Cameron introduced himself while he sized the man up. MacBean was shorter and slighter, but the hard glint in his eye told Cameron he might be a challengingopponent. “I am waiting for her, aye,” Cameron answered. “Though ’tis none of yer business. ”
“Everything about Mary is my business,” MacBean asserted. “We would have married, if no’ for her stubborn father.”
Cameron pursed his lips. “Perhaps James Rose is wiser than I realized.”
“I saw ye arrive. Ye may think ye have her heart and the clan’s acclaim, Sutherland, but I have a prior claim. She’ll choose me when she has had time to come to her senses.”
“Ye think so?” Clearly, Mary had yet to tell this man to leave.
“Wait and see, Sutherland. Wait and see.” With that, MacBean stalked away and left the hall.
MacBean’s confidence made Cameron uncomfortable. He rubbed his jaw. The man could cause trouble when he found out Mary didn’t want him.
Annoyed that he’d let MacBean get under his skin, he decided to skip the meal, go to the practice field, and push himself harder. The first day he’d joined the other men on the field, before his trip to Sutherland, he’d meant to take it easy, but finally gave in to the urge to go at it. He’d felt a sharp pain as something gave way in his side and for the next day or two, he’d been in more pain. Mary had feared more damage but the healer advised waiting. Then it stopped and he realized his reach had improved and his ability to turn and swing a blade more easily surprised him. The Rose healer told him he’d probably broken loose some scar tissue. She led him to believe that was good. It certainly felt good to be able to swing a blade, and after seeing MacBean, it was just what he needed.
Something must have happened to delay Mary. If she wanted him, she’d know where to find him.
MacBean approached him on the field as soon as he got there.
“Care to see who’s the better man?” he asked with a smirk.
Cameron considered taking him on, but if MacBean chose to make a real fight out of their sparring, Cameron would have to stop him—wounding or killing him—and Mary would be outraged. The lad Edan showed up at the edge of the field then, and Cameron saw his opportunity to avoid trouble. He waved Edan over, and before the lad reached them, Cameron told MacBean, “I promised this lad a lesson. Perhaps another time.”
He spent thirty minutes with Edan, who impressed him with his willingness to try unfamiliar moves. Another of Rose’s men came over as they finished, wanting to learn the same techniques, so he took more time with him. Had Mary seen him and gone about her day? He hoped so. She knew he needed this time on the field.
“Ye’ll be back to yerself in nay time,” the man told him. “Ye almost had me during the last few minutes.”
Hearing the man’s assessment, Cameron laughed, more glad than he expected to be. “I’ll have ye on the ground in a day or two,” he boasted, then winced, hoping he was right. If not, he’d spend a lot of time on the ground instead.
The man clapped him on the back and turned to a different partner. Cameron took a breath and surveyed the men in the practice ground. He wanted to do more, but recalled the healer’s warning not to do too much to quickly. And MacBean still eyed him from the sidelines.He might be better served to return to the hall and break his fast. Mary might be there by now. The idea of seeing her decided him.
Inside, the hall was silent. People sat, many unmoving, some talking quietly. A few came in or left, but they moved as if through deep, rushing water, slowly and with great effort.
“What happened?” Cameron asked the first person who came near him, a lass he’d never met.
“The laird is ill. They say he can barely move.”
“Lady Mary?”
“With him. And the healer.”
“Where?”
“The laird’s solar, last I kenned.”
Cameron nodded and let the lass go on about her business. Mary must be devastated. She’d told him her father hadn’t been well. If what the lass said was at all accurate, he’d taken a turn for the worse.
The door to the solar was open. Cameron slipped inside. Mary and the healer were standing over Mary’s father and conferring in low voices. James Rose, slumped in the chair behind his desk, looked unconscious. Or dead.
Nay, he could not be dead, or Mary and the healer would not be conferring quietly. They’d have called the clan elders, or done something else to begin preparing the Rose laird’s body for burial, and to notify the rest of the clan.
Mary glanced up then and saw him. “Cameron, thank goodness ye are here. We were just discussing how to move Da to his chamber. He needs to rest.”
“What can I do?”
“Fetch some of the men to carry him upstairs, if ye would. He’s too much a burden even for the three of us.”
With help, they got Rose upstairs to his chamber and settled in his bed. Mary also sent for Rose’s young wife, who took her time appearing, took one look in the room and retreated.
