Page 13 of The Beastly Earl

“You’re at Argaty Keep, lass. You’ve been sick ever since I found you on the moor.” Ewan pulled the door open. “I’ll send Mrs. Selkirk in to tend to you.”

He didn’t wait for her reply. He simply left the room and closed the door behind him, grateful to be done playing nursemaid. A voice in the back of his head cackled like a bean nighe.

Chapter 3

Louisa blinked her eyes and stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. Her head was throbbing and she closed her eyes against the pain. Almost immediately she regretted doing so as her nightmares from last night filled her head. Images of a one-eyed beast hovering over her. Its boney fingers clicking in her ear like knives scraping against each other as they menacingly threatened to cut her into small pieces.

A shudder jarred her body, and Louisa’s eyes flew open in an attempt to make the image disappear. The vivid memory slowly faded as the face of a boy flitted through her head. It was impossible to see him clearly, but she was certain he’d been real. She touched the back of her hand where she could still feel the warmth of his touch.

The memory of the boy receded, and the image of a man pushed its way forward. Engulfed in the shadows his tall figure had been barely visible. He’d spoken to her, and although she couldn’t remember what he’d said the sound of his voice had been kind and soothing. But it was what he didn’t say that made her heart weep for him. The man’s emotions had been almost tangible, and they’d pressed relentless against her senses.

Only one other time in her life had she sensed such pain, anger, and despair in someone. The stranger’s emotions were as deep and profound as the ones Caleb had projected when Georgina had died. As Louisa tried to piece her jumbled thoughts together in some coherent fashion, a crackling pop echoed out of the fireplace.

Where was she? The small fire casting its light on her surroundings made it possible to see most of the room except for its shadowy dark corners. The only other light in the room were the thin lines of soft gray that outlined curtains over a large window. Louisa tried to sit up, but she’d barely raised her head up off the pillows before the room began to spin around her. At the same time, her stomach lurched in the same nauseating way it had when she’d carried Wills.

Closing her eyes, Louisa inhaled several deep breaths for a moment in an effort to make the nausea go away. She looked up at the ceiling once more then slowly turned her head first to her left and then her right. There was nothing recognizable in the room, which made it obvious she wasn’t at Callendar Abbey. She winced as a small throb pulsed in her temple. In bits and pieces, the events of the past day fluttered through her head like puzzle pieces coming together.

“Caleb.”

Her quiet cry echoed softly through the room. Aside from her nightmares, the last thing she remembered clearly was Caleb standing in front of her, ordering her to get up off the ground. Louisa squeezed her eyes tightly shut to keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks. The an dara sealladh had never been as vivid or clear for her as it had been last night. Her brother had been so real she could have reached out and touched him.

The throbbing in her head made her wince as she touched the side of her head. Her fingers brushed over a small knot on her temple to lightly trace the lump. It was just a little smaller than the size of an egg. She must have hit her head on a rock when Tulipan had thrown her. Louisa blew out a sharp breath of exasperation. She should have known better than to choose the blasted animal over Colman as the best horse to ride to Doune Castle. The wagon.

Oh dear God, Fergus. Had someone found him?

Louisa shot up then quickly sank back into the mattress as nausea rolled over her. Eyes closed, she shivered as the room’s chilly air blew across her skin. She pulled the bedcovers up over her shoulders, and a split second later she drew in a sharp breath. Dear Lord, she wasn’t wearing any clothing. Who had undressed her?

The memory of the man in the shadows made her inhale a sharp breath. Surely, he hadn’t undressed her. Humiliation swept through her at the possibility. Devin was the only man who’d ever seen her naked. Her gaze scanned the dimly lit room in search of her clothes, but she didn’t see them anywhere. If she were to ensure Fergus was safe, she needed to dress, which meant finding her clothes.

The sudden sound of the door opening made her grow rigid. A second later, she relaxed as a plump woman with a smile on her face entered the room. The woman was carrying a tray while a young girl followed close behind carrying Louisa’s dress.

“Tis good to see ye awake, lass. We were quite worried about ye there for a wee bit.” The woman glanced over her shoulder at the younger woman. “Maggie, open those curtains then go back tae the kitchen and see tae it Lord Argaty’s breakfast is ready for Asadi tae take it up tae his lordship.”

The woman carried the tray to the night stand, and the dishes on the large platter rattled noisily as she set it down. The young maid laid Louisa’s clothing on the end of the bed then scurried to the window to open the drapes. Although it was gray and rainy outside, the light served to give the room a much more inviting atmosphere.

Louisa caught the warm scent of porridge with a small whiff of honey. It smelled as good as what Mrs. Campbell made every morning at Callendar Abbey. Her stomach growled as the delicious smell of bacon wafted beneath her nose, but she ignored her hunger.

“Where am I? Is this Doune Castle? Has someone found Fergus? Is he all right?”

“You’re at Argaty House, lass. But I do no’ ken a Fergus.”

“Fergus is my driver. He was injured. I left him at the wagon and went for help.”

The woman stared at her in confusion, and Louisa’s heart sank. Fergus had been out in the storm all night, and the canvas would provide only so much protection. Horrified the man was most likely still lying injured on Doune Road, Louisa pointed toward her clothes at the end of the bed.

“I must dress,” she said fiercely.

“It’s too soon for ye to be out of bed, lass.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Louisa said stubbornly. “Now, hand me my clothes.”

A frown creasing her brow, the woman’s cheery expression faded as she reluctantly retrieved Louisa’s garments. As Louisa dressed with the woman’s help, the effort took its toll on her weakened state. When the buttons on the back of her dress were done up, she rose to her feet. Instantly, another wave of nausea careened through her. One hand clutching the corner of the night stand, she sank back down onto the mattress.

“Och, now, lassie. Dinna ye fash none. I’ll tell McCallum tae be seeing after your driver.” The older woman clucked softly in the same fashion Aunt Matilda always did when she was consoling her. “You’re too weak to be up and about yet.”

“Mrs. Selkirk is quite right.” The sharp voice made Louisa lift her head and look toward the door of her room. “You must stay in bed or you’ll undo everything my son has done to make you well.”

The woman walked toward the bed with a regal bearing, but it was the cold expression on her face that made Louisa remain silent.