The Devil’s Due by Boucher, Rita (short books for teens .txt) 📕

as they reached the landing. “Let us go to Daisy, love,” she said softly. “Lord MacLean is having a bad dream.”

At the top of the stairs, the girl looked back over her shoulder as if reluctant to leave. Kate set her down and knelt beside her. “Do you want me to go back and see if I may help?” Kate asked.

To Kate’s surprise, Anne nodded a slow unspoken assent.

“I will set the candlestick by the bed,” Kate said, “and Cur may stay with you, just this once. Now hop right into bed and I shall be joining you in a trice.” She watched Anne scramble up, Cur hopping on top to the covers to join her.

Although she hated to pull Daisy from her well-deserved rest, she shook her awake.

“I’ll explain later,” Kate promised. “Stay with Anne.”

“Cowards! You won’t take him!” Duncan’s shout echoed from below.

Anne pointed to the door.

. . .

“Thought I gave you and the girl marchin’ orders,” Fred said, as Kate reentered the small chamber.

“Anne is upstairs with Daisy; I came back to help,” Kate told him. “I have some experience dealing with nightmares.”

Slowly, carefully, she edged toward the man in the bed.

“I don’t know, milady,” Fred began. “Seems this might not be a good idea.”

“Colin, I thought I told you to get behind me!” Duncan’s hand snaked out and he pulled her to him, partially shielding her with his own body.

“You are safe, Major,” she whispered softly. “Safe here in your own bed. This is only a dream, a bad dream.”

“Stay back, lad!” Lord MacLean’s voice grew in volume, screaming strings of oaths and imprecations in English, French and Gaelic, as the phantom attackers grew closer.

Fred moved forward, as if to snatch her away, but that only caused MacLean to grasp her tighter. Kate could feel his heart racing, his breath catching, like a spent runner’s. She had to pull him from the depths. Gently, carefully, she put his lips to his forehead.

He stilled.

“I am here, Duncan,” she murmured. “I am with you in your dream. You are safe in my arms.”

From the recesses of her memory, Kate recalled the sound of her mother’s voice. Although she knew the melody to the Scottish lullaby, the only lyrics she knew were in English. Softly, Kate began to sing. “Go to sleep my baby,” she began.

As she wove the tune, the rictus of terror eased. He began to relax in her arms. She eased into the bed beside him, laying her cheek against his bare chest. Over and over again, she repeated the lullaby until the drumbeat of his heart began to slow. His eyes drifted shut. His death grip on her wrist began to ease, but she did not try to move away until his breaths settled into a slow, natural rhythm. He moaned softly as she rose and reluctantly slipped away.

“A bloody miracle,” Fred said in quiet wonder, “that’s what you are. I ain’t never seen the like.”

“Unfortunately, as I mentioned, I have more than a passing acquaintance with nightmares.” She whispered. “Do you want me to stay?”

“If he wakes, it might be shamin’ ‘im to see you ‘ere when ‘ee comes to ‘imself. You see that he ain’t wearin’ no nightshirt. Naked ‘neath those bed clothes, the Major is, bare as Adam was when ‘ee first opened eyes in Eden.”

She flushed. “Come get me if there’s need then.”

“Aye, I surely will, milady,” Fred agreed.

Quietly making her way back up the stairs, she faltered as she unraveled the Cockney’s earlier words. “La Purgatoor” It could be none other than the fabled French prison, La Purgatoire. Some officers had used it as a goad to their troops, the one threat that would make even the most cowardly of men fight like berserkers rather than be taken. Like Hell, it was a place from which no one had ever returned, yet no soldier doubted its existence. And Duncan MacLean had survived it, escaped it.

A new candle was burning when she returned to the bedroom and Daisy was sitting beside Anne. Tears glistened on child’s cheeks. “Hush love. He will be fine,” Kate whispered to the trembling girl, brushing back tangled curls. “‘Tis but a dream, and dreams do not have the power to hurt us. Remember Anne; remember how you would wake in the middle of the night? Your bad dreams went away, and Lord MacLean’s will too, in time. Now, hush, and do not be afraid. He is a good man, a very good and brave man and he has his Fred to help him.”

How much had she comprehended? Kate wondered as Anne stared back at her solemnly. But the simple reassurance seemed to be enough. Kate held her close until the tears stopped flowing and Anne was sucking her thumb, her lids drooping as she drifted into slumber.

Daisy rose and Cur jumped back up in the bed, placing himself protectively beside the child. “Off with you, you mangy mongrel,” Daisy grumbled, moving to shoo him from the mattress. “Lie with dogs, rise with fleas,”

“We will risk it, just for tonight,” Kate told her, pulling the cover up and tucking it carefully around Anne.

“What happened?” Daisy asked, her voice low. “Those screams could have roused the dead.”

“I awoke and found Anne gone,” Kate said, rapidly explaining what had occurred.

“Well don’t that beat all,” the older woman said, shaking her head in disbelief. “That Anne would go by herself and stay by a stranger’s side. Maybe she was too affrighted to leave?”

“I think not, Daisy,” Kate said, rearranging the blankets around the sleeping child. “She was concerned. Anne sent me back to tend to him. Heaven knows, the child has had more than her share of horrific nightmares.”

“But he’s a fearsome-lookin’ man, he is,” Daisy persisted. “No less with that beard that he grew. Makes Fred look like a picture of a leprechaun I seen once, but makes his lordship look like a great big bear. ‘Tis a wonder she ain’t quakin’ at the