Page 31 of A Scottish Lord for Christmas
“My lady!” a muffled cry came through the wood.
Stumbling out of bed, Rowena clutched the dressing gown that hung over a chair by her vanity table and tugged it on as she rushed to the door. When she pulled it open, she saw the ashen face of the old nurse illuminated by dim light from the hallway sconces a few feet away.
“What is it? What’s the matter?” The sleep that had fogged her mind seconds ago was fading under the building panic.
“It’s the bairn! I must have fallen asleep in the chair and I heard her whimpering. Woke me right up.”
“Blair?” Rowena’s throat tightened with fear.
“Aye, she’s worsened. The fever is too strong. I cannae wake her!” The nurse’s face was stained with tears.
“No, oh no,” Rowena murmured in a horrified daze. “Take me to her at once!” The nurse and Rowena rushed down the corridor and into Blair’s room.
Quinn was there at the child’s bed, holding her cradled in his lap as he sat on the edge of the small feather tick mattress. Blair looked impossibly small and frail in his large arms. Sweat-soaked strands of hair clung to the girl’s forehead and neck. Rowena rushed over to them, kneeling in front of Quinn so she could see Blair better.
“Her breathing is too shallow.” His hoarse whisper was choked with pain and Rowena’s eyes stung with tears.
“You need to get Dr. McIntosh. I’ll stay with her,” Rowena promised him, curling her hands around his upper arms.
“I cannae leave her.” His brogue thickened as he gasped out the words.
“You must. You’re the only one who can reach the doctor in time. I’ll have the nurse wake Kenna and we will take care of her.” Rowena summoned her inner strength. She could not fail Quinn, not now. This was what she had come here to do, to save him and his child.
“Quinn, get the doctor,” she ordered firmly, and before he could protest, she slipped Blair out of his hold and into her own arms. Losing Blair put Quinn into a state of action. He gave himself a little shake and stood.
“Don’t let her…” He didn’t finish but Rowena knew what he was trying to say.Don’t let her die.
“She’ll be here when you return.” Rowena prayed silently that if God was listening, he would answer this one prayer if nothing else.Let her live. Please.
Her husband gave a shaky nod and then rushed from the room. Rowena acted instantly. She set Blair back down in her bed and turned to the nurse.
“Wake Kenna at once. Then bring me cold compresses, some ice chips in a bowl, and warm broth.”
The old nurse hastily departed. Rowena removed Blair’s sweat-drenched nightgown and retrieved a dry cloth and the basin of fresh water from the washstand. She used the cloth to bathe Blair’s skin, hoping the cool but not too cold water would bring down her body temperature. By the time the nurse and Kenna returned, Rowena had washed Blair completely, had combed her hair and pulled it back in a knot away from her face and neck, and had changed her into a clean, light nightgown.
“She’s a little better, I think,” Rowena whispered to Kenna as Quinn’s sister took in the sick child with wide, worried eyes.
“Oh, Rowena, if we lose her…” She covered her mouth with the back of her hand.
If they lost Blair, they would lose Quinn.
“We won’t,” Rowena vowed. She refused to accept that Blair wouldn’t get better.
I will do anything I must to keep her safe and well.The fierce protectiveness she felt toward the little girl was overpowering. She may not have given birth to Blair, but Blair was her child now in every way that mattered.
Rowena and Kenna kept a silent vigil at Blair’s bedside while they waited for the doctor. When the nurse brought ice chips, they took turns feeding them to Blair by slipping them into her mouth. The girl stirred each time, fussing, but she accepted the little pieces of ice.
“She must continue to take water. The ice chips will help,” Rowena explained.
“How do you know all of this?” Kenna asked.
Rowena shrugged. “I had a habit of nursing wounded animals when I was younger. Often, many illnesses are conquered by having the body’s temperature lowered and fluids in the body maintained. Water is crucial.” She thought of the small fawn she’d nursed back to health a few years before. She and her father had kept it alive in an empty stall in the family stables. She’d fed it a bottle of cow’s milk and massaged its weak limbs. After nearly a week, she’d feared the fawn would perish, but it rallied and she and her father were able to turn it loose in the woods.
“She seems to be doing better,” Kenna whispered, her eyes fixed on the child’s face lit by firelight.
“Yes, I think so,” Rowena agreed, and pressed another cool cloth to Blair’s forehead.
The door to Blair’s room burst open a few moments later as Quinn and a handsome young man with dark hair came inside. The second man, Dr. McIntosh, held a black medical bag. He immediately set the bag down on the bed next to Rowena and removed his coat, tossing it to the floor, uncaring, as he set about examining his patient.
