to suggest. “I brought some medicine back in time with me. Just in case I needed it, you see. I didn’t wish to fall ill in this century. I took precautions and such before leaving but this is different.” Gwen stared, clearly confused by what she was saying. “The medications I have could possibly help the laird if you’ll let him take it.”
“Truly?” Gwen sat and waved her over to join her on the lounge. “Like what, lass?”
“Just small things, like cough medicine, and paracetamol, which helps bring fevers down. It may help him, or at least relieve his symptoms a little.”
“Why did ye not mention them before? Ben’s been here a week already.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.” Kenzie didn’t like the slight timbre of Gwen’s chastisement, but she was right. The man had been here for seven days, and she should’ve spoken up about her idea sooner, but... “Truly, I didn’t mean not to help, but I wasn’t sure if it was something I should do. No one in this time has ever been exposed to the kinds of medicine I have, and it worried me that by giving it to the laird I may make him sicker, or even worse, kill him.”
Gwen patted her hand, understanding dawning in her eyes. “Nay, lass, I understand. Of course, ye were worried and rightfully so. But I think in this case, it’s a risk we need to take. Nothing I’ve tried has helped him, and his fever is something I canna get down.”
“The paracetamol will help best with that. I’ll retrieve it and meet you in the laird’s room, if you like.”
“I’ll fetch another pitcher of cool water and meet ye there.”
Kenzie did as Gwen bade and collected the medicine. The day she’d arrived she’d hidden it behind a loose board next to the fireplace, not wanting any of the staff to find it. A box with smart packaging and pretty little tablets and a bottle of liquid with a child-proof cap wouldn’t be the easiest items to explain.
Gwen was already beside the laird when Kenzie arrived, and she quickly passed the two tablets over.
“Leave us,” Gwen commanded to the two maids who bustled about the room, stoking fires and taking away dirty linen. The two girls did as they were told, closing the wooden door silently behind them.
“Does he swallow them whole, or can I crush them into a drinkable solution?”
“You can do either, but I’d suggest you crush them. In his current condition, I don’t think the laird is capable of swallowing them whole.” Her ancestor looked at the little tablets, running her finger over them, before placing them in a mortar and pestle and crushing them to powder.
“They’re the oddest little things. You’ll have to tell me what’s in them, so I may be able to reproduce them in some way here. If they work, of course.”
Kenzie smiled. “They’ll bring his temperature down, of that I have no doubt, but as for the infection in his lungs… Well, we could try the cough medicine and see if that alleviates his symptoms a little.” Or not. She was unsure if any of it would work. She watched as Gwen placed the crushed tablets into a cup and mixed them with ale.
The laird tossed and turned on the bed, sweat beading his brow and his cheeks as red as a beetroot. Kenzie wasn’t sure if the pills would help the infection that was raging through his body, but she hoped so. Gwen did seem very fond of the man, and although he’d been quite annoying the first time she’d met him, the past seven days had been different.
Probably due to the fact he was mostly in a comatose state, but even so, he was easy to look at, even as ill as he was. His ebony locks hung loose about his shoulders. Kenzie was shocked to feel a pull of some sort of emotion she’d never experienced before. Of course, it wasn’t because he was very handsome with high cheekbones, a perfect straight nose, and lovely brows that were a lot more obvious now that he was cleaned up a little. She wasn’t that shallow to crush on a guy near his death bed.
Kenzie helped sit the laird up, and with a little coaxing, Gwen was able to get the paracetamol down without too much spillage. He flopped back onto the bedding, his face a mixture of pain and annoyance.
Over the next few hours, the fever, which had wrecked his