Isa lifted the compress from Robbie’s head and doused it back in the water, her spirits spiking up. His forehead had cooled and the fever seemed to be gone, though she had a concern that his face seemed paler than before.
Perhaps it was only the candles that made it seem so. Margery had been in earlier to light them, one on either side of the bed. Fine creamy beeswax candles, not those made of tallow, so there was no bitter smell in the room.
Leaning back over him, she fussed with his covers, checking the bandage to see if the spot on it had grown any larger. A few hours earlier, blood had begun to ooze from the wound—not much to be sure, but blood nonetheless.
She touched her lips to his forehead, breathing in the scent of him as she did so.
“Sweet dreams, dearling,” she whispered, surprised to find him watching her when she drew back. “Yer awake.”
“I’d never sleep through my own wife’s gentle kiss.”
A pain lanced through her heart with his words. Now was the time for her to tell him. To confess to having wed Malcolm MacDowylt. But coward that she was, she couldn’t make herself say the words. Instead she touched her lips to his.
His eyes fluttered shut and he dozed again, so she settled herself back on the stool next to his bed, his hand cradled between her own two.
A light touch on her shoulder and she nearly jumped from her seat.
“Sorry.” Leah dropped to the floor next to her. “Is the little guy okay?”
Little guy?
“Oh, Jamie? Yes, he’s magnificent. I dinna ken a way to thank you for what you’ve done for him.”
“I’m really glad he’s okay. I only wanted to help with the infection in his cheek, but I was so tired after trying to heal Robert, I lost control and the Magic took over.”
“And you’ve recovered as well?”
Leah’s face seemed to glow tonight, shining with radiant health as if this morning’s events had never happened.
“I’m fine now. What about him?” She pointed to Robbie. “How’s he doing?”
How is Robbie doing? He’s dying.
She might allow the traitorous thought to ramble around in her mind, but she’d never give voice to the words. Especially not to his daughter. She needed to be strong for Leah. In spite of the years that had passed, she remembered all too vividly how it felt to lose a father.
“Yer father’s fever seems to be gone, but now it seems the wound is beginning to bleed.” In spite of her resolve, her voice cracked as she spoke, and she covered her mouth with one hand as if she could hold the hurt inside.
“You love him, don’t you?” Leah put her hand up on Isa’s lap, patting her leg. “I’m so very sorry I couldn’t help him. I honestly tried, but I’m just not strong enough to turn back the Faerie Magic that has him in its grip.”
“What Faerie Magic?” This was the second time she’d heard that term, and this time it was no fever-sick man who voiced the words.
Instead of an answer, Leah posed a question in return. “You know about the Faerie, don’t you?” She ran her finger over the back of Isa’s hand as she spoke, tracing the mark that had formed there.
Isa found no point in denying it. “I’m told my mother was Fae. She left us before I was old enough to remember her.”
“Yeah,” Leah agreed, her voice sad. “Whatever else those Faeries might be, they’re especially good at deserting their families, that’s for sure.”
“What does this have to do with the magic you say has stricken Robbie... yer father?”
“Okay. I’m going to be totally honest with you here, but you have to promise me you won’t freak out or anything. Promise?”
“Freak out,” Isa repeated slowly, having no earthly idea what the girl meant. “I will try not to do this thing.”
“First off, Robert isn’t my father. He brought me here to protect me from some really bad guys.” Here she stopped and shook her head, tears shining in her dark eyes. “Really bad Faeries, as a matter of fact. The father/daughter thing is just the cover story he came up with. But his parents have been so great to me. They’ve accepted me as their granddaughter, and for that I love them to pieces.”
Isa stared at the girl, concentrating to follow Leah’s strange pattern of words, trying her best to follow the girl’s story.
“Here’s the thing. About nine years ago in actual time, and don’t even ask about that yet because it will all make sense in a minute or two, Robert got in this god-awful battle to save a friend, and he ended up getting a sword between his ribs for his effort. That friend used Faerie Magic to take Robert into the future, to a time where doctors had the tools to patch him up and save his life, because if he’d stayed here, he’d have been a goner. So—flash forward there he is in the future, doing fine until he agrees to bring me back here, back tohistime, to save my butt. Only problem is, he isn’t supposed to be alive in this time, and it looks like the Faerie Magic is determined to set things straight.” The girl finally paused her nonstop rant to take a breath. “Make sense?”
