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Chapter Eighteen
She knew she needed to remain strong. She ran to his side. Liam stood at the doorway for a moment, watching the scene before him. Then he left quietly, closing the door behind him. Charlotte watched as Angus writhed before her, sweat on his bare chest and face. His face was taut with pain. She could tell he wasn’t aware of where he was or what he was doing. She placed a hand on his head and felt the burning heat. Her stomach tightened with fear. If she didn’t act now, she would lose Angus.
Tears pricked painfully at her eyes. Having laid her eyes upon him once again, and compounded by the fact that he was close to death, she knew. Her heart had swelled in compassion and desire for him. She loved Angus MacLean. She cared whether he lived or died. She wanted to make him happy. It mattered to her deeply, and she knew that if he got well again, she would have to tell him. She didn’t know if he felt the same way about her, but she had to try, even if it could never be.
Angus called out her name suddenly and opened his eyes for a brief moment. He began to speak, and Charlotte placed her fingers lightly on his lips. It was an impulse to make an intimate gesture. She felt the soft skin of his lips and lingered for a moment. Then she said, “Be still, Angus. Sleep. I am here.” And with her words, it was as if a spell had been cast over his body. He stopped straining. Blood returned to the knuckles that had been white from gripping the sheets, and the skin of his face smoothed as he sighed into sleep.
Charlotte leaned back in the chair by the bed, watching in wonder at what had happened. She quickly checked his pulse to make sure that it wasn’t that he’d slipped out of life, but it was still there. Faint, but it was moving at a good pace. She sighed. It was like her arrival had done something to him. He had tried to speak to her through his stupor. What had he wanted to say?
She watched him earnestly, waiting for Mrs. MacLean to bring what she needed. Even in a feverish state, Angus was still the most handsome man she had ever seen. She watched his strong chest rise and fall as he slept peacefully. On impulse, she moved closer and touched her hand to his. He didn’t wake, so she got bolder and moved her own hand inside, savoring the feel of his skin on hers.
She was interrupted in her quiet moment of pleasure by the arrival of Mrs. MacLean and Elizabeth, their arms full. Mrs. MacLean hadn’t seen anything, but she noticed Elizabeth smile a little at the sight of Charlotte’s hand in Angus’ before she hurriedly took it out. They set everything down on a table nearby, and Charlotte took up a cloth to place in the cold water. “Thank you, Mrs. MacLean and Elizabeth. I will see if this cold compress can’t bring down the fever. She moved to the bed and gingerly placed the cloth on his head so as not to wake him. Mrs. MacLean moved to Angus’ side, and her mouth dropped open in surprise and joy.
“Mistress! Look at what a change ye’ve wrought on him already! He sleeps! And peacefully!”
Charlotte smiled. “Yes, I was surprised as well. He tried to speak to me, but I simply told him to sleep, and he did so. I am very pleased with this turn of events. So, we will not wake him right now to try to give him the boiled herbs.”
Mrs. MacLean nodded, and Elizabeth said, “Tractable man. Listens to you when you command him.”
Charlotte blushed a little but chuckled. “Well, you must meet him when he awakes. I do not think you will say so after that. He will surely be back to his old, blustering self, commanding others to do his bidding.” She looked back on Angus with affection.
Mrs. MacLean added, “Nae, lass. Ye could tell that man anything, and he would do it. He may gripe and bluster like an angry goat, but he wouldnae go against something if ye wished it.”
“Do you mean anyone could tell him or Charlotte could tell him?” Elizabeth asked, a devilish grin on her face.
“The Mistress, I mean,” Mrs. MacLean replied with a smirk.
Charlotte thought back to when she’d asked him to keep the secret about the near-rape from Calum and Julia. He had done so as far as she knew. He had griped, just as Mrs. MacLean said, but he had followed her instructions.
Mrs. MacLean laid a soft hand on Charlotte’s arm. “I hope ye will nae think me impertinent, Mistress, but I know the lad cares for ye. I have seen him grow up in this castle. Nae woman has turned his head as ye have done. He was a broken mess after ye left, sulking and rude tae everyone. ‘Tis nae like him tae act such. I just hope that he will pull through so that he has a chance tae tell ye himself.”
Charlotte watched the older woman’s face in surprise. She was not offended, far from it. She swallowed, trying to keep back the tears of happiness if this was true. “I don’t know, Mrs. MacLean, but I do think he will pull through to see another day. But I can’t imagine Angus MacLean spewing out words of love.”
Mrs. MacLean’s eyes crinkled in merriment at Charlotte’s joke. “Nae, yer right. So, ye will have tae watch for it closely. He will show ye in what he does. Men like that always do. They think they are strong enough tae hide their feelings, but we women can find them out.”
Mrs. MacLean took her leave, patting Angus’ arm lightly before leaving. “Oh, Mrs. MacLean? I think he should eat some of the foods that have been given to the villagers as well. Would you be able to get some of them prepared for when he awakes?”
“Of course, my dear. We shall wait for a few hours.”
Mrs. MacLean left, and Elizabeth and Charlotte were alone with a soundly sleeping Angus. Elizabeth found a nearby chair and sat, sighing with satisfaction. “So, it appears that I was right, Charlotte. You do love him. I can see it all over your face. You’re practically glowing.”
Charlotte looked down at Angus with affection. “I fear you’re right, Elizabeth.” But then her expression turned grim. “But it can never be. For I would never be allowed to marry a Scottish man, and we do not know how he feels, of course.”
Elizabeth reached across and took hold of Charlotte’s hand. “Certainly, your father would understand if you both love each other. And he is a wealthy landowner’s brother. You would not be paupers.”
Charlotte looked down. “I know, but my father told me that your father was helping him find me a match, and they have found one already. I should be married within a few weeks if they get their way.”
* * *
Mortimer Darling had ridden hard that morning and was soon to arrive at Campbell Castle. He had never met any of them in person, but he had sent word of his arrival, and he hoped that they would be amenable to speak with him. He had not found out who had been on trial for the death of his brother, for General Andrews had destroyed the records, thinking it unnecessary to keep the information.
The general hadn’t shared who the culprit had been or any reason why his brother had left, not that Mortimer had asked him directly. He needed to go about these matters delicately. Everyone else had put the matter behind them, and it would seem strange if he began asking questions.
He was certain that it was a MacLean man. He had heard from some of the men that there had been a little unpleasantness a few months before at Duart Castle, something to do with the General’s niece. And that was where his brother, General George Whitehead, had died. Of that, he was certain.
His horse slowed as he neared the entrance to the large castle. It had been a few hours ride, but it was worth it. He would find out everything he needed to know. He jumped down and straightened his coat, keeping his shoulders straight. One of the clan guards came to him and said, “Aye, Sir, what is yer business here?”
Mortimer used his coldest voice. “I wish tae meet with yer laird, Archibald Campbell. Please alert him of my arrival.”
