Bedded By The Laird (Highland Warriors) - Plot & Excerpts
Dougal was buried, Mrs Moffat told her. ‘Bridie, if I had thought for just a moment Dougal had been involved…’ Her lips quivered. ‘I guess he fooled us all - but not the Laird.’ She kneaded Bridie’s shoulders. ‘Come on lassie, dinnae go back there, it didn’t happen again, the Laird got there in time. It’s done now.’ It could never be done. She could remember it all now and just lay, staring out to the loch, remembering the lads cheering Dougal on. And she wished death would come. ‘She disnae speak…’ Alasdair was losing his patience with the McClelland healer’s never ending advice to just give it time. ‘How much time?’ He demanded, for he had been patient, he had been tender, he had spoken reassuring words, yet none of them seemed to reach her and again the healer was saying that nothing more could be done. Even poor Mary tried. ‘Please Bridie,’ Mary begged. ‘I miss speaking with you.’ But when that didn’t work she tried something else. ‘I’ve got all the rooms to make up for the ball, all the beds to prepare…’ ‘Don’t worry her with work.’ Mrs Moffat, addled with guilt, stopped Mary there.
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