Page 60 of The Widow Wore Plaid

Jane opened her mouth, paused, then shut it again. She refolded a bandage so that the blood wasn’t so noticeable and applied it to the front of his shoulder. “Hold this with your right hand.” When she’d cleaned the wound on his back as best she could, she refolded another strip of linen and held it loosely in place while she positioned the cravat. A couple of simple loops and knots and the shoulder was bandaged as well as before.

“You still haven’t answered me.” Gareth loved watching his beloved squirm.

“My answer is no. I suppose there is no way, unless someone had interrupted them, that they could be proved to be somewhere else.” A sour look came over her countenance. “I still don’t care. I don’t think it’s right that she can lie and get away with it.”

“It’s not right, my love, but it is the law. There must be proof.” He chuckled. “Can you help me with my shirt, please?”

Jane pulled the shirt over his head, then eased his arms through. “How much farther do you think it is to the castle?”

Glancing up at the sun’s position really didn’t help Gareth. The trees obscured much of the sun’s position and the shadows of the filtered light were skewed. They had traveled so slowly he had no idea how much ground they had covered. This deep in the woods there were no landmarks, save the stream, but he had no idea what stream it was. He shook his head. “I can’t really say, sweetheart. If we’d been walking at a steady, normal pace, I’d say we were about halfway there. But we’ve slowed from that, so perhaps we’ve come a mile?” Inwardly he groaned. “That would mean we are about a mile and a half from the castle, maybe a mile from Loch Kinellan.”

“That’s not so bad.” Jane refused to look him in the eyes, stooping instead to pick up the carry bag. “We can rest when we get to the loch. The water will be refreshing. And if anyone is looking for us, perhaps they will see us on the shore.”

“Now who’s the optimist?” He grinned up at her and raised his hand. “Help me up?”

Once standing Gareth had grave doubts that he would make it a hundred yards, much less all the way to the loch. Dizziness came in waves and every so often he would shiver, despite the heat. When they began to move, he couldn’t seem to catch his breath, even though they walked slowly and carefully down the steep incline. Soon he might not be able to walk at all. When that moment came, he would be hard-pressed to find a way to make Jane leave him and continue on to the castle. A more stubborn woman never lived, although he had to admit if the situation was reversed he would never leave her side. Therefore, he’d have to leave that decision until the time came.

The next hours were the most wretched and painful he’d ever experienced. Each step became agony, the struggle to breathe almost as great as the one to move. Several times he tripped over hidden roots or rocks, falling to the ground twice. Each time he hadn’t believed he’d be able to stand, and yet Jane’s gentle encouragement and strong arms had him on his feet, moving forward, step by step.

At last, the trees began to thin and the day lightened. Stumbling and weary, Gareth and Jane trudged out from under the tree cover into dazzling bright sunshine. The gray-green water of Loch Kinellan spread out before them, shimmering as it lapped softly against the rushes at the water’s edge. A slight breeze ruffled his hair as Gareth dropped to the ground, completely spent. Still, nothing had ever looked so beautiful as the glimpse he’d had of the top ramparts of Castle Kinellan, little more than half a mile away.

Puffing out her breath after the stress of half carrying him the last hour or so, Jane flopped down next to him, laid herself out flat, and groaned. “I think I’ll sleep for a week after this.”

“What about our wedding?” At least Gareth could still grin. “Do you plan to sleep through that?”

Shading her eyes, she looked up at him. “I’ll stay awake as long as you do.”

Chuckling, Gareth lay down next to her. “I take your point. We can both rest up for the festivities.” He closed his eyes. “Starting now.”

“Oh, no, Kinellan.”

He sensed movement next to him but was too tired to open his eyes again. Lying down had probably been a mistake.

“We are not home yet.” Jane had risen, her voice now high above him. “Only rest a very few minutes, love. I’m going to see if the water is drinkable.” Grass rustled as she moved away from him.

“It’s not, Jane. There’s too much silt mixed in with it. You end up with a mouthful of mud.” He’d found that out as a young boy fishing on a hot day.

“Bletch.” There was the sound of spitting, which made Gareth smile. “You’re right.” Jane returned and sat down next to him. “We need to move on, Gareth.”

His aching body protested that order. Moving a single muscle caused pain; moving all his muscles would be torture. He could visualize the rest of the journey to Castle Kinellan, every excruciating step. Still, it must be done. With an effort he managed a sitting position, then had to sit and pant until his breathing calmed. He didn’t want to think what standing might do to it. Blast this weakness. Moving slowly, he got to his knees, then stood and looked across the loch to his castle for motivation to continue.

The dizziness caught him off guard somehow. His head spun until he had to close his eyes against the terrible sensation. He sank back to the ground and rested his head on his knees. What were they going to do if he truly could not go on?

Chapter Twenty-Five

About to rise, Jane stared in horror as Gareth stood, wobbled, then collapsed back to the ground.

A low moan issued from him as he bent almost double, head to his knees.

“Gareth, what is it?”

“Dizzy. Can’t see straight.”

“Here.” She laid him flat, then had him turn on his side. That position always helped her when she was ill. “Stay still. I’ll get some water to bathe your face.” What he needed was water, or better yet his bed in the castle with a doctor at his side. Rising, she glanced at the castle in the distance. If only there were some way to signal them, but that was impossible. Best make do with what she had.

At the water’s edge, lacking any other material, she dunked the skirt of her riding habit in the cold water. Needs must when the devil drives. She wrung it out a little, so it didn’t drip, and ran back to Gareth, his face now pale. “Let’s try this, love.” Gently, she bathed his face, though he was cooler to the touch than she’d expected. But the water actually seemed to help for he opened his eyes and breathed easier.

“I’m never going to be able to walk the rest of the way, Jane.” The anguish in his voice tore at her heart.