Highland Heiress - By Margaret Moore Page 0,43

and she must and would cling to that.

“Doctor?” she said softly, afraid to disturb either one of them.

Dr. Campbell glanced over his shoulder, put the bottle he was holding into his bag, rose and faced her.

“How is he, Doctor?”

“As well as can be expected, all things considered,” Dr. Campbell answered, his voice sympathetic, his eyes grave. “Fortunately, I can detect no broken bones. However, he’s been stabbed and—”

“Stabbed?” she gasped.

“Yes, and he’s lost a considerable amount of blood. Luckily, the knife grazed the rib and missed any major organs or arteries.”

Or he would be dead.

The doctor took her arm and led her to a chair near a slightly open window. “Please, sit, my lady.”

“I’m…I’m all right,” she muttered, although she really felt sick and dizzy. “I’m just so…”

Relieved and terrified. Upset and hopeful. Worried and appalled and frightened and glad.

As the doctor looked down at her, he took her hand gently in his. “There is more, my lady. I fear he may have suffered a concussion. It may be serious, it may not. The longer he remains unconscious, though, the greater the possibility that serious damage has been done. It’s also difficult to ascertain the extent of any internal injuries to the rest of his body. Infection and pneumonia remain a danger, especially since we don’t know how long he was exposed to the elements. He has a low fever that may indicate that infection has already set in and if it has, the outcome could be fatal.”

Fatal.

She wouldn’t despair. She couldn’t. He had to get better. He simply had to.

“I must also tell you that I don’t think he should be moved for a week at the very least. And he should have a nurse. There’s a woman in the village, Mrs. McAlvey, who’s very skilled.”

Finally something she could do—or at least pay for. “You must do whatever is necessary, Doctor, without any concern for the cost.”

“Excellent. I’ll send Mrs. McAlvey here as soon as I return to Dunbrachie.” He gave Moira a consoling smile. “You must try not to worry, my lady. He’s a strong young man, so I think we can have good cause to hope that he will make a full recovery.”

Moira nodded.

Leaving her by the window, Dr. Campbell returned to packing his bag with swift, efficient motions. “I was sorry to hear about your school, my lady. What a terrible thing!”

“My school can be rebuilt,” she said, looking at poor Mr. McHeath lying so still.

“You intend to do so?”

She hadn’t really thought about it, but after he asked the question, she made her decision. She wasn’t going to let rogues and vandals destroy her dream. “I do.”

The doctor picked up his valise. “I regret I cannot stay any longer, but Mr. Monroe is very ill and I must see how he fares today. I’ll send Mrs. McAlvey as soon as possible. In the meantime, if Mr. McHeath doesn’t wake up soon, try to rouse him. If you cannot, or if he wakes but falls asleep again and you cannot wake him after a few more hours have passed, send for me. Or if his fever worsens.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

He started for the door, then turned back. “Is your father here? Perhaps I should apprise him of Mr. McHeath’s condition, as well.”

“He’s away on business,” she replied, for once glad that he wasn’t at home. Even if he were, he wouldn’t want to speak to Dr. Campbell, about anything. Ever since her mother had died less than a day after a doctor had pronounced her illness nothing more than a slight congestion in the chest, he’d lost all respect for the medical profession, or anyone who practiced it.

“Good day, then, my lady.”

Once the doctor had gone, Moira sat by the bed and picked up a square of fresh linen that smelled of lavender, one of the many little luxuries their new life afforded. She dipped it in the ewer of cool fresh water and wrung it out.

She was about to wipe Mr. McHeath’s forehead when he suddenly shifted and mumbled, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Although he was talking, his eyes were still closed and when she called his name, he didn’t respond.

He moved again. “You should have told me.”

“You must rest, Mr. McHeath,” she said softly as she wiped his forehead. “You’ve been very badly hurt.”

His eyes abruptly opened and he reached out to grasp her arm with surprising strength. But his gaze was unfocused and his next words told her he wasn’t really aware of where he