Johnny-Boy immediately moved to pick up his mistress, but Duncan stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Taking his place, he carefully slid his hands beneath her frail body and gently lifted her. Despite his care, Lady Wildwood moaned in pain as Duncan carried her to the cart.
In the few seconds she had before he reached the wagon, Ebba had done her best to arrange a blanket and bag into as comfortable a bed as she could for the woman. Once Lady Wildwood was settled in the wagon, Iliana started to climb aboard, but Duncan caught her back and gestured to the old woman to mount the cart. Iliana frowned unhappily, but resigned herself to not accompanying her mother. There simply wasn't room for the three of them in the cart.
She made no demur when Duncan led her to his horse, but waited patiently for him to mount the beast, then allowed herself to be lifted before him. She was extremely grateful when he immediately urged his animal to the side of the cart, though, and squeezed his arm to let him know that as they started for the keep.
The hour-long ride out to the clearing became a two-hour trip back as they moved at a crawl to avoid unduly jostling Lady Wildwood. When they finally arrived, Duncan again lifted her mother into his arms. He carried her into the keep and upstairs to their bedchamber, waiting patiently as Iliana and the other two women quickly ripped the soiled linens from the bed, replacing them with fresh ones. Once the chore was finished, Duncan set Lady Wildwood gently down, then quickly found himself nudged away from the bed and ordered from his own chamber as the women set to work.
"I be thinkin ye might want to build those extra rooms ye've been planning fer so long."
Duncan glanced at his father in surprise as they descended the stairs to the great hall. "I thought to leave it 'til I got a bit further along on rebuilding the outer wall. 'Tis no sense in the whole place being in an uproar."
"Hmmm. Well...I be thinkin' ye'll be changing yer mind on that soon enough."
When his father said no more, Duncan's frown deepened. "Why would ye be thinkin' that?"
"Well, now, it seems to me, what with Iliana's mother so ill, the lass will insist on her stayin' in yer room. And no doubt she'll insist on sleepin' on the floor in there, so she can keep an eye on her mother."
Duncan came to a halt as the ramifications of the situation hit him. His father was right; Lady Wildwood was now firmly ensconced in his chamber and would be for some time. Which left him without a bed. He would have to sack out on the great hall floor. That did not bother him. He had done it before. But he very much feared his father was also right about Iliana wishing to be near her mother for a while at least. And even once she agreed to leave her mother's side and joined him in the great hall, 'twould be nothing but torture for him. With only the three chambers, the servants were forced to sleep on pallets on the great hall floor. Duncan had no doubt his wife would refuse to even consider letting him love her with the servants so close at hand. Good God, he had just managed to consummate his marriage and already he was being denied again. Impossible!
"Aye." Angus slapped him on the back good-naturedly. "It seems God himself has seen to it that wee Iliana gets the rest she is so sore in need of."
"I'll build a room," Duncan decided grimly. "Tomorrow."
"Ye'd best make it two or three, boy," Angus murmured, enjoying himself.
"Two or three?"
"Aye, well, 'tis thinkin' ahead I'm doing. It seems to me that Lord Rolfe and the bishop will be returning soon with that Sherwell bastard. We can hardly make the bishop sleep on the floor. I gave him my bed last time because it was yer wedding night. I won't be doing it this time.... And then there are the bairns."
"Bairns?"
"Aye. Well, ye've been working at it pretty hard, 'tis sure I am there'll be a babe or two to show fer it soon enough, and as I recall, there was only the one room when yer mother and I married and when ye were first born, ye slept in there with us. 'Twas most inconvenient. Yer mother wouldna tend to me wishes fer worry of yer waking." Irritation tugged at the old man's face as he peered at Duncan, as if even now he blamed him for those lost nights. "Aye, 'tis best to be prepared fer such things. Build on two more rooms, boy. Trust me, ye'll not be sorry."
It was a mixture of shouting and banging that awoke Iliana. Frowning as the cacophony of sound filled her ears and drew her relentlessly from the deep sleep she had finally dropped into, Iliana slowly forced her eyes open and grimaced at the light that flooded into them.
It was daylight.
That was not at all surprising. The sun had been peeking up over the horizon, painting the room in a grayish orange glow before she had finally allowed Ebba and Gertie to persuade her to leave her vigil at her mother's side and seek some rest on the small straw-stuffed mat they had had placed in the corner of the room for her. She had only agreed then because she had twice caught herself dozing off where she had sat on the side of the bed, and had feared she would doze off, fall forward, and add more damage to her poor mother.
A virulent string of curses sounded from the hallway and Iliana forced her eyes open once more, realizing only then that they had somehow closed again. Frowning at the pain the bright light seemed to send stabbing into her head, she glanced toward the bed to see that Gertie had dozed off in the chair at the side of the bed. Ebba was absent.
Pushing herself slowly to a sitting position, Iliana peered at the woman asleep in the bed. Her mother seemed undisturbed by the racket. She was still sleeping peacefully. That merely made Iliana more worried. Such a deep sleep was not a good sign, was it?
A second string of curses drew her eyes toward the door once more. Her mouth set with displeasure at such a racket occurring outside a sick room. Shoving away the blanket she had drawn over herself when she had laid down, Iliana got stiffly to her feet. Wincing at the pain that immediately shot from the base of her spine, she paused a bare second to stretch. Then she moved toward the door, ready to give someone an earful.
The sight that met Iliana's eyes, however, when she stepped out into the hall stole the angry words that had been bubbling up inside her head. All she could do at first was gape at the small army of men milling about. It looked as if every single man who had been working on the wall and moat had been reassigned and crammed into this small hallway and was working industriously, and noisily, away.
Iliana gaped at them briefly, then, spying her husband at the end of the hall, she set her mouth and strode purposefully toward him.
Duncan was removing another post from the railing that guarded the end of the upper floor when a tap on his shoulder made him stop what he was doing to look around. The sight of his wee bride brought an instinctive smile to his face that faded once he took in her expression. She was smiling, but by the saints, it was one of the coldest smiles he had ever looked upon.
"Husband, what is about?"
Noting that her honey-sweet voice was in definite contrast to her frigid smile, Duncan considered her briefly before admitting, "I thought to extend the upper floor."
"Extend the upper floor?" she asked.
"Aye, well, we'll be havin' a bairn or two soon enough, and I thought that an extra two or three rooms would not go amiss."
Her eyebrows rose at that. "Two or three rooms?"
He shifted uncomfortably. "I thought a room fer yer mother would be nice so she might visit as long as she liked. And then, one can never have too many guest rooms."
"A room for my mother?" Her eyebrows rose slightly at the thoughtfulness of the gesture, then dropped just as abruptly in displeasure. "So you do recall that my poor, battered, ailing mother is lying just beyond that door, trying to get some much-needed rest while you and all of your men are out here making the devil's own racket!"
The hallway fell into dead silence around them, all eyes turning with some surprise to Duncan and Iliana. But Duncan was oblivious to that. His gaze was fastened on his wife as she roared, drinking in her heaving chest, the glorious color of fury in her flushed cheeks, and the fire in her eyes. Lord almighty, he could recall this same flush of passion about her on the afternoon before, but then it had been from desire. He could also recall her softness afterward, the dreamy look she had worn as she lay pressed against him, her body warm and sated. Feeling his own body responding to those memories, he muttered suddenly and caught one of her clenched hands in his own, then headed abruptly for the end of the hall.
"What are you doing?" Iliana snapped, trying to tug her hand free.
"Ye are obviously overset, wife. I would take ye somewhere where we can discuss this in private so that yer screamin' doesn't awaken yer poor ailin' mother. To work, men!" he ordered as he moved.
"My screaming?" She gaped at the back of his head as he dragged her along, her ears ringing as the men set back to work, and pounding and sawing filled the air around them. Tugging free, she propped both hands on her hips and glared at him as he paused and turned toward her. "Do you not see that that is why I am out here? All this racket is sure to wake my mother. She needs her rest, Duncan. I--"
"Aye. Yer right. She does. And so she'll have it. Work as quietly as ye can, men. No shoutin' or the like," he instructed, then grabbed up her hand and started out again. This time he got as far as the stairs and halfway down them before Iliana managed to free her hand again. "Duncan! They cannot be pounding and hammering in the hallway while my mother tries to rest. She will wake--"
"Nay, my lady."
Ebba's voice drew both Iliana's and Duncan's eyes to the bottom of the stairs where the other woman now stood looking up at them.
"Gertie gave Lady Wildwood a tincture. A war could not awaken her."
"There ye are, then. See?" Duncan smiled at her widely. "Come. We should discuss this." Sweeping her up in his arms, he hurried down the stairs with her, unwilling to give her the opportunity to free herself again.
Taken by surprise, Iliana could do little but grab at his shoulders nervously as he started out of the keep.
"Husband," she said at last as he hurried toward the stables. "Husband?"
"Aye, sweetling?"
"What are you doing?"
"I told ye, I'm takin' ye somewhere where we can talk without disturbin' yer mo--Oh, damn!" He stiffened suddenly, then broke into a jog, jostling Iliana wildly in his arms as he nearly ran the last few feet to the stables.
Glancing sharply around, she tried to spy the source of her husband's agitation. But all she saw was Lord Angus hurrying toward them; then they were inside the stable. "What--" Iliana began, but paused as he shouted to the stablemaster.