Page 85 of My Notorious Highlander

"In a guest chamber, sleeping. She is worn out from all the travel. And so is Aunt Patience."

Jessie nodded. "Was anyone else injured in the battle on the beach?"

"Most everyone had a few cuts and scrapes, but three of the MacKay guards had some bad wounds. Nannag and her helpers are seeing to them," Keegan said. "How is Chief MacLeod?"

"Sleeping at the moment, and Flora said the bleeding is slowing."

"'Tis good."

Jessie was happy to see Aiden come down the stairs and sit beside Keegan. She was glad he was moving past his withdrawn phase.

Two tall, dark-haired men entered from the bailey, Dirk's friend, Rebbie, and Isobel's brother, Cyrus. Rebbie asked about Torrin, then took the seat beside Dirk as the food was being served.

Jessie quickly ate the roast venison, along with onions, parsnips and oat bread. Although she loved eating with her friends and family, she missed Torrin sitting beside her and wished he was able to eat. Tears burning her eyes, she forced down a few more bites.

Moments later, Flora moved in behind Jessie and whispered in her ear. "Laird MacLeod is asking for you, m'lady."

A shock of icy fear went through her.

"Pray pardon," she told those sitting closest to her, leapt up from her chair and followed Flora.

"Is he worse?" Jessie asked on the way up the steps, her heart pounding in her throat.

"He's in great pain." Flora hastened along the corridor and opened the door to Torrin's chamber.

Jessie entered and rushed to his bedside. "What's wrong?"

"I wish to speak to the lady alone," Torrin told the healer, a fierce frown upon his ashen face.

Flora quickly vacated the room and closed the door.

"I'm sorry you're in such terrible pain," Jessie said, touching his arm. Saints, how she wished she could take away some of his agony.

"Never mind that," he said through clenched teeth, keeping his voice low. He took her hand into his. "You need to marry me now, in case you are with child and I die."

A jolt of alarm went through her. "What? Nay, you are not going to die," she said firmly.

"That remains to be seen." His eyes were dark with pain and more solemn than she could remember.

"Torrin, you must not say that," she said gently, her throat tightening. She stroked her hand along his bristly cheek. "You must get better."

He nodded. "Still, you could be carrying my heir, but only if we wed."

"Nay. You will simply have to recover. I'm not giving you an excuse to die."

His frown only deepened. "Are you mad? I don't want to die."

"Well then, you must grow strong and healthy again, and then… if I conceive…" She was afraid to even finish that sentence.

"Aye?" Torrin lifted his brows. "What?"

"I'll marry you," she whispered.

"You will?" he asked, hope lighting his eyes. "You will marry me?"

"If I am with child."

One side of his lips quirked up a wee bit. "You will be. I ken it."