Jessie checked on Torrin again and found he was still sleeping. The bleeding was slowing, thanks be to God.

"I will watch over the laird," Flora said, ushering Jessie toward the door. "You go eat something afore you starve."

"I'll be back soon."

Flora nodded and closed the door behind her.

Jessie joined Dirk and Isobel at the high table in the great hall. Iain and a few others were already sitting there as well. She wanted to eat quickly, then go back and sit with Torrin. In truth, she had no appetite, but she was growing weak and jittery; it had been many hours since she'd last eaten. Isobel directed the servants to start serving supper. It was later than usual and everyone was famished.

Jessie was glad to see Seona and Keegan approaching the high table, her arm linked through his.

"'Tis good to see you again, cousin," Jessie said to Keegan, his long tawny hair freshly washed. "I hear you're married, now."

"Aye, indeed. I'm a lucky man." He grinned, his pale blue eyes alight as he pulled out a chair for Lady Seona.

She was beaming as she took her seat beside Jessie.

"Congratulations to you both. How did this come about?"

"Thank you. We'll have to tell you about it when we have more time," Keegan said, sitting beside Seona. "'Twill take two or three hours, I'm thinking."

"In truth? You must've had quite an adventure."

"We did. Although, not all of it was pleasant."

"Where is your sister?" Jessie asked Seona.

"In a guest chamber, sleeping. She is worn out from all the travel. And so is Aunt Patience."

Jessie nodded. "Was anyone else injured in the battle on the beach?"

"Most everyone had a few cuts and scrapes, but three of the MacKay guards had some bad wounds. Nannag and her helpers are seeing to them," Keegan said. "How is Chief MacLeod?"

"Sleeping at the moment, and Flora said the bleeding is slowing."

"'Tis good."

Jessie was happy to see Aiden come down the stairs and sit beside Keegan. She was glad he was moving past his withdrawn phase.

Two tall, dark-haired men entered from the bailey, Dirk's friend, Rebbie, and Isobel's brother, Cyrus. Rebbie asked about Torrin, then took the seat beside Dirk as the food was being served.

Jessie quickly ate the roast venison, along with onions, parsnips and oat bread. Although she loved eating with her friends and family, she missed Torrin sitting beside her and wished he was able to eat. Tears burning her eyes, she forced down a few more bites.

Moments later, Flora moved in behind Jessie and whispered in her ear. "Laird MacLeod is asking for you, m'lady."

A shock of icy fear went through her.

"Pray pardon," she told those sitting closest to her, leapt up from her chair and followed Flora.

"Is he worse?" Jessie asked on the way up the steps, her heart pounding in her throat.

"He's in great pain." Flora hastened along the corridor and opened the door to Torrin's chamber.

Jessie entered and rushed to his bedside. "What's wrong?"

"I wish to speak to the lady alone," Torrin told the healer, a fierce frown upon his ashen face.

Flora quickly vacated the room and closed the door.

"I'm sorry you're in such terrible pain," Jessie said, touching his arm. Saints, how she wished she could take away some of his agony.

"Never mind that," he said through clenched teeth, keeping his voice low. He took her hand into his. "You need to marry me now, in case you are with child and I die."

A jolt of alarm went through her. "What? Nay, you are not going to die," she said firmly.

"That remains to be seen." His eyes were dark with pain and more solemn than she could remember.

"Torrin, you must not say that," she said gently, her throat tightening. She stroked her hand along his bristly cheek. "You must get better."

He nodded. "Still, you could be carrying my heir, but only if we wed."

"Nay. You will simply have to recover. I'm not giving you an excuse to die."

His frown only deepened. "Are you mad? I don't want to die."

"Well then, you must grow strong and healthy again, and then… if I conceive…" She was afraid to even finish that sentence.

"Aye?" Torrin lifted his brows. "What?"

"I'll marry you," she whispered.

"You will?" he asked, hope lighting his eyes. "You will marry me?"

"If I am with child."

One side of his lips quirked up a wee bit. "You will be. I ken it."

She sent him a bittersweet smile. "I pray you're right."

His eyes widened. "You do?"

"Aye."

"You want to marry me. I knew it," he said with satisfaction.

She nodded, a mist of tears burning her eyes.

"But I want you to know, Jessie, I'll marry you even if you don't conceive."

She shook her head. "That means more to me than I can say, but your clan would hate us. You would grow to resent me if I couldn't provide you an heir."

"Nay. Never. I swear to you, Jessie—"

Someone knocked hard at the door.

Torrin muttered a curse.

"I'd better see who that is." She slipped her hand from his and went to open the door.

Iain waited in the corridor, his dark blue eyes concerned. "How is Torrin?"

"Come in," she said.

He advanced into the room and stood by the bed.

"I'm alive," Torrin told him, his face tight and pale.

"Thank the saints. I grew worried when I saw Lady Jessie rush from the great hall and follow the healer."

"You may need something else for the pain," Jessie told Torrin. "I should get Flora."

"Aye. The pain is growing worse," Torrin admitted.

His statement alone worried her, for she knew he wouldn't have said it if the pain wasn't severe.

***

"I will sit with Laird MacLeod tonight," Jessie said to Nannag an hour later. "You need some sleep." Though the elderly healer did not look near as exhausted as Jessie felt.

"Very well, lass." Nannag sent her a sweet smile. "Flora will sleep here on the pallet by the fireplace in case you need her."

"That will be good."

After Nannag left, Jessie pulled the straight chair closer to the bedside and, in the dim glow of the candle, watched Torrin sleep. Whatever potion Flora had given him for pain had knocked him out. She studied his breathing—deep and even—and prayed that meant he was strong enough to pull through despite his severe injuries.

They had planned to spend the night together in her chamber. What a terrible turn of events. The main thing was he lived, for which she was exceedingly grateful. He had come to mean more to her than she would've ever thought possible. Aye, indeed, she loved him.

An hour or two later, he shifted and muttered something she couldn't understand. He thrashed about, then shivered. She touched his forehead.

"Saints, you are burning up," she whispered.

"Jessie?" he murmured.

"Aye, 'tis me."

His eyes remained closed.

She took the cloth from the basin of cold water, squeezed it out, and bathed his face with it.

He hissed and tried to draw away from her.

She pulled the blanket up to cover his bare shoulders. She had feared he would have a fever, but hoped it wouldn't be too severe. She might have to wake Flora and ask her what to do, for Jessie would never consider herself a healer. She hated to disturb the woman, who'd worked tirelessly for hours in her duties. But what if Torrin got too hot? Could such a fever kill him?