Once in the saddle, he quickly shifted her to rest in his arms again. Ross then urged his horse out of the clearing and into a run for home. He had to get Annabel to Seonag. She would know what to do.
ANNABEL'S HEAD WAS pounding when she woke up. That pounding only got worse when she tried to open her eyes and light crowded in, so she closed them again quickly with a moan and reached for her head, only to have her hands caught halfway there and held firmly.
"Now, lass. Ye won't want to be doing that. 'Tis no doubt tender at the moment and ye'll just cause yerself more pain."
"Seonag?" Annabel said uncertainly, unwilling to open her eyes again just now, but sure she'd recognized the older woman's voice.
"Aye. 'Tis me, and yer safely home now," the woman said soothingly.
"Home," Annabel echoed the word softly, confusion filling her. "What happened? Why does my head hurt so much?"
"Do ye no' remember?" Seonag asked.
Annabel heard what she felt sure was concern in her voice and frowned, trying to recall. After a moment she said slowly, "Ross took me on a picnic."
"Aye," Seonag said with a tinge of relief.
"And we . . . er . . . picnicked," she finished lamely, not willing to say what else they'd done. That being the case, she glossed over the next bit quickly. "Ross fell asleep."
"Men often do after a picnic."
Annabel was quite sure there was amusement in the woman's voice as she said the word picnic, and suspected the maid knew that more than picnicking had gone on, but continued, "And I went for a swim in the river."
"In the river?" Seonag squawked with alarm. "Bloody hell. Yer lucky the currents did no' carry ye away. Don't be doing that again, lass."
"I will not," Annabel assured her and knew it was true, but it wasn't Seonag's warning that would prevent it. It was how cold the water had been, and what she was now recalling had happened after her dip in the river that would prevent her doing that again. "I tried to don my gown, but I was wet and got tangled up in it."
"Ah," Seonag said as if that explanation clarified something she hadn't understood.
"And then I heard snapping branches and rustling as if someone was approaching," Annabel continued slowly as the recollection flowed over her. "I could just see out of the neck of the gown if I tipped my head back and looked through it, so I bent in the direction the sound was coming from."
"Did ye see him?" Seonag asked.
"Just enough to know someone was approaching," Annabel said with a grimace. In her memory all she'd glimpsed was a band of plaid moving toward her.
"And was it an Englishman or someone in a plaid?" Seonag asked with a frown.
"A plaid," Annabel answered.
"Ah." Seonag paused briefly and Annabel guessed she was nodding when she added, "Aye, 'tis what the laird said. A man in a plaid."
"He saw him?" Annabel asked with surprise, blinking her eyes open briefly, only to close them again as pain once more stabbed through them into her head along with the light.
"Aye. He said he saw you first." There was a brief pause and then she said tentatively, "He said ye were racing about the clearing like a chicken with its head cut off, yer gown around yer head and blind from it."
"Oh." Annabel breathed the word out on a sigh. The picture Seonag's words painted was not a grand one. No doubt she had looked a complete fool.
"He said as how ye ran into a tree like that?" Seonag prompted, obviously wondering if she recalled that part of her adventure.
"Was it a tree?" Annabel asked weakly. "All I remember is hitting something hard and pain exploding in my head."
"Hmmm. Yer memory's still all there then," Seonag said, sounding relieved.
Annabel didn't comment, but merely asked, "Did my husband catch the man?"
"Nay," Seonag answered. "The laird didn't give chase. He was more concerned with getting ye home to tend yer wound. He's out there now with the men though, beating the bushes and searching for him."
"Oh," Annabel murmured, oddly disappointed that he'd simply dumped her there in Seonag's care and rushed off rather than stay to see her wake up and reassure himself that she was all right. She supposed it was silly, but after what they'd done in the woods she'd thought--
"He wanted to stay," Seonag added. "But he was driving me wild pacing about like a caged animal and hovering over me shoulder while I tried to clean yer wound, so I ordered him from the room. Told him did he no' leave and go find the man responsible, I'd stop what I was doing and leave Cook to tend ye. Cook is no' very good with wounds, so he left," she added.
"Oh," Annabel murmured, feeling a little better about being abandoned. Although, she would have felt better still to hear that he'd left the room only to hover anxiously in the hall, haunting the door like a ghost in his worry. That, she supposed, was silly too, but she couldn't help what she wished for.
"Can ye open yer eyes now?" Seonag asked suddenly.
Annabel hesitated, but then eased her eyes open, and again closed them. "Nay."
"Try more slowly," Seonag suggested. "Open them just a wee bit, then a bit more."
She grimaced, but cracked her eyes open just a sliver. It caused pain, but wasn't as bad as when she'd opened them wide, so Annabel eased them open just a crack more. It took a couple of moments, but in the end she was able to open her eyes all the way without too much discomfort.
"Good," Seonag praised her, and then picked up a goblet on the bedside table and asked, "Do ye think ye can drink this?"
"What is it?" Annabel asked.
"A white-willow-bark tincture," Seonag said. " 'Twill help with the pain."
"Aye," Annabel murmured. She knew about white willow bark from her work with Sister Clara. The good sister had often used it to ease pain or reduce a fever.
Seonag helped her sit up and Annabel drank the liquid when she pressed the goblet to her lips.
"There," Seonag said, easing her back onto the bed when she was done. "Why do ye no' rest a bit now until that takes affect?"
"Aye," Annabel murmured. Her head hurt enough that sleep sounded like a good escape, but she doubted she'd manage it with her head pounding as it was. Still, she closed her eyes and tried to relax.
"NOTHING?" ROSS ASKED with a frown when Gilly rode into the clearing and dismounted. He had returned only moments ago himself after searching the area. He had found several trails, but hadn't even caught a glimpse of the man who had been chasing his wife.
Gilly shook his head, his expression grim. "I found the remains o' a campsite though. It was probably someone just passing through. He spotted yer pretty little wife, thought she was alone and--" He shrugged, and then suggested, "Or mayhap he was trying to help her with her dress. Ye did say she was in a might tangle with it."
Ross frowned at both suggestions and shook his head. "Either option is possible, I suppose," he admitted reluctantly, and then added dryly, "The first option is more likely than the second."
"Aye." Gilly nodded, and then raised his eyebrows and asked, "But?"
Ross hesitated, but then admitted, "That was the decision I came to when we couldn't find the man who came upon Annabel that first night on the journey here."
"I'd forgotten about that," Gilly admitted with a frown.
"I hadn't," Ross said quietly and then added, "A fellow traveler stumbling upon her by accident once was one thing, but twice?"
"Hmmm." Gilly considered that, but then pointed out, "Still, ye said the first man was wearin' English garb."
"I didn't see him--just his trail. It was Annabel who later said he was in braies," Ross reminded him. He'd questioned her further on what she'd seen as they'd sat around the fire that night and Annabel had been quite clear that the man she'd seen had been dressed in English garb, a dirty white shirt and braies.
"Oh, aye." Gilly nodded. "And ye say this one was wearing the plaid?"
"Aye," Ross agreed, and reluctantly admitted, "I suppose they have to be two unrelated occurrences."
"Probably," Gill
y agreed, but he now sounded doubtful.
Ross stared at him briefly, but then shook his head and headed for his horse. They were not going to find anything out here and he wanted to check on Annabel. He had only left because Seonag wouldn't allow him to stay in the room while she was tending her and he had felt useless pacing the great hall. Searching for the man who had chased his wife into the tree had seemed a better expenditure of time than pacing about wringing his hands like an old man. But he'd searched, found nothing, and now wanted to see his wife . . . whether Seonag liked it or not.
Chapter 7