Chattan Bride

Chapter 6 - Part 2

"You have your herbs, Annie?" she asked as Andrew departed.

"All manner of them. Do you want me to wait while you greet your father?"

"No, come to the bedside. He speaks your tongue."

"Papa?" she addressed him in Annie's language as she caressed his cheek. "Papa, I'm here. Your Isabel is here for you."

"He has a mighty fever," Annie stated.

"Isabel? Daughter, it is not safe for you here."

"It is safe enough, Papa. Annie is here to heal you."

He laughed gruffly and began coughing. "Too late for that."

"I'll not have you talk like that, sir," Annie interrupted. "I'll put you on the mend."

Annie left to begin her ministrations. "What's happening here, Papa?" she asked in English.

"My son is trying to kill me and whoever gets in his way. Has Alysandir come with you, dear? He's man enough to send that boy running the other direction."

"Papa, Scotland cannot attack England. But I am here to defend my family home."

"Pretty words to say an ugly thing. Let me guess: no grandchild either?" He opened his eyes at last and looked at his daughter's expression. "Damn it! I may as well open the gates and let Gilbert take it all. And what has happened to your hair?"

Ignoring his last question she whispered emphatically, "That will not happen. I will start with one request that will help set things to right. Issue the order to send William away. He is already working against you from the inside."

"Andrew's words. I must see it with my own eyes to believe that nasty rumor."

"My hands are still red with the proof of it, Papa. Look here," she showed him the edge of her sword.

His eyes closed from the grief of it as he exhaled in despair. "I will dismiss him immediately. Now I must ask you what is happening that your marriage will not produce an heir. You are healthy?"

"Yes Papa."

"Alysandir is healthy. He wasn't injured in battle in a particular way?"

"No."

He harrumphed and settled deeper into his pillows. "Damned boy had better see to his duty to you. You haven't pushed him off, have you child?"

Annie came between them and shoved a tincture of brown liquid into his mouth, opened his garments and rubbed paste onto his chest from a large jar. "He'll be asleep in ten minutes," she advised and settled herself into a chair near the fire.

"I... I love him Father. I know not what more I can do to please him."

"Your hair probably sent him running."

"I think he has a preference for black haired women," she said softly.

"What!" he exclaimed. "If I have to get out of my death bed and throttle that man," he began pulling at his sheets.

"Isabel! Don't work your father into a temper. He needs his rest," Annie pushed Isabel away from the bed and settled Richard back down with a little force. "You want to help your daughter? Get some rest."

"She's a forceful one," he told his daughter in Annie's tongue. "Get my writing utensils. I have two items to compose." Before Isabel could carry out his request, he was asleep.