Taming The Highland Bride Part 9

"The tent," Merry said before he could respond.

The men immediately moved that way with their lord, and Merry followed.

The soft glow of candlelight filled the tent when they entered, and Una was just straightening from making a bed of furs on the floor. When she turned to find the men carrying an unconscious Alex inside, her eyes widened in surprise and then shot to Merry full of questions.

"I need my medicinals," Merry said quietly as she waited for the men to set Alex down and get out of her way. Fortunately, they didn't dally, but filed out of the tent the moment they'd laid her husband down. She immediately knelt at his side, made anxious by how still and pale he was.

"Here."

Merry glanced around to see Una holding out her bag of medicinals. Taking it with relief, she opened it to retrieve her various balms and salves.

"Should I be prayin' that he heals or that he doesna?" Una asked dryly.

The question surprised her, but Merry supposed it shouldn't have. She hadn't exactly been overjoyed about her marriage these last three weeks, and on her wedding night the answer would have been a simple one: Pray he dies and frees me of this marriage. But things had changed. Merry found she quite liked this man, and-given the chance-thought she might just come to love him...and she had promised to give their relationship a chance.

Letting her breath out slowly, Merry nodded. "Pray he heals."

"I kenned it."

Merry noted the slow smile spreading the maid's lips. Eyes narrowing suspiciously, she asked, "Kenned what?"

"Ye're fallin' in love with him."

Merry stiffened at once. "I-"

"Oh, doona bother denyin' it. I've watched ye watchin' him these last weeks. He may drink a wee bit at night and slur his words, but he's naught like yer father and brothers. The man is a man. He doesna shrug his responsibilities and leave them to ye to carry. He's fair with his people, and cares about them, and that shows in all he does." She nodded solemnly, and patted her shoulder. "No one's perfect, and he's a good man despite his drinking. He'll treat ye right."

The words had barely left her lips when the tent flap opened and Gerhard ducked inside.

"How is he?" the soldier asked.

"Still unconscious," Merry answered grimly as she returned to sorting through her medicinals, searching for something that might be of use. She had salve that would soothe the soreness of his shoulder and encourage it to heal, but was more concerned with the head wound. Unfortunately, there was little she could do for that but keep a cold compress on it to try to keep the swelling down. The rest was up to Alex.

Alex was beginning to think that he might be cursed. He'd been plagued by headaches for the last three weeks. Most mornings he woke up with a dull throb at the back of his head. Of course, none of them had been as bad as the headache that had woken him the afternoon of his tooth pulling when he'd downed a pitcher of whiskey...until now. The headache that greeted him when he woke up and forced his eyes open in the tent was easily as bad as that one, but this time it was centered on the left front side of his head, and it was bad enough to force a low groan of pain from him as he squinted his eyes closed, trying to force the pain back.

"Ye're awake."

That brilliant bit of deduction sounded like it came from his wife's sweet lips and made him blink his eyes open again to find her bending over him. He scowled when he got a look at her, not because of the relieved expression on her face, but because of the dark circles under her eyes.

Alex was about to ask why she looked so weary when a rustle drew his gaze past her to see that they were in his travel tent. He didn't normally bother with it when he traveled on his own, but had decided to bring it to make the trip more bearable for his wife. That thought spurred his memory, making him recall the journey that day, taking Merry to the waterfall, and all that had followed. Including the boulder crashing down toward him.

"How diya feel?" Merry repeated. He was a tad surprised to hear the amount of concern in her voice. While they had got along relatively well since consummating the wedding last night, the three weeks before that had been somewhat difficult, and he wouldn't have been surprised had she treated him more cavalierly instead of sounding like she cared.

"My head hurts," he said honestly and then asked, "What time is it?"

"Near dawn, I think," Merry answered, her gaze moving to the open tent flap and the grey light of predawn visible outside. She then suddenly turned away to pick up something. When she turned back he saw that it was a mug of liquid. She slipped an arm beneath his head and used it to help lever him up and then held the mug to his lips, promising, "'Twill help with yer poundin' head."

Alex hesitated, but then opened his mouth to allow some of the brew to slip inside. A grimace immediately tried to claim his lips, and he had a very strong urge to push the drink away, but he resisted and drank as much as he could before his stomach threatened to rebel. He then raised a hand to let her know it was enough, relieved when she immediately removed the mug and eased him back to lie down.

Alex did grimace now, his lips working and tongue rubbing itself against his teeth and palate in an effort to scrub away the awful taste coating it.

"'Tis vile, I ken, but 'twill help," Merry said sympathetically.

Alex merely nodded and closed his eyes, waiting for the pounding in his head to ease. If Merry's medicinal was anything like Bet's, Alex knew it should begin to work after a quarter hour or so. And it certainly tasted as vile as Bet's so should work, he thought with disgust, and wondered why things that were said to be good for you always tasted so horrible.

The moments pa.s.sed slowly for Alex. He had several questions he'd have liked to ask, but his mind was taken up with the pain consuming him and he kept his mouth shut. A long time seemed to pa.s.s before he became aware that Merry was running her fingers soothingly over the uninjured side of his brow. When he noticed that, Alex knew the brew was starting to work. He blinked his eyes cautiously open then, relieved when the pain didn't ratchet back up, and then released a small breath and closed them for another few minutes. When he began to be aware of a need to relieve himself, however, he decided it was time to get up.

"What are ye doin'?" Merry asked with dismay when he started to sit up. "Lie back down, ye've had an awful blow to the head and been unconscious all night. Ye need to lie still and let yer body recover."

"As you just said, I have been unconscious all night. 'Tis plenty of recovery time. Now I need to get up and about," he said firmly.

"Ye've no business being up and about," she snapped, placing her hands on his shoulders and pushing in an effort to force him back into a supine position. Much to his amazement, the action worked, and Alex found himself collapsing back onto the linens and furs he lay on. The fact that he was so weak, however, merely made him more determined to get up, and he immediately started trying to rise again. His wife merely kept her hands on his chest, holding him in place. Disgusted by his own weakness, he admitted, "I need to relieve myself."

"Oh." She bit her lip and glanced around, and then brightened and peered down at the mug in her hand. "Mayhap ye could-"

"Do not even suggest it," Alex said grimly, positive she was going to say he should relieve himself into the mug rather than get up. He might be weak, but it would be a cold day in h.e.l.l before he would willingly do something like that.

Merry set the mug aside, then scowled at him and bit out impatiently, "Verra well, I'll ha'e to help ye then."

She sounded incredibly testy. Considering that he was the one whose head was still pounding, Alex thought that wasn't well done of her, but then he once again noted the circles under her eyes and the pallor to her face and thought perhaps she had every right to testiness after all. He was suddenly sure she hadn't slept at all, but had sat up all night watching over him like a mother hen watching her chicks.

Alex wasn't sure how to feel about that. One part of him was grateful and glad she cared enough to bother, and the other was annoyed and thought she should have slept and taken care of herself. He started to shake his head at his contrary thoughts, but caught himself at the last moment and saved himself the pain.

"Come, let me help ye," Merry murmured.

Alex considered refusing her offer of help, but the moment he was sitting upright the tent showed a terrible tendency to spin, and so he gave in gracefully and accepted her a.s.sistance. Once upright, he'd hoped he could manage on his own, but that also proved not to be the case and he had to let her help him out of the tent.

"Where to?" she asked in a whisper as they staggered outside. Both of them had been forced to hunch over to get through the low opening the tent flap offered, and the action nearly saw them crashing to the ground. Certainly, Alex would have, had Merry not quickly bent herself forward and turned so that he fell across her back when he started to stumble.

Shaking his head at the state he was in, Alex used her back to push himself upright again, and then suffered her to slip under his arm to support him once more.

"Behind the tent is far enough," Alex muttered, eager to get this done and get back inside the tent where he at least did not need aid to lie down. Truthfully, falling down was probably the thing he was best at, at the moment, Alex acknowledged unhappily. Certainly, his mind didn't seem to be up to much in the way of thinking. Here he was, staggering around, unable to even walk upright, yet one glance down toward his wife found his eyes landing on her generous cleavage, and he was suddenly aware that little Alex, too, was awake, with his head half raised and pushing against the front of his braies.

Dear G.o.d, what the devil was the matter with him? Alex wondered with self-disgust. Wanting his wife was one thing, but this was just ridiculous. Abnormal, even, he was sure. His head hurt less than it had, but it was still pounding something awful. He was also weak as a babe and should have absolutely no interest in anything of the like. In fact, his mind didn't...but his body did.

"How is this?"

Alex tore his thoughts from his body's ridiculous wants and glanced around to see that while he'd been busy thinking, his wife had managed to steer him around the tent to a small copse of bushes behind it.

"This will do. I can-What the devil are you doing?" he gasped with dismay as she immediately began to work at the tie of his braies. Alex tried to push her hands away, but weak as he was, the effort wasn't very successful.

"I'm merely tryin' to help ye," she said dryly. "Trust me, me laird, I'm too weary to ha'e anything else in mind and ken ye're in no shape to-Oh." Merry paused as she managed to get his braies untied and his now almost full-blown erection sprang out into evidence. "Well, that is-Mayhap ye're feeling better than I gave ye credit fer," she muttered.

"I can manage the rest on my own," Alex growled, embarra.s.sed and frustrated all in the same moment. Truly, his head was pounding, his shoulder throbbing, and despite the hours he'd been unconscious he thought he could sleep standing up at that moment, and yet, little Alex was waving in the night air like a flagpole eager to raise a banner. "Just go back to the tent. I shall return once I have finished."

Merry hesitated, but then slipped out from under his arm, waited just long enough to be sure he wasn't going to fall on his face, and moved away with a slight rustle.

Relieved that he no longer had a witness to this humiliation, Alex quickly relieved himself. It was only then he realized his wife had not obeyed and returned to the tent as he'd ordered. He'd tucked himself away and was struggling to retie his braies when Merry was suddenly there doing it for him.

"I can manage on my own, thank you, wife," he snapped.

Merry ignored him long enough to finish tying the laces and then straightened and eyed him solemnly before saying, "Ye need to accept aid and advice from others, husband. Everyone needs a.s.sistance at one time or another."

Alex stared at her, a slow smile curving his lips, and then he gave a slight bow. "Touche."

He thought he caught a glimpse of a quick smile claiming her lips, but it was dark out, and Merry ducked her head quickly as she repositioned herself under his arm and then they were moving back toward the tent. By the time they got back inside Alex was more than grateful for her a.s.sistance. He never would have made it on his own. His legs were shaking like a plucked harp string.

The moment they reached the fur, he collapsed on it with relief. Alex was so exhausted he didn't even protest when Merry settled herself beside him and raised him up to press the mug of her vile liquid to his lips, but merely gulped it down until it was gone. When she then laid him back on the furs, he closed his eyes and went right to sleep.

chapter Eight.

M erry woke to the rhythmic rock of the horse, found herself in her husband's arms, and at first thought it was still the first day of their journey. At least until she glanced up, spotted the bruise and cut on his forehead, and recalled all that had happened. Merry immediately sat up and turned an accusing glare on her husband.

"What are ye doing up?"

"Riding," Alex answered reasonably enough, but she didn't miss the twitch of his lips and knew he was amused. That just made her angrier.

"Ye've no business being up and about after the trial ye went through yesterday."

This time he didn't bother hiding his amus.e.m.e.nt, but smiled at her in a way that seemed almost affectionate and said, "You are adorable when you act the shrew, Merry Stewart."

"Merry d'Aumesbery now," she reminded him, putting a little more snap in her voice. She then warned, "And I am a shrew, and as such, like to make ye miserable do ye no' explain-"

"I feel fine," Alex interrupted patiently. "Good as new in fact. It must have been that vile mixture you made me drink, 'tis surely a miracle cure. I slept another hour or two, woke up pain-free, and decided I was fine for traveling today. So here we are, halfway through the day and another half day closer to Donnachaidh."

Merry was sure he was lying. While she didn't doubt the tonic she'd given him might have helped him feel a bit better, it would hardly make him feel good as new. She had no doubt his head was probably still pounding at least a bit, and his shoulder was probably tender. He, however, was apparently unwilling to admit it. She didn't know what to think of that. Merry was used to men who whined and carried on at the least little ache or pain...and then used it as an excuse to drink to excess.

"You were exhausted from watching over me last night," Alex went on. "So I let you sleep as we broke camp and then brought you onto my mount again so that you could continue to catch up on the sleep you'd missed."

Merry grimaced. Only complete exhaustion would have allowed her to sleep through it all, but then she supposed she had been pretty exhausted. Her husband had kept her awake most of the night before the journey with the bedding...or beddings. The few hours of light sleep she'd managed to s.n.a.t.c.h in his lap during the afternoon the day before had hardly made up for it, and then she'd stayed awake to watch over him through last night. Aye, Merry supposed, she shouldn't be surprised that she'd slept through the men breaking camp and part of the ride today.

Raising her head, she suddenly asked, "Did Gerhard and the men find out who pushed the boulder down on you?"

Alex was silent so long, she thought he might not answer, but then he said, "Nay. He had the men search the area. It was probably just some bandits who saw me alone and thought I would be easy pickings. Your arrival must have scared them off."

Merry eyed him doubtfully at the suggestion, finding it hard to believe that her presence would scare off anyone. It was possible, though, that they'd thought him alone, and her arrival had made them realize he wasn't, and fear that others were with them and might follow.

"'Tis well past the nooning hour," Alex announced, distracting her from such thoughts. "Are you hungry?"

Merry glanced to him, started to open her mouth to answer, but paused as her stomach emitted a loud rumble at the thought of food. She flushed with embarra.s.sment, but he grinned and retrieved a small bag from his pommel.

"There is food in there for you," Alex said quietly as he gave it to her.

Merry managed not to rip and tear at the cloth bag, but just barely. She hadn't eaten a thing last night as she'd watched over Alex and was terribly hungry. She paused in surprise, however, when she got the bag open and began to remove item after item. There was a bit of bread, cheese, an apple, and even what she at first thought was leftover roasted rabbit from the night before.

"'Tis quail," Alex told her quietly as she unwrapped the cloth around the meat and saw that it was indeed a small, full bird. "I was up before everyone else and caught and cleaned it and then put it over the fire to roast while the men broke camp this morning, thinking you might like it when you woke."

Merry swallowed the lump that had suddenly lodged itself in her throat at his taking such effort for her and then, not knowing what else to do, raised the bird toward him in offer.

Alex shook his head. "'Tis for you. Eat."

Merry hesitated, but then lowered the offering and began to do just that. She couldn't possibly eat everything he'd packed for her, however, and when that became obvious, Alex did accept one of the bird's legs. Once they had both finished and the remains had been once more packed away, Alex began to ask her questions about her childhood again. She answered them willingly enough, but asked questions of her own in return, and the afternoon pa.s.sed surprisingly pleasantly, with their conversation then moving on to other topics. Even as they talked, Merry couldn't help but note to herself that it was a much different journey than the one she'd undertaken to reach England from Stewart. That had been silent, uncomfortable, and grim, with her father and brothers avoiding talking to her, let alone showing any concern for her well-being or comfort. Once again she was forced to acknowledge that Alex was different from the males in her family. Perhaps she had married into a happier situation after all.

Alex's hand suddenly went up and Merry glanced around to see Gerhard urging his horse up beside them. The man had been riding behind them since she'd awakened, his eyes on her husband every time she'd glanced his way. But then Alex had talked a little about his time on crusade that afternoon and told her how the man had saved his life a time or two in Tunis and looked out for him. He obviously looked up to the older man, and it appeared, despite their being back in England, Gerhard, too, still felt the need to look out for him.

"Keep an eye out for a likely spot to camp," Alex said once Gerhard reached them. "We are nearing the border and I would rather spend this last night in England and cross the border tomorrow."

Gerhard nodded. "I shall ride ahead and see what I can find."

The soldier waited just long enough for Alex to nod his approval and then headed off up the lane.

"Gerhard was worried about ye last night," Merry murmured as the other man disappeared around a bend in the path. "He must have come to the tent to check on ye at least twenty times. He even offered to sit with ye so I could rest."

"There was no need for either of you to miss your sleep just to watch me snore the night away," he said gruffly.

"Head wounds are tricky," Merry said firmly. "Someone had to watch over ye."

"Then you should have let Gerhard take half the night, so you both at least had some sleep."

Merry snorted at the suggestion. "Oh, aye. As if I could sleep while worried about ye. Besides, I'd have been lying right there beside ye, and I'd ha'e never managed to sleep with him sitting there watching anyway."

"Aye, and he might have heard you snore, too," Alex said solemnly.

Merry turned a glare on her husband, but it became a reluctant smile when she saw the teasing glint in his eyes. In the next moment, she stifled the smile and said primly, "I hate to be the one to tell ye, me laird, but if ye're trying to be amusin', ye're failing miserably." When he arched an eyebrow at that, she added, "The English are no kenned fer their sense o' humor."

"Is that so?" he asked dryly.

"Aye. Everyone kens the English are all grumpy sods who walk around bemoanin' everything and lookin' like they just buried their brother."

"What?" he asked with disbelief.

Merry shrugged. "Deny it if ye will, but 'tis the truth. The English haven't a clue how to have a good time or enjoy life."

"Ha!" he barked with a laugh. "That sounds more like the Scots to me. They are the ones who are sour-faced, dour, and forever bemoaning. We English are renowned for our sense of humor."

"In yer own minds, mayhap, but then the world kens ye're all mad as well as dour," she said with a sniff, and raised her nose in the air in a superior att.i.tude that was difficult to maintain when his jaw dropped at her sally.

"Why you-" he began, but stopped as Gerhard suddenly appeared on the lane before them.

"I found a spot not far ahead," the soldier said by way of greeting as they reached him. "'Tis along the river and large enough for our party."

"Good." Alex nodded. "Lead on."