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Alex was about to ask why she looked so weary when a rustle drew his gaze past her to see that they were in his travel tent. He didn't normally bother with it when he traveled on his own, but had decided to bring it to make the trip more bearable for his wife. That thought spurred his memory, making him recall the journey that day, taking Merry to the waterfall, and all that had followed. Including the boulder crashing down toward him.
"How diya feel?" Merry repeated. He was a tad surprised to hear the amount of concern in her voice. While they had got along relatively well since consummating the wedding last night, the three weeks before that had been somewhat difficult, and he wouldn't have been surprised had she treated him more cavalierly instead of sounding like she cared.
"My head hurts," he said honestly and then asked, "What time is it?"
"Near dawn, I think," Merry answered, her gaze moving to the open tent flap and the grey light of predawn visible outside. She then suddenly turned away to pick up something. When she turned back he saw that it was a mug of liquid. She slipped an arm beneath his head and used it to help lever him up and then held the mug to his lips, promising, "'Twill help with yer poundin' head."
Alex hesitated, but then opened his mouth to allow some of the brew to slip inside. A grimace immediately tried to claim his lips, and he had a very strong urge to push the drink away, but he resisted and drank as much as he could before his stomach threatened to rebel. He then raised a hand to let her know it was enough, relieved when she immediately removed the mug and eased him back to lie down.
Alex did grimace now, his lips working and tongue rubbing itself against his teeth and palate in an effort to scrub away the awful taste coating it.
"'Tis vile, I ken, but 'twill help," Merry said sympathetically.
Alex merely nodded and closed his eyes, waiting for the pounding in his head to ease. If Merry's medicinal was anything like Bet's, Alex knew it should begin to work after a quarter hour or so. And it certainly tasted as vile as Bet's so should work, he thought with disgust, and wondered why things that were said to be good for you always tasted so horrible.
The moments passed slowly for Alex. He had several questions he'd have liked to ask, but his mind was taken up with the pain consuming him and he kept his mouth shut. A long time seemed to pass before he became aware that Merry was running her fingers soothingly over the uninjured side of his brow. When he noticed that, Alex knew the brew was starting to work. He blinked his eyes cautiously open then, relieved when the pain didn't ratchet back up, and then released a small breath and closed them for another few minutes. When he began to be aware of a need to relieve himself, however, he decided it was time to get up.
"What are ye doin'?" Merry asked with dismay when he started to sit up. "Lie back down, ye've had an awful blow to the head and been unconscious all night. Ye need to lie still and let yer body recover."
"As you just said, I have been unconscious all night. 'Tis plenty of recovery time. Now I need to get up and about," he said firmly.
"Ye've no business being up and about," she snapped, placing her hands on his shoulders and pushing in an effort to force him back into a supine position. Much to his amazement, the action worked, and Alex found himself collapsing back onto the linens and furs he lay on. The fact that he was so weak, however, merely made him more determined to get up, and he immediately started trying to rise again. His wife merely kept her hands on his chest, holding him in place. Disgusted by his own weakness, he admitted, "I need to relieve myself."
"Oh." She bit her lip and glanced around, and then brightened and peered down at the mug in her hand. "Mayhap ye could--"
"Do not even suggest it," Alex said grimly, positive she was going to say he should relieve himself into the mug rather than get up. He might be weak, but it would be a cold day in hell before he would willingly do something like that.
Merry set the mug aside, then scowled at him and bit out impatiently, "Verra well, I'll ha'e to help ye then."
She sounded incredibly testy. Considering that he was the one whose head was still pounding, Alex thought that wasn't well done of her, but then he once again noted the circles under her eyes and the pallor to her face and thought perhaps she had every right to testiness after all. He was suddenly sure she hadn't slept at all, but had sat up all night watching over him like a mother hen watching her chicks.
Alex wasn't sure how to feel about that. One part of him was grateful and glad she cared enough to bother, and the other was annoyed and thought she should have slept and taken care of herself. He started to shake his head at his contrary thoughts, but caught himself at the last moment and saved himself the pain.
"Come, let me help ye," Merry murmured.
Alex considered refusing her offer of help, but the moment he was sitting upright the tent showed a terrible tendency to spin, and so he gave in gracefully and accepted her assistance. Once upright, he'd hoped he could manage on his own, but that also proved not to be the case and he had to let her help him out of the tent.
"Where to?" she asked in a whisper as they staggered outside. Both of them had been forced to hunch over to get through the low opening the tent flap offered, and the action nearly saw them crashing to the ground. Certainly, Alex would have, had Merry not quickly bent herself forward and turned so that he fell across her back when he started to stumble.
Shaking his head at the state he was in, Alex used her back to push himself upright again, and then suffered her to slip under his arm to support him once more.
"Behind the tent is far enough," Alex muttered, eager to get this done and get back inside the tent where he at least did not need aid to lie down. Truthfully, falling down was probably the thing he was best at, at the moment, Alex acknowledged unhappily. Certainly, his mind didn't seem to be up to much in the way of thinking. Here he was, staggering around, unable to even walk upright, yet one glance down toward his wife found his eyes landing on her generous cleavage, and he was suddenly aware that little Alex, too, was awake, with his head half raised and pushing against the front of his braies.
Dear God, what the devil was the matter with him? Alex wondered with self-disgust. Wanting his wife was one thing, but this was just ridiculous. Abnormal, even, he was sure. His head hurt less than it had, but it was still pounding something awful. He was also weak as a babe and should have absolutely no interest in anything of the like. In fact, his mind didn't...but his body did.
"How is this?"
Alex tore his thoughts from his body's ridiculous wants and glanced around to see that while he'd been busy thinking, his wife had managed to steer him around the tent to a small copse of bushes behind it.
"This will do. I can--What the devil are you doing?" he gasped with dismay as she immediately began to work at the tie of his braies. Alex tried to push her hands away, but weak as he was, the effort wasn't very successful.
"I'm merely tryin' to help ye," she said dryly. "Trust me, me laird, I'm too weary to ha'e anything else in mind and ken ye're in no shape to--Oh." Merry paused as she managed to get his braies untied and his now almost full-blown erection sprang out into evidence. "Well, that is--Mayhap ye're feeling better than I gave ye credit fer," she muttered.
"I can manage the rest on my own," Alex growled, embarrassed and frustrated all in the same moment. Truly, his head was pounding, his shoulder throbbing, and despite the hours he'd been unconscious he thought he could sleep standing up at that moment, and yet, little Alex was waving in the night air like a flagpole eager to raise a banner. "Just go back to the tent. I shall return once I have finished."
Merry hesitated, but then slipped out from under his arm, waited just long enough to be sure he wasn't going to fall on his face, and moved away with a slight rustle.
Relieved that he no longer had a witness to this humiliation, Alex quickly relieved himself. It was only then he realized his wife had not obeyed and returne
d to the tent as he'd ordered. He'd tucked himself away and was struggling to retie his braies when Merry was suddenly there doing it for him.
"I can manage on my own, thank you, wife," he snapped.
Merry ignored him long enough to finish tying the laces and then straightened and eyed him solemnly before saying, "Ye need to accept aid and advice from others, husband. Everyone needs assistance at one time or another."
Alex stared at her, a slow smile curving his lips, and then he gave a slight bow. "Touche."
He thought he caught a glimpse of a quick smile claiming her lips, but it was dark out, and Merry ducked her head quickly as she repositioned herself under his arm and then they were moving back toward the tent. By the time they got back inside Alex was more than grateful for her assistance. He never would have made it on his own. His legs were shaking like a plucked harp string.
The moment they reached the fur, he collapsed on it with relief. Alex was so exhausted he didn't even protest when Merry settled herself beside him and raised him up to press the mug of her vile liquid to his lips, but merely gulped it down until it was gone. When she then laid him back on the furs, he closed his eyes and went right to sleep.
chapter Eight
Merry woke to the rhythmic rock of the horse, found herself in her husband's arms, and at first thought it was still the first day of their journey. At least until she glanced up, spotted the bruise and cut on his forehead, and recalled all that had happened. Merry immediately sat up and turned an accusing glare on her husband.
"What are ye doing up?"
"Riding," Alex answered reasonably enough, but she didn't miss the twitch of his lips and knew he was amused. That just made her angrier.
"Ye've no business being up and about after the trial ye went through yesterday."
This time he didn't bother hiding his amusement, but smiled at her in a way that seemed almost affectionate and said, "You are adorable when you act the shrew, Merry Stewart."
"Merry d'Aumesbery now," she reminded him, putting a little more snap in her voice. She then warned, "And I am a shrew, and as such, like to make ye miserable do ye no' explain--"
