Page 38 of When a Highlander Loses His Heart
“Leave it be, Isobel. Graham would nae wish for yer concern.”
It felt as if Rory Mac had slapped her. Of course Graham would not want her concern, as he had none for her. “Aye,” she murmured. “I forgot I’m a pawn to be used and nothing more.”
“’Tis good to ken yer place,” he said sourly.
“Please take me to my room,” she said, her hurt now overriding her fear. The overwhelming urge to cry tightened her throat, and she refused to do so where any of the MacLeods would see her. Within seconds, Rory Mac led her silently inside the castle.
Dunvegan took her breath. The castle was magnificent. Beautiful tapestries hung from the walls, and fresh flowers adorned tables set about the main entrance. Fresh rushes filled the castle with a pleasant piney scent, and as they passed the great hall, she could see that gleaming weapons were hung on the walls.
The lump in her throat grew. This was a home well cared for likely by Marion and the other women who lived here and were loved by the MacLeod men. She felt like an utter outcast, and when each person they passed either glanced at her with open hostility or avoided her gaze altogether, the feeling increased. When Rory Mac showed her into her bedchamber, she was almost glad, except when he closed the door. She tensed, waiting for the sound of a wood slab to be slid into place. She was all too familiar with the thudding sound from her time at the nunnery, yet thethunknever came. Studying the door, she exhaled unevenly, realizing it had the wood slab on the inside to lock people out, so perchance that meant it did not have a slab on the outside to lock people in.
Just to ensure she was correct, she went to the door and tried it. It surprised her to find Rory Mac still standing there when the door opened. “Have ye been ordered to guard me?”
“Aye,” he said, looking none too pleased about it. “Graham insisted either Cameron or I guard ye at all times.”
She didn’t know what to make of that. Did she dare think Graham might be truly worried for her, or was he simply concerned she would try to flee again? Surely, he did not fret at all that she could somehow escape the walls of Dunvegan and the men here?
“Please let me see Graham,” she asked once again, feeling an overwhelming need to talk to him.
“Ye need nae feign ye care for his welfare,” Rory Mac growled.
“I do care!” she cried, only realizing in that moment how true it was.
Rory Mac pointed to her empty bedchamber. “Ye may have Cameron convinced but nae me, and ye can be certain nae Graham or he would nae have insisted me or his brother be the ones to watch over ye. He dunnae trust ye to stay where ye are and nae make trouble, and neither do I. Now go to bed.”
Arguing was futile, and her pride and hope had once again been crushed. She took to her bed and spent the night restlessly tossing and turning, first haunted by dreams of her father coming to get her and punishing her severely for running from him, and then she was tormented by dreams of Graham. Yet these dreams contained a different sort of torment. Graham used his mouth to tease her body in such a pleasurable way that when she awoke, she could hardly catch her breath. A flush covered her body, her breasts felt heavy, and her nipples were taut. She did not understand why Graham was affecting her so.
The day passed slowly with her alternating between pacing the room, staring out the small window into the courtyard, and lying on the bed staring up at ceiling. She saw only Rory Mac the first full day at the castle when he offered her three different meals. She knew he must have had a respite, and she imagined that Cameron was the one to give it to him, but Cameron did not enter her bedchamber to visit with her, which served to only add to the hurt she was feeling. She had thought perchance they were now friends, of a sort, but if that were the case it seemed he would have at least stopped in to offer her news of her sister. She did ask after Marsaili, but either Rory Mac did not know what was occurring with her sister or he simply did not want to tell her. She could not read the truth in the stubborn Scot’s face.
She awoke on the second full day of her confinement to the sound of men’s voices talking in low tones in the hall. Hurrying from her bed, she raced to the door and threw it open. Cameron and Rory Mac immediately stopped speaking and turned to her at once. Anger flared in her chest that they were leaving her confined with no word of what might happen to her, until she got a good look at Cameron. He appeared haggard, as if he had gotten little sleep. At once, her thoughts became worry for Graham.
“Is Graham still ill?” she demanded, not bothering to hide the concern in her tone.
Cameron gave her a hard look. “Ye need nae fash yerself with Graham.”
“Do ye need me to stay and handle the nosy lass?” Rory Mac asked, giving he a pointed look.
Cameron shook his head. “Nay. Dunnae fash yerself, either. I can handle one wee lass.” With a chuckle and a wave of his hand, Rory Mac departed.
The moment the Scot disappeared down the stone stairs, she asked again, “Please, Cameron, is Graham still ill?”
He glanced toward the stairs as if to ensure Rory Mac was indeed gone, and then he looked slowly back at her. “Aye,” he replied, making her stomach tighten with fear by the worried look on his face and in his tone. “They kinnae get his fever to break, and he sleeps fitfully and talks gibberish in his sleep or talks of things that are verra unlike him.”
She pressed her fingertips to her throbbing temples. “Fever dreams. They say sometimes when one is gripped by a terrible fever one will say what is truly in one’s heart that one may nae usually say.”
Cameron gave her a long, strange look. “Aye. That would make sense… Ye said ye knew the healing arts?”
She nodded and gripped Cameron by the arm. “Take me to him. Perchance I can help.”
“I kinnae.”
“Why?” she snapped, frustration getting the better of her temperament.
He opened his mouth as if to tell her but then he closed it. Vexation flitted across his face. “I just kinnae.”
“Because ye dunnae trust that I would truly try to help?”
Cameron simply stared at her, making her irritation grow, but she struggled to control it. At this point, it did not really matter why. He was not going to take her to Graham, so she needed to do what she could to aid Graham from afar.
