Breckin shook his head. “Nay, lass, ’tis a warning.”
“A warning for whom?” She was saddened to see the pines burned to their trunks. Blackened limbs rose in the air, seemingly reaching for the sky and the scent of burnt wood had long since dissipated. At least,she couldn’t detect an odor now.
“A warning to whoever tries to cross our borders. We lit the trees on fire to blacken them on purpose to frighten those seeking to provoke us. It is a blunt warning that from that stretch of trees, lies Buchanan land. None cross it without retribution.”
Eva moaned and closed her eyes against the unsightly view of the poor trees. That they hoped to instill fear in people who traveled the land saddened her. Did the Buchanans get along with anyone? Apparently not, and it seemed that they didn’t want to.
She shook and a shiver overtook her body. “Breckin, I’m cold.”
He slowed his horse and removed the tartan he wore around his shoulders, then reached behind him and held it in her direction with a light shake. “Here, put another tartan around ye. ’Tis not long now.” Breckin helped her cover herself and then kissed her head. “Ye are hot. Are ye burning with fever?” He deliberately kept his lips on her forehead and pressed the back of his hand on her face. “Aye, ye are.”
Eva swallowed. She’d thought she might be feverish. With a nod, she moaned. “I need to rest. Wake me when we reach your holding?”
“Aye, lass. Rest against me. We have only a league to go and should reach home soon.”
She closed her eyes and moaned. What she wanted was a warm bed, a heavy blanket, and something warm to soothe her throat. She couldn’t remember the last time she was ill but somehow she had come down with an illness on their trek. Perhaps at court, or perhaps from her foray into Edinburgh. It mattered not. The point was, she was ill.
Eva pressed herself against Breckin, hoping to feel some of his warmth. She kept her eyes closed and drifted to a lethargic slumber.
Chapter Nine
The closer Breckingot to home, the more concerned he was for Eva. She’d fallen asleep and hadn’t awakened for the remainder of the ride. On the approach to the bridge, he passed by his sister’s torch to ensure it had remained lit. Its flame was steady and bright.
The horses’ hooves tromped over the wooden boards of the bridge and instead of riding to the stable which he’d normally do, Breckin continued and headed toward his aunt’s home.
Gideon trotted toward him from down the lane and met him at the entrance of Clare’s cottage. Breckin was about to dismount but with Eva in his hold, it was most difficult so he waited for his comrade to reach him.
“Ye are back. Who is the lass?” His friend scowled in wonder. “Did ye find a wee fairy in the woods on your journey?” Gideon chortled at his jest but ceased when Breckin glared at him.
“She is my wife.”
Gideon bellowed a laugh and pressed his hand over his stomach. “Your wife? Ye jest, Breckin, because I recall ye saying ye wanted no wife. Ye were most adamant about it.”
“I do not jest and that was before…” He closed his eyes briefly and ceased his explanation. “This is Eva, Lady Buchanan to ye,” Breckin finally retorted testily. He wanted no banter from his friend because his utmost concern was getting Eva inside and tended to. “Here, take her for me.”
Gideon stepped forward and accepted Eva from him. He held her in his arms and Eva continued to slumber. She hadn’t woken even with the shift of her body. “Praised be, Breckin, she’s a fair bonny lass. I want to hear how this came about. Married, why ’tis unthinkable. Did ye not profess before ye left that ye had no time for a wife? What caused this miracle?”
Breckin dismounted and took Eva back into his hold. She snuggled against him and set her head on his shoulder. Eased by her acceptance, he sighed. “There is no time for this discussion now. Will ye fetch Willa? My wife ails and needs medicine. She burns with fever.”
Gideon gave a quick nod and sprinted away. Willa, his commander-in-arms’ mother, was a skilled healer but she preferred to stay in her reclusive cottage on the other side of the bridge. His clan rarely called her forth and usually only for dire situations or on their return from war to patch up his soldiers.
Breckin reached the door and entered his aunt’s cottage. It was after the mid-day meal. He’d thought his aunt would be there. She was always at the cottage in the later part of the day. And indeed she was, kneading bread at the table. She looked up as he entered the room and ceased her work.
“Breckin…ye have returned. What, ah, who is that?”
He continued past the kitchen area and reached the bedchamber he used. Awkwardly, he almost dropped Eva when he tried to push the door open. Inside the chamber, he ambled toward the bed and set her gently upon it. Eva still hadn’t awakened. He set his hand on her head and sighed at the heat permeating from her. Heat emanated from her.
Eva moaned as she rousted and blinked her eyes. “Where are we?”
“We are home. Rest easy, lass, and I will fetch ye a cup of water. Ye must be thirsty.” Breckin left the chamber and hurried to the kitchen.
His aunt followed him and mumbled under her breath, “Ye cannot bring your woman here, Breckin. This is a moral household and God fearing. I will not have ye here fornicating with that woman—”
“She is my wife, Clare. Cease pestering me now. I must get her water.” Breckin found a half-filled pitcher on the table. He snatched the cup next to it and retraced his steps back to the chamber. There, he poured a small amount of water for Eva and held it to her mouth. She groaned and took small sips.
“I am sorry…,” she rasped.
“Our healer is on her way here, Eva. She will have ye feeling better in no time.” But Breckin didn’t believe what he’d told her. Concern furrowed his brows and he felt the pull between his eyes. With a long drawn-in breath, he tried to maintain calmness. But his parents had perished from just such a malady when fever ravaged them. Breckin admitted to himself that he didn’t want to lose Eva too, just when they were getting along, and just when he was beginning to accept her.
