The man exited, closing the door behind him, while Mistress Gillespie placed her satchel on the table.
Mairiana helped him lean over the side of the bed and drink a sip. The fiery liquid scorched his throat worse than usual and his stomach rebelled. He coughed, forcing himself not to gag. Damnation, how he hated for Mairiana to see him like this.
Once he was resting back, the healer tugged at his clothing. "Help me undress him. I must see all of his wounds." She unbuckled his belt and moved his plaid aside.
The whisky on an empty stomach made his head feel like it was spinning. Darack drifted in and out, dreaming of the battle on the ship. When next he became aware, Mairiana was again lifting his head and urging him to drink from the cup. He took a sip, expecting whisky but this was a warm and strong bitter tea.
"What the hell is that?" he rasped.
"A mixture of herbs to help with the pain and prevent fever."
He lay back again, then noticed the upper part of his arm was covered by a clean white bandage. His chest was bare and the healer was applying a poultice to his side. As he glanced further down, he saw that his groin was covered by a sheet.
"Can you drink more?" Mairiana whispered.
He stared up at her, remembering she was a maiden and likely had never seen a naked man before. He hoped she hadn't been shocked by anything she'd seen while he was knocked out. He turned his head aside and drank from the warm cup again.
Once he'd choked down the horrid liquid, he took her hand in his and kissed the back. "I thank you for helping me."
"Of course, husband, why would I not?" she asked.
Husband?The word startled him for a moment. Was his head injury worse than he knew? Had he, in fact, married her and didn't remember it? Or was this still the pretense he'd begun much earlier? Either way, he was all for it.
"Aye, I have the best wife in all the kingdom." He held her hand against his face. Her touch calmed him and made him forget the pain. He drifted down into the darkness of sleep as she stroked his face.
***
Feeling more exhausted than she had in her entire life, Mairiana sat by Darack's bedside, a lone candle lighting the room. It had to be past midnight. The healer had left a few hours ago, saying to send someone if needed. She'd even left her address and said she would return in the morn. After drinking the tea of poppy and various herbs, Darack had slept peacefully. She prayed the poultices along with the tea would help him fight off any fevers and that his wounds would not fester.
She lightly touched his forehead, feeling no fever as of yet. Thank God for that. In fact, most of Darack's chest was uncovered. He had shoved the sheet away earlier and she assumed he must be too warm, which was a good sign. Leaning forward in the chair, she placed her fingers over his.
She had never assisted anyone who was sick before. Her brothers and family had always sheltered her from injuries and disease, and there had always been someone else to care for the ill when she was with her own clan. The MacKerrick clan and the nearby village had four gifted healers.
"You should be asleep," said a deep, raspy voice.
She jumped, her gaze darting to Darack's face. "I didn't ken you were awake."
With dark, drowsy eyes, he observed her. "Aye, why are you?"
"I'm not sleepy."
"Don't tell fibs, lass. You can hardly hold your eyes open." He glanced aside at the covers. "This is a big bed. Come, lie here and sleep. I'll be a gentleman."
His words startled her. "Nay, I cannot. How is your pain? Do you need more tea or whisky?"
"A sip of whisky will do. And take one for yourself, as well."
"Nay, I must be ever alert to assist you."
Once she'd given him the drink, she corked the bottle and set it aside without drinking any herself. Besides, she hated the strong, burning taste of whisky.
"Regardless, you must lie down here." He patted the bed beside him. "No one will see. How long has it been since you slept last?"
She shrugged. "In the kitchen at the tavern in Dundee."
"A long time," he grumbled. "Do you wish me to get up?"
"Of course not!"
