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Merry noted the concern on her husband's face and knew the boy must be feeling poorly. She hesitated briefly and then said, "Mayhap I should check on him."
"After you eat," Alex said firmly. "I want you to take care of yourself so that you do not fall ill, too."
Merry nodded and settled to sit beside her husband. Had Una not just finished telling her what the boy had got up to last night, she might have insisted on going to check on him before she ate, but now...Well, frankly, she was a bit uncomfortable and embarrassed for the lad and unsure what she would say to him.
The meal seemed to pass quickly. Once done, she excused herself to go look in on the boy. She was desperately hoping that the lad would be sound asleep and there would be no need for her to take him to task for his reported behavior. She would have to talk to him eventually, but wasn't looking forward to the task and wouldn't mind putting off the chore. However, when she peered into the tarp to find that Godfrey wasn't asleep there, she was more concerned than relieved. Merry turned back to glance toward the men around the fire, and then she stilled and looked back to the wagon as a soft cough sounded behind her. Still the wagon was empty.
Merry was about to turn away again when there was another cough. This time she recognized that the sound came not from the wagon itself, but from under it. She knelt at once, her eyebrows flying up when she saw Godfrey all curled up under the cart, shivering in a thin blanket.
"Godfrey, what are ye doin' under there?" she asked with dismay. "Ye canna sleep on the damp ground, ye'll jest make yerself more ill."
A small grunt emitted from the depth of the blanket, and then Godfrey unbundled enough to peer out at her. Merry saw the shame on his face and felt sympathy slide through her before he'd even spoken. He looked as if he'd got caught doing something terribly naughty and was embarrassed by it.
"I am fine here, my lady," he assured her, and her concern deepened at the sound of his voice. The boy generally had a pleasant voice, but at the moment, it was a bare growl that spoke of a throat so sore he was like to lose the ability to speak altogether soon. "The wagon shall keep the rain off of me and--"
"That willna do, Godfrey," she said solemnly. "Ye must come out o' there and get in the wagon. Ye need to tend to yer cold ere it tends to you."
A moment of silence passed and then Godfrey whispered, "I cannot."
"Ye canna what?" she asked, and then, concern claiming her, crouched to crawl under the wagon with him. Feeling his forehead, she noted the heat pouring off his head and asked, "Are ye too weak to move? Shall I call for one o' the men to--"
"Nay, my lady," he said quickly. "I could not possibly sleep in the wagon tonight. Una would surely kill me in my sleep for my behavior last night."
Merry hesitated, but then, despite already having heard it from Una, asked, "And what did ye do last night?"
"I..." He paused, and even from that distance and in the dimness cast by the shadow of the wagon she saw him swallow unhappily before he gathered himself together enough to say, "I only vaguely recollect it, but I fear I may have tried to force her to..." The words died, and he bowed his head in shame and merely shook his head, unable even to speak the words aloud.
Merry bit her lip at the dejected and self-disgusted air about the boy and then quietly asked, "What were ye thinkin', lad?"
"I was not thinking at all," he admitted on an unhappy sigh. "Else I never would have...Truly, my lady. I do not know what came over me. I just--" He shook his head helplessly and then fell silent, misery plain on his face.
Merry tried to think of something to say to smooth the situation over, but truly, she was at a loss. And then Godfrey suddenly glanced up to say, "Would you tell Una how sorry I am? Truly, I would never have treated her so had I been in my right mind."
Merry hesitated, tempted to take the burden from him, but then said, "I think 'twould be better did you tell her yourself."
Panic immediately wreathed his face, and he shook his head a bit wildly. "She must hate the very sight of me now."
Merry felt her heart melt with sympathy and said, "Nay. She kens ye were ill and will most like accept yer apology."
"Aye, I will," Una said, and they both glanced to the side to see the maid crouched beside the wagon. It seemed obvious she'd been there awhile.
"I saw ye head ower here to talk to the boy and thought I'd best make sure ye were all right," her maid explained. "If the lad was out of his head again and foolish enough to attack ye, the laird would surely break his scrawny neck."
"Una, I am so sorry--" Godfrey began earnestly, but the maid waved him to silence.
"I heard everythin'. And I'll forgive ye this time. Ye may even sleep in the wagon tonight, but ye'd best nay try anything or ye're like to lose that claymore ye keep hidden in yer braies."
Godfrey flushed with embarrassment, and Merry bit her lip to keep from laughing. It was hard to imagine he'd attacked Una as he had when he could not even discuss the act or handle references to his body parts without acting like the embarrassed virgin he probably was. The whole thing was just beyond understanding really. She'd have bet her life that Godfrey was the last male in her husband's ranks who would have attacked a woman. This just didn't make sense. Obviously, Una was of the same mind, else she'd have not been so forgiving.
"Come along," Merry said. "Let us get ye off this damp earth and in the wagon."
"Aye, my lady," he whispered, and unrolled to crawl out from under the wagon, dragging his tattered blanket with him.
Merry bit her lip at the sad state of the article as he straightened next to the wagon and then glanced to Una. Before she could speak, the woman assured her, "There are furs and a couple of blankets in the wagon. He will be fine."
Merry nodded, but then asked, "Are ye sure? Ye could sleep in the tent with Alex and me if ye--"
"Oh, aye, he'd like that," Una interrupted dryly even as Godfrey groaned his mortification. She spared him a glance and then shook her head. "Nay, he seems fine. His eyes are clear and he isna slurring like he was last night."
Merry raised her eyebrows, but before she could comment or ask about the clear-eyed business, she noted Alex moving toward her and narrowed her eyes at the slight stagger to his step.
Una followed her gaze and commented dryly, "Yer husband, on the other hand, doesna look clear-eyed at all. Ye'd best get him to his bed ere he falls over and sleeps where he stands."
Merry's gaze instinctively lifted to Alex's face then and she stilled as she saw that there was something odd about his eyes. It looked more to her as if the blacks of his eyes had grown to take up most of the space, so that the blue was just a thin line around it.
"Husband," she began with concern, but that was as far as she got. The rest of her words were lost in a gasp as he reached her and suddenly scooped her up into his arms. Merry grabbed at his shoulders, afraid she'd be dropped or that they'd fall before she was safely back on the ground. Her husband wasn't exactly steady on his feet at the moment.
Her gaze shifted over his eyes as he walked, and she again found her concern growing as she took in the way the black had overtaken the clear bright blue of his eyes. For the first three weeks of their marriage, Merry had pretty much avoided looking straight at her husband. Instead, she'd mostly watched him out of the corner of her eye, looking for signs of drunkenness; his missing something he reached for, or stumbling in his step. Now she wished she'd looked at his face more, specifically his eyes, so that she would know if this strange dilation of the black centers had ever occurred during the day when he always appeared sober, or if it only coincided with each time he'd appeared drunk to her. It was an important point. Alcohol did not cause this
reaction, and she didn't know of an illness that did, either, but Merry did know that some herbs and tonics could cause it.
Alex bent slightly to carry her into the tent, and suddenly overbalanced and careened forward, stumbling several steps.
Merry groaned and squeezed her eyes closed, sure she was in for it, for she was the one who would hit the ground first with his weight crushing her afterward. However, Alex managed to regain his footing after several steps, and she released a small breath of relief and opened her eyes once more as he carried her to the bed of furs.
Much to her relief, he set her on her feet then. Merry immediately turned to face him. She was eager to find out just how he was feeling and try to sort out what had caused the dark of his eyes to grow and might have brought about the symptoms she until now had thought were signs of drunkenness. But she'd barely opened her mouth to ask her first question when his lips covered hers. She tried to turn her head away, but he would not be denied and his mouth stayed fastened to hers like a leech, his tongue slipping out to anchor it.
Merry raised her hands to his chest to try to end the kiss and ask her questions, but it was like trying to move a mountain. There was absolutely no give under the pressure she exerted, and then she became aware that while he was unmoving, his hands were not. They first cupped her bottom through the skirt of her dress, raising her up to press against the demanding hardness between his legs as he kissed her. Holding her in place with one hand, he then moved the other to first one breast and then the other, squeezing and kneading eagerly through the cloth of her gown. In the next moment, Alex had eased her back to the ground and was tugging at her dress, impatient to remove the obstruction.
Merry found it all rather overwhelming. Almost frightening. His tongue filled her mouth so completely, she feared she might choke on it, and his behavior was more of an all-out attack than the sensual assault she was used to from him.
Apparently frustrated by the trouble her gown was giving him, Alex finally tore his mouth from hers to get a look at the matter, and Merry sucked in some much needed air. She then caught at his hands and gasped, "Husband, please."
