Read Online Highland Surrender by Dawn Halliday - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dawn Halliday
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wenches.” She glanced up to give Ceana a saucy wink. “Now, why did my husband cause me to fret when it is clear you are as right as my leg?”
“I’m sorry to have caused you worry. It is good to see you, my dear.”
Sorcha knelt to kiss Cam on the lips. “I forgive you. I’m happy to see that you’re not quite at death’s door.”
Cam’s gaze rested on her rounded stomach. “You’ve . . . grown.”
Sorcha laughed. “Aye, so I have. He’s huge, isn’t he? I think he intends to grow until he bursts right out of me.”
“You think it’s a boy, then?”
“A lass wouldn’t have the impudence to stretch me thus.”
Ceana watched their easy camaraderie in bemusement. Cam and Sorcha had been lovers, and with Alan in the same room, Ceana would have expected some tension. But while Alan was silent at the threshold, his stance was relaxed and she detected no animosity from him. How extraordinarily odd.
As Ceana handed Alan the medicine, Sorcha turned to her. “Ceana, do you know the surgeon at Camdonn Castle?”
“No, I haven’t had that pleasure,” Ceana stated dryly. With a few exceptions, Ceana was wary of those formally trained in the ways of medicine. When she encountered them, her claws invariably extended. Besides being pompous and generally ineffective, these men could be dangerous to her kind. In the middle of the last century, Ceana’s great-grandmother had been burned as a witch on the evidence of such “learned” men.
“Well, he’s a fool,” Sorcha said. “Rest assured, if you place Cam’s well-being in that man’s hands, he’ll encourage ill humors rather than stave them off.”
Ceana sighed. “If you supply specific instructions—”
“—he’ll know they come from you and he’ll intentionally countermand your orders,” Alan finished. “I think you should accompany the earl back to the castle and stay with him until he’s healed.”
“That’s not necessary,” Cam said. “I’m already halfway healed, and Ceana has—”
Sorcha raised her hand, halting his words. “Do you trust your surgeon, Cam?”
“Well . . .” He hesitated and then said in a sheepish tone, “No.”
“Neither do I.” Again she turned to Ceana. “He needs proper care, doesn’t he? What will happen if he does not receive it?”
Ceana shrugged. “The wound will fester and he will die.”
“Then you must stay with him.”
Cam must have seen the hesitance in Ceana’s eyes. “She has other patients, Sorcha. I daresay I can manage my wound and the medications well enough on my own.”
Certainly there was someone at Camdonn Castle he could trust to care for him. Ceana blew out an exasperated breath. “If your surgeon is such an idiot, why do you continue to employ him?”
“He worked for my father, who promised him the position for life. Further, he is well liked. I haven’t the heart to cast him away.”
Ceana frowned at him. She’d been told the Earl of Camdonn didn’t have the heart for anyone. Certainly someone so ruthless wouldn’t keep a member of his staff out of sentimentality. Every minute she spent with the man drove home deeper the fact that the people of the Glen had misjudged him.
“Please, Ceana,” Sorcha said quietly. “When Cam was last injured like this, the wound festered and he nearly died. Your grandmother’s healing skills were what saved him in the end.” She shuddered and placed a protective hand over the swell of her belly. “We were so close to losing him. I don’t wish for that to happen again. I beg you to stay with him, at least until the wound is out of danger of festering.”
Ceana sighed. “Very well, then. For a few days.”
She felt Cam’s dark, soulful eyes boring into her, and she had a premonition that she’d live to regret that decision.
A few hours later, Ceana stood beside Cam’s grizzled manservant, Duncan MacDougall, in the earl’s cavernous bedchamber. Duncan was a round, small man with a haggard face and beady blue
“I’m sorry to have caused you worry. It is good to see you, my dear.”
Sorcha knelt to kiss Cam on the lips. “I forgive you. I’m happy to see that you’re not quite at death’s door.”
Cam’s gaze rested on her rounded stomach. “You’ve . . . grown.”
Sorcha laughed. “Aye, so I have. He’s huge, isn’t he? I think he intends to grow until he bursts right out of me.”
“You think it’s a boy, then?”
“A lass wouldn’t have the impudence to stretch me thus.”
Ceana watched their easy camaraderie in bemusement. Cam and Sorcha had been lovers, and with Alan in the same room, Ceana would have expected some tension. But while Alan was silent at the threshold, his stance was relaxed and she detected no animosity from him. How extraordinarily odd.
As Ceana handed Alan the medicine, Sorcha turned to her. “Ceana, do you know the surgeon at Camdonn Castle?”
“No, I haven’t had that pleasure,” Ceana stated dryly. With a few exceptions, Ceana was wary of those formally trained in the ways of medicine. When she encountered them, her claws invariably extended. Besides being pompous and generally ineffective, these men could be dangerous to her kind. In the middle of the last century, Ceana’s great-grandmother had been burned as a witch on the evidence of such “learned” men.
“Well, he’s a fool,” Sorcha said. “Rest assured, if you place Cam’s well-being in that man’s hands, he’ll encourage ill humors rather than stave them off.”
Ceana sighed. “If you supply specific instructions—”
“—he’ll know they come from you and he’ll intentionally countermand your orders,” Alan finished. “I think you should accompany the earl back to the castle and stay with him until he’s healed.”
“That’s not necessary,” Cam said. “I’m already halfway healed, and Ceana has—”
Sorcha raised her hand, halting his words. “Do you trust your surgeon, Cam?”
“Well . . .” He hesitated and then said in a sheepish tone, “No.”
“Neither do I.” Again she turned to Ceana. “He needs proper care, doesn’t he? What will happen if he does not receive it?”
Ceana shrugged. “The wound will fester and he will die.”
“Then you must stay with him.”
Cam must have seen the hesitance in Ceana’s eyes. “She has other patients, Sorcha. I daresay I can manage my wound and the medications well enough on my own.”
Certainly there was someone at Camdonn Castle he could trust to care for him. Ceana blew out an exasperated breath. “If your surgeon is such an idiot, why do you continue to employ him?”
“He worked for my father, who promised him the position for life. Further, he is well liked. I haven’t the heart to cast him away.”
Ceana frowned at him. She’d been told the Earl of Camdonn didn’t have the heart for anyone. Certainly someone so ruthless wouldn’t keep a member of his staff out of sentimentality. Every minute she spent with the man drove home deeper the fact that the people of the Glen had misjudged him.
“Please, Ceana,” Sorcha said quietly. “When Cam was last injured like this, the wound festered and he nearly died. Your grandmother’s healing skills were what saved him in the end.” She shuddered and placed a protective hand over the swell of her belly. “We were so close to losing him. I don’t wish for that to happen again. I beg you to stay with him, at least until the wound is out of danger of festering.”
Ceana sighed. “Very well, then. For a few days.”
She felt Cam’s dark, soulful eyes boring into her, and she had a premonition that she’d live to regret that decision.
A few hours later, Ceana stood beside Cam’s grizzled manservant, Duncan MacDougall, in the earl’s cavernous bedchamber. Duncan was a round, small man with a haggard face and beady blue
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