Elsa looked disappointed, but before she could say anything else, the innkeeper’s wife took hold of her arm and hustled her out the door. Niall could hear the woman scolding the girl as they went down the hall.

  “Thank ye,” Annie said when the sounds faded away. “That…has never happened to me before.”

  “’Tis good to hear.” Niall couldn’t help smiling. “I had nae given it much thought, but ye do make a rather handsome lad. I will have to make sure we doona stop in any taverns where the wenches are a bit more aggressive.”

  Annie drew her brows down. “Will ye stop teasing me?”

  He sobered. “I am sorry that ye will nae have that hot bath ye wanted. ’Twould look a bit awkward if I ordered one and then left the room while the water was still hot.”

  Annie nodded and then sniffed appreciatively. “I think I care more about hot food than a hot bath at the moment.”

  “I agree.” Niall moved to the table to hold out a chair for her and then winked. “I doona do this for just any lad, mind.” Annie gave him an exasperated look which only made him chuckle as she took the seat.

  She picked up the ladle and spooned stew into the two slightly chipped bowls on the tray while Niall poured ale into tin cups. He sat, lifting his. “A toast.”

  Annie looked surprised as she lifted her cup as well. “To what?”

  He touched his rim to hers. “To a successful escape.”

  “Aye.” Annie took a sip of ale. “I have ye to thank for that. If that mob had caught me—”

  “Doona think on it,” Niall replied and changed the subject. “Let us just enjoy the first real meal we’ve had in two days.”

  She nodded again and they both set to devouring the delicious stew and fresh bread with soft butter. Having a full belly restored his strength and he was almost able to ignore the pain in his thigh as he finished his ale. Even so, it was hard not to wince when he pushed back from the table and stood.

  “I’ll take a short walk while ye wash at the basin.”

  Annie gathered the dishes and put them back on the tray. “Perhaps ye can take this back downstairs?”

  Niall had intended only to linger down the hall and not use the stairs until morning, but he nodded. Annie probably didn’t want Elsa showing up again. “I will.”

  He made his way downstairs and had a tankard of ale in the public room, hoping that would give Annie enough time to freshen up. He had no idea how long she needed. Some women seemed to require hours, but then Annie wasn’t preparing to attend a ball, just go to bed.

  Bed. Niall pushed away the thought of the soft bed upstairs that was large enough for both of them. He hardly relished sleeping on the hard floor, although he had spoken truth when he said he’d had worst. But the last thing Annie needed was to feel threatened by him after they’d narrowly made their escape from the angry horde in Glasgow. Maybe he should have another tankard of ale and when he went upstairs she’d already be asleep.

  No such luck. When he opened the door to their room some twenty minutes later, Annie was sitting up in bed, braced against the headboard, the woolen blanket pulled to her waist. She was still wearing his shirt, but he noticed the breeches were neatly folded over a chair, which meant her legs would be bare under the covers. He bit back a groan. It was going to be a long night.

  “I was wondering what happened to ye,” Annie said.

  Niall shrugged. “I did nae ken how much time ye would need.”

  “Nae much,” Annie replied. “I left ye some fresh water to wash with.”

  “Thank ye.” Niall pulled off his boots and began to unwrap his great plaid. As he did, he noticed that even though Annie had turned her head, she was watching him out of the corner of her eye. He smiled in spite of himself. Would she turn away when he removed his tunic as well?

  He let the tartan drop and reached for the hem of the long shirt. He had it half the way over his head when he heard a rustle and then a thud as Annie’s feet hit the floor. For a moment, he thought she was fleeing the room. He pulled the long shirt back over his head to see her standing there, staring at him. Or rather, his thigh. It took another moment for him to realize she looked horrified, not fascinated. He glanced down and then frowned. Dried blood stained the bandage and the skin around it was an angry-looking red.

  “Sit.” Annie pulled up a chair and practically pushed him into it. Then she started unwrapping the dirty linen to expose the cut. She made a clucking sound. “The wound looks like it has festered.”

  “It has nae festered,” Niall said. “’Tis just nae closed yet.”

  Annie gave him a look as though he were a half-wit. Which maybe he was since the sight of her bare legs was making it impossible for him to think clearly. “The doctor in Crianlarich can tend it tomorrow.”

  “If the infection spreads…” She didn’t finish the sentence but hurried to the saddlebag, burrowing through it like a squirrel for his flask and the rest of the shirt she’d torn apart the night before. “I doona ken why ye did nae tell me of this condition earlier,” she fussed as she poured whisky into the wound and then started wrapping a clean bandage around his leg. “Stubborn man.”

  Niall clenched his jaw at the sting of the liquor, then forced a smile. “I did nae ken ye wanted to see my thigh.”

  Annie gave him another infuriated look, although she blushed a little. He glanced down to where her hands still rested on his leg. The softness of her touch so close to his manhood made his cock stir with interest under his tunic. He shifted to squelch the movement, but it was too late. Annie’s face flamed. She whisked her hands away as though she’d just touched hot iron. Which was rather the way his shaft was feeling.

  “If ye will hand me one of the blankets, I will just settle in here by the fire,” he said.

  Annie shook her head. “Ye are nae lying on a hard floor in that condition.”

  Niall felt his eyes widen before he realized she was talking about the condition of his leg and not his cock. “’Tis only one bed, lass. I will nae have ye sleeping on the floor.”

  If possible, her face turned redder. “I ken that.”

  Niall paused. “Ye would share the bed with me?”

  She looked over his shoulder at the wall and then nodded. “I trust ye will nae take advantage of the situation.”

  He pressed his hand down—hard—on his groin. “Ye doona have to fash about that. I am so tired I will be asleep before my head touches the pillow.”

  That seemed to reassure her, although Niall doubted he’d get any sleep at all. He watched as she sat down on the edge of the bed to swing her lovely, bare legs under the covers and then scoot toward the wall until she was backed up against it.

  Snuffing out the candle, Niall lay down on the edge of the mattress, trying his best to ignore where their bodies made contact in the narrow bed. He put his arms under his head and stared into the darkness. It was going to be a long night.

  The floor might have been a better choice, after all.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Annie pulled the covers closer, wondering why it suddenly felt so cold. Sleepily, she opened one eye. Dawn was breaking and Niall was pouring water into the basin on the dresser.

  That explained the sudden coolness. His body heat had kept her warm and snug as they shared the bed. She half-closed her eyes, still not quite fully awake, rather liking the scent Niall had left on the pillow…and the fact that, except for his small clothes, Niall stood naked as he washed.

  He certainly was well-made. She’d known his shoulders were broad, but seeing them bare and the broad expanse of muscles flexing across his back as he moved his arms was sheer beauty. His back tapered to a narrow waist and tight buttocks beneath the linen cloth he wore. She already knew how well-muscled his thighs were…

  Niall glanced over his shoulder toward her. “Are ye awake?”

  Dear Lord. Annie pinched her eyes shut. Had he sensed her gawking at him? Or worse, seen her looking? She wanted to pull the covers over her head, but she forced her eyes open.

  “Aye. ’Tis barely morn though.”

  “I would like to get an early start.”

  As the grogginess left her brain, she realized that was probably a good idea. She had no desire to encounter Elsa—or any other maids who thought she was a handsome lad. If her disguise was uncovered, she would be truly ruined since she had spent the night with a man. Equally bad, should someone still be following them, they could be more easily identified.

  Annie swung her legs over the edge of the bed and shivered. The fire had died down and the room was chilly. Niall didn’t seem affected as he took a towel and began drying himself. She tried not to stare at his expansive chest with its dark dusting of hair that trailed a fine line down his flat, hard belly to disappear into the loin cloth that hung low on his hips. She forced herself to avert her eyes and then remembered his bandage.

  “How is your leg?” she asked as she got out of bed and pulled on the breeches she’d left folded over a chair.

  Niall pulled his tunic over his head. “’Tis fine.”

  “Have ye looked at it?”

  “Nae.”

  Annie shook her head. “Then how can ye say ’tis fine? Perhaps we should check it.”

  “Nae,” he said again, putting more emphasis on the word as he wrapped his plaid around his waist. “’Tis fine.”

  From his tone, it didn’t sound as if his leg was fine, but Annie wasn’t sure if Niall was hiding pain or if he just didn’t want her touching his thigh again. And perhaps he had the right of it. She’d seen the reaction of his manhood last night when she’d wrapped the bandage. She knew that when a man hardened, it became painful. At least, that was what Broderick had told her, along with the fact that if a woman teased a man, she was responsible for that aroused state. Niall had not touched her last night, but she didn’t want to cause him any more discomfort.

  “We will have the doctor at Crianlarich look at it, then. ’Tis nae far, is it?”

  “A little less than an hour,” Niall replied. “’Tis another reason I want to leave early. Taking time to stitch the wound will already delay us.”

  “It needs to be done.” Annie eyed him suspiciously. “Ye are nae thinking of skipping the visit, are ye?”

  Niall grimaced as he pulled on his boots. “Nae. I will admit that it hurts like the devil has placed a hot anvil on it.”

  Annie bit her lip. For Niall to admit that the wound hurt was amazing in itself, but that it felt that bad was disconcerting. Even though he’d claimed last night the injury was not festering, she was pretty sure it was. The sooner the leg was properly cleaned and stitched, the better.

  “It will take me only a minute or two more to be ready.”

  Niall nodded as he went to the door. “I’ll get the horses saddled and see if I can get some bread and cheese to break our fast.”

  Annie hurried with her ablutions after Niall left, then stuffed what remained of the shirt they’d been using for bandages into the saddlebag. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be needing it anymore once the doctor got the wound closed and a proper wrapping put on. She pinned her hair up and pulled her cap down low, making sure no red showed, and then went downstairs.

  Niall sat on the bench by the door waiting for her, beside him a small sack which probably contained their food. He winced slightly as he stood, and Annie noticed, for the first time, that he favored his injured leg as they walked outside to the horses. And, also for the first time, instead of vaulting onto the gelding’s back, Niall led the animal to a mounting block. Annie frowned. Niall would never do such a thing unless he was in dire pain.

  Thankfully, the doctor wasn’t that far away.

  ****

  “What do ye mean, the doctor is nae here?” Annie stared at the middle-aged woman who’d opened the door to the doctor’s cottage. “We saw the shingle out front. Is this nae the right house?”

  “’Tis. I am his wife.” The woman pulled her woolen wrapper closer to avoid the morning chill. “He is nae here.”

  “When do ye expect him back?” Niall asked, his lips white at the corners.

  The woman shook her head. “I doona ken. ’Tis an outbreak of typhus at Killin, northeast of here. My husband left two days ago to tend to it.”

  Annie heard Niall stifle a groan and felt like she’d just swallowed lead. What were they going to do now? The physician probably wouldn’t be back for several days. Even if he came back earlier, would he be carrying the disease? Typhus was highly contagious. News of an epidemic in Ireland just last year had travelled to Glasgow. Another epidemic had occurred in London’s Newgate prison just this year and spread to the city. A travelling cooper had brought the news. In addition to fever—which Niall probably already had—the disease caused delirium and coma. Annie’s mother had burned the bed sheets the man had used and scrubbed every inch of the room with lye soap after he’d left.

  “Do ye have any clean bandages that we can have?” Annie asked. “And maybe a salve?”

  The woman looked at her suspiciously. “Just what is wrong with ye?”

  “’Tis nae me—”

  “My wife is making much ado over a slight scratch I received with a ruffian who insulted her yesterday,” Niall said quickly, “but I would appreciate a clean bandage if ye have it. I have coin, of course.”

  The woman opened the door wider. “Come in, then.”

  She left them to sit on a wood bench just inside the door while she went to get the supplies. Annie turned to him as soon as she disappeared. “I am your wife now?”

  “’Tis better that she think us married, lass.”

  Annie frowned. “I thought I was supposed to be a lad.”

  “That would have been better.” Niall looked at her cap. “But half your hair is down.”

  Annie’s hands went up and found the offending tresses. “Bloody hell!”

  Niall managed a smile. “Ye are acquiring quite a vocabulary.” Then he put out a hand to stop her from pushing the hair back under the cap. “Leave it be for now. We doona wish to raise any questions.”

  “I’m sure the woman already has some,” Annie replied, “or do women in the country often wear breeches?”

  “’Tis nae unheard of,” Niall said. “The doctor’s wife already saw we had two horses. ’Tis easier to ride astride in breeches. The farther ye go into the Highlands, the more what is practical applies.”

  “Ye doona think she will wonder though?”

  “She might.” Niall shrugged. “What would make her more suspicious is for you to have your hair tucked back up and looking like a lad when she comes back with the bandaging.”

  A young girl of perhaps three-and-ten appeared in the hall. “My mother bids ye come with me.”

  “Where are we going?” Annie asked.

  The girl gave her a look as though she were daft. “To my da’s office so my mother can tend the wound.”

  Niall shook his head. “’Tis nae necessary—”

  “Aye, ’tis,” Annie hissed at him. “Ye did nae let me check this morning for festering.”

  He sighed and stood. Annie noticed his limp was worse as they followed the girl down the short hall to a room toward the back of the house.

  He was shown a seat and the girl shooed from the room by her mother before she turned back to him. “Where is this wound?”

  “My thigh.” Niall folded back his plaid to reveal the bandage and then held out his hand. “I can do this myself.”

  “Aye. Men always think they can take care of themselves.” The doctor’s wife swatted his hand as she started unwrapping the old bandage. “Which usually just makes more work for the woman.” She tsked as the linen came undone. “By all the saints! This is nae a scratch. And ’tis infected.”

  “I kenned it!” Annie said and came closer, then stifled a gasp. The wound was now a deep, ugly red with purple mottling around the edges, and Niall’s leg had swelled as well. “God’s teeth!”

  “Aye. ’Tis bad,” the doctor’s wife said. “I can put some moldy bread on it to keep the infection down, but ye should stay here and let me send someone for my husband.”

  “How long would that take?” Annie asked.

  “He could probably be here by tomorrow afternoon, if he can get away.”

  “If he can get away?”

  The woman looked uncertain. “Usually when he travels to an outbreak, he waits a few days to return home to make sure he doesn’t bring the disease with him.”

  “That makes sense,” Niall said, “but ’tis better we travel on and find a physician in another town.”

  “The nearest would be Fort William,” she answered, “but ’tis a two-day ride. Three or maybe more, in your condition.”

  Niall grimaced. “’Tis a better choice than waiting for your husband to return home.”

  “Ye do have a point. I will do what I can with a poultice and clean bandage.”

  After the doctor’s wife left to retrieve the bread from the kitchen, Annie gave Niall a worried look. “Two days or more to Fort William? And how far from there to Arisaig?”

  Niall shrugged. “Probably another two days.”

  “Ye can nae ride for four days wounded! I think ye should stay here,” Annie said. “I can go with whoever is sent to Killin. I will persuade the doctor to come back one way or another.”

  “I have nae doubt that ye would.” Niall tried to smile. “But ye heard what his wife said. We cannae risk spreading the typhus. ’Tis too deadly.”

  “People die from infected wounds, too,” Annie said. “Ye can nae ride for four days with that festering.”

  “Ye are probably right.”

  “Good.” Annie gave a relieved sigh. “Then we will stay here.”

  “Nae.”

  Annie stared at him. “What do ye mean, nae? Has the fever taken hold of ye?”

  Niall shook his head. “We will cross to Oban. We can get there by nightfall.”

  “And then what?”

  “We catch a boat north on Loch Linnhe.”

  Annie frowned. “That is nae going to get us to Arisaig.”

  “True. But it will get us close to Loch Shiel,” Niall answered. “Bridget’s brother Ian MacLeod has a holding there.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27