Read Online Beloved Imposter by PATRICIA POTTER - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: PATRICIA POTTER
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another wife. Alexander Maclean had married for love three times and had watched each bride die.
As Rory had twice.
He followed Moira along the passageway, his soft shoes barely making a sound on the stone floors.
The door was open. He entered, Moira trailing behind him. A servant was beside the slight figure in the large bed.
Her cheeks were flushed with fever, her eyes hollow, and she sneezed.
“My lady,” he said with a frown.
She looked up at him with clouded eyes.
God’s blood . If the Cameron lass were to sicken in his care…
He looked helplessly at Moira.
“The poor lass canna be traveling today,” she said. “I will be making a potion for her.”
“When will she be able to travel?”
“I do not know,” Moira said.
“I should send word to the Camerons,” he said.
Janet Cameron began to cough.
” Tis no’ a good idea,” came Douglas’s voice from the doorway.
Rory whirled around, saw Douglas’s concerned face.
“I will be back,” Rory told Moira and stepped outside with Douglas, closing the door behind him. “Why is it not a good idea?”
“Archibald claims that no one knows we took her. No one knows she is here. I think it best if we return her in good health.”
Rory knew instantly that Douglas was right. If anything happened to the lass, the blame would fall on Maclean heads.
She would not worsen. She could not.
A cold knot formed in his stomach. He did not know if he could bear to see another woman die. Especially by his hand, or that of his clan. They were the same, he knew, and would be judged so. Intentions did not matter.
He could not allow it to happen.
He turned to Douglas. “Is there a physician?”
“Not in fifty miles.”
“Send someone for him. Take two horses and change them on the way.”
“Moira—”
“Moira is a fine healer, but I will not take any chances with the lass’s life.”
Douglas nodded. “I will send one man and tell the others to dismount.”
“Nay. I want them to scout the area. And I want more sentries on the walls. There is always the chance that someone did see her taken.”
Rory watched him go down the steps, then stared at the closed door of the chamber again.
He hated indecision. He did not like feeling helpless. Nor did he like the feeling that he had been here before. He had watched two wives die. Pain rushed through him at both memories.
He vowed that if the fever worsened, he would send a rider to the Cameron keep. She should have those who cared for her nearby.
He went back into the room.
Moira was washing the lady’s face with cool water, and some of the fever flush was fading.
Mayhap God was with him this time.
He knelt at her side. “I can send word to your clan that you are ill.”
“Nay,” she said with a soft sigh. “I would no’ wish to be the cause of war.”
“They must know you are missing now. They will be worried.”
“My father is in Edinburgh.”
“Your mother then.”
A cloud passed across her face, and she turned away.
Was there some reason then that she would not want her family to know where she was?
By all that was holy, he had been responsible for enough misery. And now he was responsible for her. He would do as she wished. For now. But he felt bloody uncomfortable doing it. The longer he waited, the more blame could come to the clan.
He had returned home to try to bring peace after years of war. As a youth, he had taken part in the bitter warfare with the Campbells. It wasn’t until he heard a woman’s tortured cries and realized a child had died that his blood had cooled. He would never forget that day. Though he had not dealt the death blow, the cries of the mother still haunted him.
And then he had wed Maggie, though he had never felt worthy of her. She had brought gentleness to his life. Now he was facing conflict with still another clan, one nearly as powerful as the Campbells.
He rose to his feet and turned to Moira. “Let me know of any change. Even the smallest
As Rory had twice.
He followed Moira along the passageway, his soft shoes barely making a sound on the stone floors.
The door was open. He entered, Moira trailing behind him. A servant was beside the slight figure in the large bed.
Her cheeks were flushed with fever, her eyes hollow, and she sneezed.
“My lady,” he said with a frown.
She looked up at him with clouded eyes.
God’s blood . If the Cameron lass were to sicken in his care…
He looked helplessly at Moira.
“The poor lass canna be traveling today,” she said. “I will be making a potion for her.”
“When will she be able to travel?”
“I do not know,” Moira said.
“I should send word to the Camerons,” he said.
Janet Cameron began to cough.
” Tis no’ a good idea,” came Douglas’s voice from the doorway.
Rory whirled around, saw Douglas’s concerned face.
“I will be back,” Rory told Moira and stepped outside with Douglas, closing the door behind him. “Why is it not a good idea?”
“Archibald claims that no one knows we took her. No one knows she is here. I think it best if we return her in good health.”
Rory knew instantly that Douglas was right. If anything happened to the lass, the blame would fall on Maclean heads.
She would not worsen. She could not.
A cold knot formed in his stomach. He did not know if he could bear to see another woman die. Especially by his hand, or that of his clan. They were the same, he knew, and would be judged so. Intentions did not matter.
He could not allow it to happen.
He turned to Douglas. “Is there a physician?”
“Not in fifty miles.”
“Send someone for him. Take two horses and change them on the way.”
“Moira—”
“Moira is a fine healer, but I will not take any chances with the lass’s life.”
Douglas nodded. “I will send one man and tell the others to dismount.”
“Nay. I want them to scout the area. And I want more sentries on the walls. There is always the chance that someone did see her taken.”
Rory watched him go down the steps, then stared at the closed door of the chamber again.
He hated indecision. He did not like feeling helpless. Nor did he like the feeling that he had been here before. He had watched two wives die. Pain rushed through him at both memories.
He vowed that if the fever worsened, he would send a rider to the Cameron keep. She should have those who cared for her nearby.
He went back into the room.
Moira was washing the lady’s face with cool water, and some of the fever flush was fading.
Mayhap God was with him this time.
He knelt at her side. “I can send word to your clan that you are ill.”
“Nay,” she said with a soft sigh. “I would no’ wish to be the cause of war.”
“They must know you are missing now. They will be worried.”
“My father is in Edinburgh.”
“Your mother then.”
A cloud passed across her face, and she turned away.
Was there some reason then that she would not want her family to know where she was?
By all that was holy, he had been responsible for enough misery. And now he was responsible for her. He would do as she wished. For now. But he felt bloody uncomfortable doing it. The longer he waited, the more blame could come to the clan.
He had returned home to try to bring peace after years of war. As a youth, he had taken part in the bitter warfare with the Campbells. It wasn’t until he heard a woman’s tortured cries and realized a child had died that his blood had cooled. He would never forget that day. Though he had not dealt the death blow, the cries of the mother still haunted him.
And then he had wed Maggie, though he had never felt worthy of her. She had brought gentleness to his life. Now he was facing conflict with still another clan, one nearly as powerful as the Campbells.
He rose to his feet and turned to Moira. “Let me know of any change. Even the smallest
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