A Laird and a Gentleman (All the King's Men #4) - Gerri Russell Page 0,49
managing poorly. The fields and cattle are thriving. Though with my father’s death, he’d given retainers to many of his older staff and they left without finding replacements. The household has turned into chaos, and is in desperate need of a feminine hand.” He looked down at his scraped and dirty hands. “I feel as though I am drowning every day in responsibility that I cannot handle alone.” He looked up again. A weary, almost helpless expression drained his face of color. “A part of me dies every day as a result.”
Cameron sheathed his sword and tucked Mason’s into his belt as he strode forward. He stopped before him and reached out, grasping Mason by the upper arms. “I apologize if you feel I have deceived you in any way with regards to Mariam’s availability. If you are in such desperate need of a wife, then come with us to Falkland Palace and I will petition the king on your behalf.”
The tension between the two men drained away as Mason’s cheeks flamed. “You would do that for me . . . after I . . . I’m so sorry.”
Cameron dropped his hands and stepped back. “Let us put this behind us. Though if you don’t mind, I will keep a hold on your sword until we arrive at our destination.”
Mason’s cheeks brightened to a deep red. “Aye. I should have known better than to attack a seasoned warrior, and one of the king’s own men.”
Cameron smiled. “I understand more than you know. Where women are concerned, men seem to throw logic into the wind.”
Chapter Twelve
Illness wasn’t coming to Ravenscraig. It was already there. Mariam’s dream had been right once again, no matter how much she prayed she’d be wrong this one time. Cameron had been gone for one day when signs of influenza started appearing in both the elderly and the young inhabitants of the castle, including someone who’d become very dear to her.
Mariam sat at Nessie’s bedside, cooling the older woman’s feverish forehead with a cool cloth. This morning, twelve others had started showing symptoms of an illness with fever and chills, aches and pains, weakness and fatigue. But by the late afternoon that number had swelled to thirty-two.
Hoping to keep those who were sick isolated from the healthy, Mariam had set up the great hall as a sickroom. Anyone else who started showing symptoms was to be placed on a pallet. Her remaining maids Petunia and Estella had bravely volunteered to keep watch over the patients while trying to keep their heads cool with damp cloths.
At the thought of what would eventually happen to those who had fallen ill, fear lodged in Mariam’s throat like a lump. Influenza was as deadly as it was swift. With an effort, she forced the thought aside. She would do anything to reverse the effect, if only she knew how.
Nessie lay against the bed linens in her chamber upstairs, pale and limp. Her breathing was ragged and her lips parched. Mariam might not know what else to do, but she could at least give the older woman some water to help bring her fever down. She poured water from a pitcher into a pewter mug and, careful not to move Nessie too harshly, raised her head slightly and put the mug to the woman’s lips. It took a while for Nessie to realize the water was there before her lips parted and she took a small sip. “That’s it, try a bit more,” Mariam encouraged.
When Nessie had taken several sips, a low, pained groan issued from her. Her eyes cracked open and she blinked as her eyes adjusted to the candlelight.
After resettling her on the pillow, Mariam looked in Nessie’s face and saw her own deep-seated despair mirrored back at her. “I don’t know how to help you—or any of the others. Do you know of a way? I’ve heard of influenza and its deadly spread before, but never experienced it myself. I need help.”
Nessie’s mouth opened slightly but nothing came out. Still, Mariam could make out the formation of the words ‘your magic.’
“My magic?” she echoed aloud.
Nessie nodded.
Panic clutched Mariam’s heart. She straightened, fighting the emotion. She had to stay strong. She must keep her head. Nessie’s recovery and that of so many others depended on it. “I don’t know how to channel whatever this is I have. All I have been able to accomplish is to unleash wind and make it rain.”