Bridget felt Jillian’s forehead. “She’s burning with fever.”
“’Tis no wonder. Lyin’ out in the cold all night. She’s caught a chill.”
“More than that, I think,” Shane said as he lifted Jillian’s hand. “’Tis infected.”
“Aye.” Bridget agreed as she began bathing the dirt off Jillian’s face. “Shauna, go fetch Brodie’s whisky. We need to cleanse the wound.”
“Have the cook mash some garlic as well,” Shane added. “’Twill help with the infection.”
“I will do it,” Fiona said as she hurried off after Shauna.
“And we will thank ye to get yerself hence,” Mrs. Ferguson said to Shane, but she smiled to soften the words. “We need to remove the lady’s clothes.”
Once Shane had gone, the housekeeper made short work of removing the filthy clothing. “Och!” she exclaimed as she saw the bruises running along Jillian’s ribs. “’Tis a wonder if nothing is broken.”
“Do you think she will lose the bairn?” Bridget asked worriedly.
The housekeeper placed a hand on Jillian’s abdomen. “I canna feel any movement.”
Bridget bit back a reply as Jillian slowly opened her eyes. They were bright with fever, but the pupils weren’t dilated. She grimaced as she tried to speak.
“Shhh. Ye rest,” Mrs. Ferguson said and looked at Bridget who shook her head slightly. “Ye had a bad bump to yer head.”
“The bairn…is he all right?” Jillian asked.
Mrs. Ferguson looked at Bridget again. “’Tis too soon to tell, child. Ye need to rest.”
Jillian closed her eyes then opened them again. “Who found me?”
“Shane did,” Bridget answered. “He came home this morning.”
“Thank God. Tell Shane—”
“Do nae strain yerself talking,” Mrs. Ferguson said again.
“I have to tell Shane something. Brodie too.”
“It can wait,” Bridget said as Shauna and Fiona returned bringing the whisky and garlic. Bridget insisted Jillian take a healthy swig before she helped Mrs. Ferguson cleanse the festering wound with some of the liquor and pack it with garlic. She poured another dram and handed it to Jillian. “This will make ye sleep.”
“But I have to tell—”
“Not now,” Bridget said and turned to her sister. “Shauna. I want ye and Fiona to take turns sitting with Jillian. Keep dabbing her with a cool cloth. I must find Shane.”
The sisters both nodded as Mrs. Ferguson instructed the maids to tidy up. Bridget hurried off.
She found Shane in the dining hall with Duncan and Broc.
“How is she?” Shane asked.
“Time will tell,” Bridget answered. “I dinnae think she has a concussion, but the infection is bad, and I dinnae ken if the bairn lives.”
“I have already sent to Glenfinnan for the physician,” Shane said.
“Thank ye. Where did ye find her?”
“In a ravine near the cairn. I have nae idea why she would wander there.”
Duncan and Broc exchanged a look, but neither said anything.
