"Well, surely he would not leave?"
"Nay," Iliana agreed, and her mother's eyes widened with understanding. The guard was either dead or unconscious.
Turning away from her stark expression, Iliana peered toward the fire devouring the room. Smoke was rolling across the ceiling above and she could see that her chests were already in flames. Soon the blaze would reach Duncan's feet. The heat almost unbearable, Iliana glanced frantically around the small section of room that was not yet on fire.
Lady Wildwood began to pound at the door again, screaming for assistance, but impatience covered her face when she saw that her daughter had moved to the bedside. "What do you? We must get some attention here."
"The castle is practically empty, Mama. The women are out fetching fresh rushes and the men are out practicing in the bailey. No one will hear us."
Already pale with fear, Lady Wildwood blanched further. Whipping the linen off the bed, Iliana hurried to drop it in the water she had used earlier for her ablutions, then just as swiftly pulled the soaking material out and moved toward the fire to beat at the flames with it. Her main concern was to keep the flames away from Duncan; they were far too close to his inert body for her liking.
Lady Wildwood quickly moved to collect the bottom linens from the bed. After dampening them with what little water was left in the bowl, she moved to her daughter's side, but Iliana shook her head and waved her away.
"Yell out the window," she ordered, coughing. "We must get someone's attention."
Wrapping herself in the wet sheet, Lady Wildwood hurried to the window and screamed at the men who worked below.
"They are coming," she gasped a moment later, returning to Iliana's side and adding her own efforts to battle the fire.
All of her concentration on the task she had set for herself, Iliana did not spare the energy needed to acknowledge her mother's words.
The heat was scorching. The smoke, thick and black, was stealing her breath away, hampering her efforts at fighting the flames. And hacking coughs were wracking her body as the acrid air burnt her lungs. Iliana had never experienced fire before in such a manner; it seemed almost to be alive. She would beat at one spot, damping the flames there, only to find them turning their attack and seeming almost to try to run past her. It was a war she could not win and had little hope of holding off for any length of time at all did help not come soon. Iliana had already been forced backward to stand directly before her husband as she fought the flames. She was managing to slow the spread somewhat, but not by much. In a moment she would be tripping over her husband's legs.
"Dun-can." The name came out on Iliana's cough, but her mother seemed to understand. Giving up her weak efforts to aid in combating the fire, Lady Wildwood began tugging his legs sideways, trying to shift them out of Iliana's path. She had managed to move them a bare few inches when they both heard shouts and feet pounding up the hallway. In the next second, the door crashed open and cool air rushed into the chamber. As if in response, the fire Iliana faced jumped up and forward with a roar of fury.
Crying out, she stumbled backward, tripping over her husband's legs and tumbling to the floor as her skirts went up in flames. She heard her mother's scream join her own; then something heavy crashed down upon her, knocking the air out of her lungs and sending her head bouncing back against the floor.
Chapter Sixteen
"She's awakening."
Iliana opened her eyes at those words, wincing at the pain reverberating within her head as she squinted against the light in the room.
"Thank God!"
Angus and her mother suddenly appeared above her from opposite sides, worry apparent on their faces as they peered down at her.
"Are ye a'right, lass? Ye took a fair knock."
Iliana blinked at those words from Angus, confusion her first reaction until she noticed the burning pain in her lungs and recalled the fire.
"Duncan?" The name came out on a croak, and Iliana winced as she became aware of the pain in her throat as well.
"He is fine." Tears of relief filling her eyes, Lady Wildwood patted her shoulder. "And you shall be too, now."
"Aye," Angus agreed, his own relief apparent. "'Tis lucky ye are. The room went up like a torch."
Iliana closed her eyes at that, frowning. "I have never seen a fire spread so quickly."
"Aye, well, it seems uisgebeatha is fair flammable."
Iliana's eyes opened at that. "Uisgebeatha?"
"The bottle that rolled out of Duncan's chest and smashed into the wall," her mother explained. "'Twas uisgebeatha. Whiskey. Angus thinks 'tis why the fire spread so quickly. The liquid went everywhere when the bottle shattered."
"Aye, it did."
"Hmmm. Well, that bottle was his birth batch."
Her eyebrows rose at that. "Birth batch?"
"Aye. 'Tis a tradition me father's father started. A batch of uisgebeatha is made the day the heir to the chieftain is born and a bottle of it is given to 'em to save 'til the day he takes over. Then he mourns his father's passing and his own raise in position with it."
Iliana had already come to the conclusion that the Scots, or at least these particular Scots, used any excuse they could to drink. Still, the bottle had been saved since his birth, and he would most likely be furious at its loss. "Is Duncan very upset?"
"He doesn't even ken yet. He hasn't awoken." At Iliana's sudden alarm, he patted her arm reassuringly. "Don't fash yersel'. He took a mighty kosh on the head is all. He'll wake soon enough. In truth, he came through better than ye, I think."
Iliana blinked at that. "What mean you, my lord? I was not harmed, other than the knock on the head, and I am already awake."
"Aye. That's true enough. Ye took no other injury.... But ye do look kinda funny."
Eyes shooting anxiously to her mother, she caught her glaring at Lord Angus and felt her anxiety increase.
"'Tis your hair, dear," Lady Wildwood murmured in resignation, catching Iliana's expression. "I fear 'tis a mite melted."
"Melted?" Iliana's eyes rounded at that.
"Aye, and ye've no eyebrows or lashes to speak of," Angus added for good measure, his smile becoming more sincere. Then, seeing her dismay, he cleared his throat. "Yer still bonnie to me, lass. 'Sides, the hair'll doubtless grow back."
"Where is she?"
They all stilled at that roar from the hallway. Then the door crashed open and both her mother and Angus straightened to turn toward the sound.
Recognizing her husband's voice, Iliana felt a rush of both relief and panic. Relief because it was obvious from the strength of his voice that Duncan was truly all right, and panic because she did not wish him to see her if what Lord Angus said was true. Her hair was melted and her eyebrows and eyelashes had been singed off by the fire? She could not even imagine the sight she must be.
Grabbing for the bed linens that had been drawn up to her chin, she jerked them childishly over her head and closed her eyes as she heard him stomp across the room.
Duncan's heart seemed to pause its pumping in his chest as his father stepped aside and he saw the linen drawn up over the form on the bed. He had awoken only moments before to find himself in his father's bed, his head pounding with a vicious beat that seemed to make his very teeth ache. Allistair and Ebba had been standing on either side of him. His cousin had managed a smile of relief when his eyes opened, then announced he would go inform Angus that he was awake. But Duncan had called him back as he moved away and questioned what had happened.
The explanations had stunned him mightily. He recalled standing in the doorway to his own chamber, about to leave, but that
was all. Being told that someone had apparently struck him over the head and tossed a lit torch and bottle of uisgebeatha into the room, then blocked him, his mother-in-law, and his wife into the room to die a fiery death had been a shock. Learning that Iliana had tried to fend off the fire with wet linen while her mother shouted out the window for help had raised some pride in him for her ingenious thinking. But when Allistair had told him that Iliana had been engulfed by flames when they crashed into the room, nothing could have kept him in the bed. Not the throbbing in his head, not the dizziness that had assailed him as he rose, nor the way his vision had blurred frighteningly as he had stumbled out into the hall.
Only the sight of her shrouded body could bring him to a halt as the fact hit him that she was dead. He should not be so affected by her death, he knew. She had not been a good wife. She'd refused him his rights and done exactly as she'd pleased despite his orders to the contrary. And yet, his brain seemed suddenly full of her. He recalled with crystal clarity the day she had arrived. He remembered her false bravado as she had refused him his rights the morning after their wedding, saw her face alive with intelligence and good humor as she had spoken with Lady McInnes, smelled the flowery scent that clung to her and felt her in his arms, shivering with desire. He heard her passionate moans in his ears, followed by breathless laughter as he had...loved her? Aye, he'd loved her.
Swallowing thickly, he took the last step to the bed and tugged the linen slowly down to reveal her features now. He did not know what he expected. Charred flesh, he supposed. The rancid stench of death...He certainly did not expect to see her lying with her eyes clenched shut and her nostrils flaring as she breathed.
"Yer alive!"
Iliana's eyes blinked open in surprise. It had not occurred to her that her husband might assume she was dead. Now, however, the stunned little-lost-boy-quality to his voice drew her eyes to his face. Relief, joy, then confusion flickered over his face before settling finally into a perplexed frown.
"What be the matter with ye? Ye look funny somehow." Tilting his head to the side, he narrowed his gaze, noting the hair that usually flowed sweet and fresh about her head appeared to have shrunk and melted somewhat. There were clumps of it laying about her pillow. From the fire, he realized, but could not pinpoint what else it was about her that looked so odd. Then it struck him. "Yer eyebrows and lashes are gone!"