“Water,” she said in a cracked voice as she tried to sit up and look around her, clearly puzzled as to her whereabouts.
Hamish leapt out of his chair and poured some water from a pitcher into a mug for her, then sat on the cot beside Amanda and lifted it to her lips. She drank it in great gulps, it seemed she was incredibly thirsty.
“You have a fever, Amanda,” Hamish said gently, looking down into her glazed eyes. Remembering what she had said earlier and how she had treated Jimmy’s fever, he tucked a piece of willow bark under her tongue and said, “Chew this. It will make you feel better.”
However, contrary to his expectations, Amanda’s body began to tremble and shudder even harder.
“You will be fine,” he said, trying to reassure both of them, praying he was telling the truth.
He was not a healer, and was deeply unsure of whether he was doing the right thing, but he had copied Amanda, so surely he must be right?
When she had finished chewing the willow bark, Hamish climbed into the cot with her. It was a tight squeeze, but not as bad as he had imagined, since she was so small, so vulnerable.He felt a strange feeling of rightness, as if this was exactly where he was meant to be.
Hamish wrapped his arms around Amanda, pulling her close. A great feeling of protectiveness arose within him, and he realised that he could not possibly let her go until she was better. He rubbed her back gently and heard her sigh with satisfaction, then gradually she relaxed.
“You will get through this, Amanda,” he assured her. “I will help you until you are better.”
Hamish kissed her forehead. “Goodnight, my sweet,” he whispered.
He was too exhausted to wonder why he had expressed himself so dearly, and just closed his eyes, letting sleep take him.
Amanda opened her eyes to bright daylight and a feeling that she had been wrapped in a covering of warmth and softness. She lay revelling in it for a long time, drowsy and content, before she felt movement behind her, and realised that a muscular arm was draped around her waist.
“Good morning, lass,” said a deep voice behind her.
Amanda felt a thrill of shock go through her as she realised that she was not alone in the bed. With some difficulty, she turned over in the narrow cot and looked into green eyes—Hamish’s eyes—as he looked at her with careful scrutiny. For a few seconds, she was lost for words.
“What am I doing here? Is this your bed?”
“Yes,” he replied. “You were freezing, and you had developed a fever. I had no idea what else to do, so I brought you here.”
Amanda stared at him—what had he done to her while she was lying helpless in his bed? Had he taken liberties with her?Suddenly, she was terrified and tried to rise from the cot, but she was held back so firmly that she could not move. She began to struggle, but Hamish was unyielding.
“Let me go!” she cried, “I do not want to be here! What have you been doing while I was asleep?”
“Wait,” he said softly, loosening his hold a little. “Lass, I did nothing apart from keeping you warm. You were soaked and freezing, and I took your wet dress off and put you here in my bed, but I never touched you in any way that was inappropriate. I swear on my honour as a man and a Laird. I cannot make you believe me, but it’s true.”
He let her go suddenly, then shifted backwards on the bed. To Amanda’s surprise, she did believe him. After the initial shock of finding herself in a man’s bed, her rational thinking took over.
They stared at each other for a long time, his eyes did not flicker away from hers once, and eventually, she dropped her gaze from his. Despite what she had thought of him at first, he was a man of integrity, and she knew that he would not have done anything to dishonour her.
She nodded slowly. “Your word is enough,” she said, then looked down at herself. She was still decently covered, but only in her chemise, and her dress was lying on the ground, still wet and absolutely filthy.
Hamish followed her gaze. “I will get you something to wear,” he said. He got up, took his cloak from where he had left it and handed it to her. “Use this in the meantime,” he said, then turned and walked out.
Amanda slowly rose from the bed and wrapped the cloak around her. It had been hung up on a peg, and was cold from the morning air, and although she could smell his manly scent on it, she felt suddenly bereft of the warmth of his body. She relived the moment when she had woken up, comfortable and safe in hisarms, and sighed in self-reproach. He had been so kind to her, and she had not only been ungrateful, but she had accused him of something reprehensible.
She went over to the bucket of water standing by the wall of the tent. She looked at him hesitantly.
“May I?” she said, nodding to the bucket.
He simply nodded, and she went ahead and rinsed her mouth out, since the bitter taste of willow bark still lingered inside it. She washed her face and dried it on Hamish’s cloak, then sat on the bed to wait for him, covering her face with her hands.
Amanda desperately wanted to weep, but knew that once she started she would likely be unable to stop, so she screwed her eyes up and tried to think about happy things.
She wondered how baby Barbara, Rose’s daughter, was faring now that she was all of six months old and probably crawling. She knew that Rose and her husband, Cormac, were very loving parents who adored their daughter.
Her other sister Claire, who had married Laird Iain Ross, was due to give birth soon, and it broke Amanda’s heart to think that she might never meet the baby. She could even have helped with the delivery.
