Jamie stood by as the healer and Caitrin tended to her father. Already, massive bruises had colored Fletcher’s arm and both legs, and his knee had swelled to the width of his upper thigh.
“Nothing broken,” the healer muttered as she applied cold water and poultices. “Sprained or bruised. Ye’ll limp for a while, but ye are a lucky man.”
Caitrin’s showed her relief at the healer’s pronouncement in her shoulders, which lowered as she breathed out a deep sigh.
Fletcher nodded then fussed whenever the healer applied any pressure to his bruises.
Jamie watched and fretted over how the Fletcher suffered those injuries.
MacGregor had ignored Fletcher in favor of finishing off the boar. The display of bloodlust and disregard for his prospective father-in-law alarmed Jamie more now that he thought back on it, than it had in the midst of the confusion. Aye, MacGregor had been right to deal with the danger posed by the wounded beast. But he should have left at least one man to help Jamie with Fletcher, or to stand guard. Did he care so little for his vassal clans? Or just Fletcher?
A chill crept up Jamie’s spine as he contemplated what would happen upon Fletcher’s death. Caitrin would become laird, and if MacGregor married her, he would add Fletcher territory to his holdings. Was that his plan? If so, marrying Caitrin to MacGregor put Fletcher in real jeopardy. The boar hunt might have been just the first attempt on his life. And if that were true, Caitrin would not long survive her marriage with her father already gone. Or did MacGregor want something else from this marriage? Jamie frowned at the tenor of his thoughts and vowed to discuss them with Fletcher as soon as the man had recovered sufficiently to deal with the implications of his injury.
Finally, the healer finished her ministrations and left the room.
Caitrin sat by her father’s side, holding the hand of his uninjured arm. She’d been talking softly to her father while the healer worked. Though she fell silent, her gaze never left him.
Her expression, with its soft smile, was intended to be reassuring, Jamie guessed. But the curve of her lips beckoned sweetly to him. The love in her eyes tortured him. He couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to have that concern, that love, directed at him.
Fletcher cleared his throat.
Jamie tore his gaze from the daughter and looked at the father then felt heat rise in his face when he saw Fletcher’s gaze on him.
“Lathan.” Fletcher cleared his throat again.
“Aye.” Jamie straightened from where he’d been leaning on the wall, arms crossed, and dropped his hands to his sides.
“I owe ye my thanks for yer care today. Had ye no’ been there, I might no’ be here now.”
“Surely ye would. Ye’re no’ hurt that badly.”
“Nay, but how long would it have taken MacGregor to send someone back to me? And if the boar came back? Nay, ’tis well ye were there.”
“I’m glad to have been of service.” He cut a glance to Caitrin, who stared at him with brimming eyes, then looked back to her father. Was that gratitude, or adoration, Jamie saw behind her tears?
“I have another service to ask of ye, envoy.”
So this was to be a formal request. That did not bode well. “If I can, of course.”
“I couldha died out there today. Then who would care for my daughter? Guard her virtue and see her properly wedded and bedded?”
“Father!”
Caitrin’s exclamation didn’t slow her father. “While I am…indisposed…ye must do this,” Fletcher continued. “Uilleam doesna have the stature to rein in the MacGregor—or his men. But ye, the Lathan ambassador, with the weight of yer clan behind ye, ye can do it.”
“I dinna think that’s necessary—”
“I could still die of this, or of something that old healer has done in tending to me. Ye ken I’m right. I willna have my daughter or my clan misused.”
Jamie had to admit the man had a point. A fall of the sort Fletcher had taken could have caused unseen injuries. But to ask this! Placing her virtue in Jamie’s hands, knowing, Jamie suspected, full well how Jamie’s interest in Caitrin could affect his plans. Nay, he dared not think it. Especially not under Fletcher’s watchful gaze.
Dismay soured his belly when he looked at Caitrin and saw her blanch, clearly unhappy with this turn of events. Did her father’s admission that he still might be in danger cause her distress? What else could Jamie do but vow to protect her?
His heart hurt at the thought of Caitrin’s marriage to another man becoming his responsibility, rather than her happiness.He wanted her.He ground his teeth. Aye, he might as well admit it to himself, though he dared not say it aloud. Fletcher would rise up from the bed and kill him if it was the last thing he did and then turn to Will, whom he’d already damned as inadequate, to protect her. Nay, Jamie had to concede the point. No one else at MacGregor could do this.
But where did that leave his negotiation with the MacGregor? He still had a responsibility to convince MacGregor to sign the Lathan treaty. Would he be too much at cross-purposes to accomplish what his own laird required of him? Another glance at Caitrin’s welling eyes made that task secondary.
He must do as the Fletcher asked, at least until he recovered enough to feel capable of confronting the MacGregor.
