As soon as Ewan began busying himself with dampening the clothes in the basin across the room, Alaric set about removing Keeley’s gown—an act she was not happy about and determined to fight him at every turn.

“Nay!” she cried.

Tears thickened in her throat, making her already-hoarse voice all the more husky.

“Please, ’tis not seemly. You should not do this. ’Tis wrong!”

Her hands batted outward, connecting with Alaric’s cheekbone. It stung, but she was as weak as a kitten and didn’t pack much of a punch. Thank goodness.

“Shh, lass. I’m not going to hurt you. I swear it. Be at ease. ’Tis Alaric, your warrior.”

When he continued to ease the dress over her shoulders she began weeping. Silent tears slid seamlessly down her cheeks. There was resignation in her posture as if she’d given up fighting off her unknown demon.

“ ’Tis my home,” she said brokenly. “You can’t turn me away from my home. I did nothing.”

Alaric’s rage knew no bounds. He realized now that she was reliving her treatment by the hands of Laird McDonald and her subsequent banishment from the McDonald clan.

He wanted to march over and kill the whole lot of them.

“Jesu, what happened to her?” Ewan demanded quietly.

“She has had all manner of injustice heaped upon her,” Alaric said in a tight voice. “If ’tis up to me, the debt owed to her will be repaid.”

“Alaric …” Ewan trailed off and stared up at his brother while he rung out a series of cloths. He stopped and dropped the last over the edge of the pail. “Don’t make her fall in love with you. ’Twould be cruel. She feels for you. Any fool can see that. Don’t encourage her in this foolishness. It will only hurt her later when you marry another. If you care at all for her, you’ll spare her that devastation and humiliation.”

“You ask the impossible, Ewan. I can’t … I can’t just give her up because it’s the right thing to do. Of course it’s the right thing to do. I have no desire to hurt either woman even if I have no knowledge of Rionna McDonald. I would visit no shame on either of the women.”

“This can’t end well,” Ewan said softly. “Whether for you or Rionna or Keeley. Someone will be hurt unless you end it here and now.”

“Could you let go of Mairin? If the king came to you tomorrow and told you that she would be given in marriage to another man to seal an alliance with the throne of Scotland, would you simply say aye and accept that you could never have her?”

“That’s a ridiculous comparison.”

“I’ve not pushed aside my duty. I only know that as long as I have her, I refuse to pretend I’m not filled with gladness as soon as she comes into a room. I’m not going to waste a single second, so that when it comes time for us to part, we’ll have a lifetime of memories to hold us into our old age.”

“Fool,” Ewan bit out. “Stay away from her. Make a clean break before you become too involved. ’Tis the best way.”

Alaric smiled sadly. “ ’Tis too late to tell me not to become too involved.”

“Tread lightly then. We cannot afford to anger Gregor McDonald. Nay, he isn’t the strongest of allies, but he’s key in our quest to ally ourselves with the neighboring clan.”

“ ’Tis Gregor who is better not to anger me,” Alaric hissed. “He has a lot to pay for on his deathbed. I’d like to hasten him to it for his treatment of Keeley.”

Keeley began to moan and toss again, fretting in incoherent phrases and babbling nonsense. Ewan tossed Alaric one of the cool cloths and Alaric applied it over her forehead.

She quieted for a moment, but when Alaric placed the second cloth over her neck, she began to shiver violently.

“C-C-Cold, Alaric. Please. I don’t want to be cold.”

“Shhh, love, I’m here,” he crooned.

“Do you want me to stay?” Ewan asked.

Alaric shook his head. “Nay, Mairin will wonder why you are up. If I have need of water for the tub or snow, I’ll call for Gannon and Cormac.”

Ewan squeezed his shoulder and then let himself out of the chamber. Alaric returned his attention to bathing Keeley.

With each stroke of the cloth down her skin, chill bumps erupted and danced across her flesh. She accompanied each outbreak with a violent shiver and a soft moan.

Finally it was too much for him. Her flesh had cooled a significant amount, and he knew that if he went too far in the other direction, she could die of exposure as well.

Leaving her naked, he climbed into bed beside her and curled her into his arms. Her body was a shock of cold, her hands clumsy as they skittered across his chest seeking warmth.

Finally they tucked beneath his tunic and found his skin, and she sighed in contentment as she burrowed her head in the crook of his arm.

Gradually the shaking stopped and she went limp against him. He reached down to pull one of the furs and settled it over the both of them, but was careful not to seal their heat under the covering.

He kissed her still warm forehead and whispered, “Sleep, love. I’m here to watch over you.”

“My warrior,” she murmured.

And he smiled. Aye, just as she was his angel.

CHAPTER 24

Keeley awoke feeling like she was trapped under a boulder. Even breathing hurt. Her head was so heavy she couldn’t lift it, and she positively rattled when she tried to draw in air.

She opened her mouth, but her lips were cracked and her tongue was so dry it felt as though she rubbed it across sand.

Then she made the mistake of trying to move.

She whimpered and tears welled in her eyes. How could she feel so miserable? What had happened to her? She was never ill. She prided herself on being hale and hearty.

“Keeley, love, don’t cry.”

Alaric’s usually soothing, deep timbred voice, crackled over her ears like the sound of swords clashing.

Her vision blurred by tears, she could barely make out the outline of his face as he peered over her.

“Sick,” she croaked.

“Aye, lass, I know you’re ailing.”

“Never sick.”

He leaned in closer and smiled. “You are now.”

“Ask Maddie for the paste for my chest. ’Twill lessen some of the rattle and discomfort.”

Alaric slid his palm over her cheek, and his skin felt so cool against her burning face that she nuzzled and rubbed back and forth.

“Not to worry. Maddie has already been in your chamber three times this morning. She’s clucking like a mother hen. Mairin has been forbidden access, and she’s voicing her displeasure to anyone within hearing distance.”

Keeley tried to smile, but it hurt too much.

“Hungry,” she complained.

“Gertie is bringing you some broth.”

She blinked to try and bring Alaric’s face further into focus, but he was still blurry around the edges. But she could see his eyes. His beautiful, crystal green eyes.

She sighed. “I love your eyes.”

He grinned and she blinked in surprise.

“Did I say that aloud?”

“Aye, you did,” he said in a tone heavy with amusement.

“Am I still gripped with fever? ’Tis the only explanation for my wayward tongue.”

“Aye, the fever still rages high within you.”

She frowned. “But I’m no longer cold. The sign of a fever ’tis a chill. I find I’m overhot.”

“Your flesh still burns and your eyes are dull. ’Tis a good sign I’m told that you are not racked by chills any longer, but you are sick still.”

“I don’t like being ill.”

She knew she sounded like a petulant child, but she couldn’t control the urge to sulk. She was used to tending the ill, not joining their ranks.

Alaric grinned and then pulled her into his arms.

“Why are you tending me?” she asked, her voice muffled by his chest. “ ’Tis not proper at all.”

“But then we’ve not been very proper together,” he murmured.

She smiled but then sobered. “What will everyone think? Say?”

“If they value their well-being, they’ll say nothing at all. They’ll think what they think. We cannot control that.”

She frowned. He was right. She well knew it. But she also knew that suspicion led to gossip and gossip led to accusations and then action.

He kissed the top of her head and she closed her eyes against the sweetness of his embrace.

“Ewan will want to know what occurred. Are you feeling well enough to face his questions?”

’Twas the truth she’d rather face an angry mob flinging stones than have to think back over the events with the way her head throbbed and her throat ached. But she also knew that the laird needed to know whatever she could tell him. He had a wife and a child to protect. He had the whole of the clan to protect.

“As long as I have water to sip at, I can speak with the laird.”

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t keep you long,” Alaric soothed.

Just then the door burst open and Maddie stuck her head around the door. Even though the older woman knew of Keeley’s feelings for Alaric, Keeley stiffened and tried to pull away.

Alaric caught her to him and relaxed against the bed as he waited for Maddie to come to them.

“I have hot broth and water. The broth will soothe your sore throat, lass. The water will help the fever I hope. ’Tis important you drink enough.”

Alaric took the steaming broth and carefully put it to Keeley’s lips. “Just sip. ’Tis hot.”

Grateful for the support of his arm, she carefully took a little of the broth into her mouth. She felt as weak as a kitten and would surely have flopped over were it not for Alaric holding her up.

He was infinitely patient, holding the trencher each time she took a bit of the liquid onto her tongue. At first it hurt going down. Her throat felt like it had a thousand scratches in the swollen flesh.

When she could take no more, she leaned back against Alaric’s arm and closed her eyes.

“I’ll be back up in a little while, lass,” Maddie said in hushed tones. “If you have need of anything before that, summon me. I’ll come at once.”

Keeley was barely able to nod. Just consuming the broth had taken all the strength she had. And she still had to speak to the laird.

She closed her eyes and focused on breathing to keep the room from spinning. Alaric pressed his lips to her temple and curled her tighter into his side.

His warmth seeped into her bones and she gave a sigh of contentment. ’Twas the best she’d felt since she’d awakened.

She groaned when a knock sounded at the door. Alaric’s command to enter sounded distant, like he was underwater. Or maybe it was she who was underwater. ’Twas clear that one of them was.

She roused herself when she heard the laird’s quietly voiced question. Then she frowned. Alaric was arguing with his brother. He wanted Ewan to leave her alone and leave the questioning to later.

“Nay, ’tis all right,” she said. Her throat protested the few words, and she put her hand to her neck to massage away the discomfort.

Ewan sat right on the bed at Alaric’s feet, which Keeley thought a bit improper, but he was the laird and as such he could do what he wanted.

Ewan grinned. “Aye, lass, ’tis a perk of being laird. I do get to do what I like.”

“I didn’t mean to say that so loud,” she muttered.

“Are you feeling well enough to tell me what happened in the woods? I’ve spoken to Crispen and the other children, and God’s teeth, but they each give a different accounting.”

She smiled but groaned when it hurt. “I don’t understand why I feel so badly.”

She tried not to sound so cross, but she was sure she failed, judging by the amused looks on Alaric’s and Ewan’s faces.

Ewan’s expression sobered and then he leaned forward. “I feel I’m forever thanking someone for saving my son’s life. ’Tis the truth he seems to find trouble wherever he goes. He told me you fought for him. I owe you a debt that can never be repaid.”

She shook her head drowsily. “Nay. You’ve already repaid it.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you speak of, lass?”

“Your clan,” she said hoarsely. “You made me a member of your clan. ’Tis payment enough.”

Alaric’s arm tightened around her shoulders and he stroked his fingers over her arm in a soothing pattern.

Ewan’s expression softened. “You will have a home here for as long as you wish it. You have my word.”

She licked her cracked lips and burrowed a little closer to Alaric. The chill was returning and already her bones ached.

“I fear I’ll be of no aid to you. It all happened so fast. I know they thought me your lady wife and they were most eager to spirit me away. They called you a fool for leaving Lady McCabe unattended.”