it! It’s only a few hours before dawn.”
Alec nodded at Simeon, whose watery gaze held deep concern for him as well as the wounded men lying upon cots in the infirmary.
Fortunately no others had died, but there were several with grievous injuries that would take time to heal—och, why hadn’t he and his men arrived sooner to cut down those accursed raiders?
That thought alone filled Alec with such fury melded with regret…for he had been abed with Rowen at the height of the attack.
Aye, his remorse for those who had suffered so grievously—as well as for how heartlessly he had treated her.
The consummation of their marriage less an act of tenderness than a necessary formality of the wedding ordained by King Robert.
Aduty, or so Alec had declared it. He knew he had hurt her when he’d plunged himself into her willing body, which made him wince now that he hadn’t taken more time with his virgin bride.
More time to kiss her and caress her, but in truth, he had wanted her so fiercely that he couldn’t have waited any longer to possess her…only for him to speak to her so unkindly afterward?—
“Go tae your wife, Laird,” Simeon said firmly as if surmising that Rowen was forefront upon his mind. “I hope by now she has gone tae your bedchamber after working so tirelessly half the night. Everywhere I looked…the great hall, aye, and in the kitchen when I went there tae ask for more hot water, there was Lady Mackay. Helping tae lay straw and blankets upon the floor for the women and their bairns. Ladling out bowls of stew until her arms must have ached, but still she didna stop. She even rocked several wee ones tae sleep so their mothers could rest—och, she’s a good lass, Laird, and I pray tae God you recognize it.”
“Are you admonishing me, Simeon?” Alec queried sharply, not wholly surprised when the old healer eyed him with some disapproval.
“I saw little warmth from you toward your bride at supper, though you praised her tae your clansmen. Didna it mean anything tae you that she stayed by your bedside while you slept like the dead? Praying for you, aye, and weeping?—”
“You dinna know the truth of it, man,” Alec broke in, a wave of weariness settling over him that Simeon must have noticed because he sighed heavily.
“Aye, mayhap not, but I saw no falseness in her tears or prayers. If it’s true after all that she had a hand in your injury, I saw nothing but honest remorse from the lass. Och, do you wish for a happy marriage or one shattered by resentment and distrust?”
Alec didn’t answer, his anger rising that the healer would censure him so boldly in front of the wounded, though they stood by the door to the infirmary and Simeon had kept his voice low.
As if sensing he had overstepped himself, the healer sighed again with what sounded now like resignation.
“Forgive me, I’m weary, too. Here, I’ve some soothing balm for your wife. A serving maid came tae me with some alarm after she went tae stoke the fire in your chamber and saw blood upon the bedspread. I’m glad of your recovery, Laird, you’ve proved yourself a robust man indeed, but mayhap you’ll give her a day or so before you?—”
“I understand,” Alec said tersely, though fresh regret surged through him if he might have caused Rowen discomfort that required the healer’s balm.
He hoped not, for clearly she had toiled long and hard tonight in spite of any soreness from their lovemaking—och! Had it beenlovemakingwhen he had railed at her so callously afterward about doing their duty?
Wincing again, Alec took the vial of balm from Simeon and bid him a brusque goodnight, though already the healer was hurrying back to one of the wounded men who had cried out in pain.
In truth, Alec was glad to leave the infirmary that smelled of urine and sweat, the cold blast of air on his face when he strode out into the bailey enough to hold another wave of exhaustion at bay.
All was quiet now except for the sputtering torches and the low voices of the guards who patrolled the ramparts, though Alec felt a recurring sense of unease that made him clench his fists.
What if those Orkney raiders hadn’t yet sailed for home and were moored somewhere along the coastline while they awaited another nightfall to wage further attacks? The four men he had sent to the north and south had hopefully warned other villages, but who could say where the merciless bastards would strike next?
“Och, man, you need sleep,” Alec muttered under his breath, anything to stop the myriad of concerns crashing in upon him.
When would his father’s men arrive to bolster his own forces?
How quickly could the villagers’ homes be rebuilt before the worst of winter set in? His steward had informed him that they had food stores enough to feed everyone for a few weeks, but what of longer?
Aye, most pressing of all to him, why could he not release his distrust of Rowen even after everything Simeon had told him?
Alec had never known such overwhelming relief to see her standing in the doorway to the keep when he had believed her riding toward her father’s fortress.
Alone. Mayhap unarmed, only to learn she had sent out poor Gaira instead!
His relief—aye, and something so much stronger—thrust away by fresh mistrust that had threatened to choke him for much of the night.
He had caught only glimpses of Rowen as he’d gone about all the tasks he needed to attend to…though each time he had met her eyes for even a moment, he had felt so intense a longing, in spite of himself, to pull her into his arms and kiss her.
