“Then ’twill be easy work fer the men I send to do it.”

Iliana blinked at that, positive she had misunderstood. Had her husband, the man who griped and complained about every spot of cleaning she instigated, just suggested he would send some of his precious men to do it for her?

“’Tis most thoughtful of you, Duncan,” Lady Wildwood claimed when Iliana remained silent. “But surely ’tis not necessary to waste the time of the men who work on the wall? Mayhap the guards you have posted to watch me could—”

“There is only one guard now,” Duncan interrupted. “I sent one of the men to the kitchen to breakfast.”

“Well, surely even one could—”

“His job is to guard ye, and he’ll do so. I’ll take two men off the wall to see to this.”

Impossible! Iliana thought incredulously. She must have caught a fever. Her wound was infected; she had caught a fever and was now hallucinating, she decided.

“Well.” Lady Wildwood frowned as her daughter remained mute, then sighed and offered thanks for her. “’Tis obvious you have taken my daughter’s breath away with your generosity. The offer is greatly appreciated.”

Obviously disappointed by Iliana’s silence, Duncan moved forward and stooped to pick up the only chest in the room that was his. Turning toward the door with it, he muttered, “I shall remove this to my room, then send some men up to help with the rest.”

“Husband?”

Pausing in the doorway, he turned back, one eyebrow arching slightly.

Iliana hesitated, unsure what to say. He had yet to take a bath, and she did not wish to unintentionally make an offer that she was not willing to keep. In the end, she hesitated too long.

His mouth tightening, he shifted the chest impatiently in his arms. “If ye’ve naught to say, I’ve better things to do than stand about—”

Iliana caught a glimpse of motion over her husband’s shoulder even as the words died on his mouth. The next moment, he stumbled forward, the chest slipping from his hands and falling open as it crashed to the ground. Its contents spilled across the floor, among them a bottle that slid across the rushes to shatter against the wall, filling the room with the biting scent of whiskey.

Iliana and her mother rushed forward as Duncan collapsed atop the now empty chest. Kneeling on either side of his prone form, they peered at the blood gushing from his head, then glanced to the door in unison as a lit torch flew into the room and the door slammed closed.

Neither woman moved for a moment, shock holding them still as the far end of the room exploded into flame. The fire spread swiftly, rushing toward where she and her mother knelt by her husband.