Many harrowing moments later, Sigimor held his now clean, blanket-wrapped sister and watched Gay and Glenda strip the bed. He was all too aware of how small Ilsa was. How could such a delicate woman survive all this?
"Are ye certain she lost a bairn?" he asked.
"Aye," replied Glenda. "I wasnae at first, but, aye, she lost a bairn. Twas but newly begun, nay much more than a promise. She suspected. Tis why she said she shouldnae be bleeding and that it was sad. Tis for the best. Twas surely damaged or killed by the poison. Best to clean the womb and start agin. It would have been nay more than a lingering poison in her body."
"Do ye think she has been damaged?" asked Tait as he gently brushed a stray curl from Ilsa's forehead.
"Nay, twas a clean loss," replied Glenda as she helped Gay put clean linen on the bed. "The bleeding is nay more than it should be. Your sister's body is its own healer, best I have e'er seen. The way it was throwing out that poison was a wonder."
"Weel, Ilsa has always been quick to, er, throw out what her body didnae like. E'en as a wee lass. She would eat something which didnae agree with her and, I swear to ye, it couldnae have been in her belly many minutes before it was flung out."
"Aye," agreed Sigimor. "Ye kenned it was coming, too, for she would get the oddest look upon her face."
Glenda crossed her arms over her chest and gave Sigimor a knowing look. "And, of course, her brothers ne'er gave her something just to watch what happened."
She chuckled when he and Tait blushed faintly. "Aye, tis just what lads would do. Set her in the bed." The moment Sigimor did so and tucked the blankets around Ilsa, Glenda felt Ilsa's face. "Sleeping weel. She will be weel, lads. Ye hardly needed my help. Her body was doing my work for me, throwing out all the bad as fast as it could. I didnae e'en have to purge her. She was purging herself better than I e'er could."
"So, the poison is out of her?"
"She willnae be dying of it. Suspicion some lingers and she will be sickly for a few days. I will try to force some healing potions down her and all. She willnae be able to eat anything too hearty, either. Oh, and she cannae nurse the bairns." She sighed. "Ere I would feel that would be safe, I suspicion her milk will have dried up. That willnae please her. That and losing the bairn, weel, her spirits will be fair low for a wee while."
"Diarmot," began Gay.
"I am nay letting that bastard near her," snapped Sigimor. "He tried to poison her. She said so herself." His eyes widened slightly at the way Gay growled at him. "Wheesht, lass, ye sound like a Cameron."
"I am nay surprised. I have been with ye lot long enough I have probably caught the disease. Diarmot didnae give her that poison. Someone told her he had sent the wine. Nay more. The mon may act like an idiot, but he isnae a murderer."
"Aye," agreed Glenda. "Heed the lass. The laird is a troubled mon, but he would ne'er do this." She held up her hand when Tait and Sigimor both started to protest. "Fine, be wary if it pleases ye, but nay more than that. Keep him away from her if it makes ye happy, but, if ye take a sword to the fool, ye will be guilty of killing an innocent mon. Aye, and the mon your sister loves, the father of her sons. Are ye willing to bear that weight just because ye cannae hold your tempers for a wee while?" She nodded when both men grimaced. "Good.
She will soon wake and set ye right, anyway."
"I will sit with her for now," said Gay. "The bairns will be needing to be fed in a few hours and one of ye will have to come here then. Best if I take my turn now." The moment Sigimor and Tait left, Gay looked at Glenda. "Ye were telling them the truth?"
"About Lady Ilsa getting better?" Glenda kissed Gay on the cheek. "Aye, lass.
Twill be a few days ere she heals, but she will heal. The hardest thing will be convincing those two lads that the laird wasnae guilty of this."
"Not if Ilsa doesnae believe her husband is guilty. The Cameron brothers may act witless at times, but they arenae. They will just need some time to think it all over. I ken they are nay sure e'en now for they let me stop them from killing the laird. If they really believed he had tried to kill Ilsa, we would still be mopping up his blood."
Glenda grinned and nodded. "Aye, we would. Nay doubt about it. Weel, I will go to that wee fine room they gave me last time and have a rest. Ye ken where to find me if ye need me," she added as she left.
Gay settled herself in a chair by Ilsa's bedside.
She was exhausted, but knew she would not sleep until she had seen Ilsa wake up and speak sensibly at least once.
"Ye will have a bit of a mess to clean up when ye wake, Ilsa," she said. "Ye are going to have to convince your stubborn brothers nay to skin your husband and hang his carcass on the stable wall. Weel, mayhap it will do the raon some good to get a taste of the meal he has been serving ye since ye got here." She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. "Aye, let the laird see how it feels to be thought a threat to ye. It might just knock some sense into his fool head."