Molly was running on fumes; it was too much to ask for a goodnight's sleep. She had high hopes she blamed herself. Jamie deciding to utilize body heat to stay warm was unexpected but harmless; however, it triggered a chain reaction. It had become unseasonably cold during the night. The brunette woke to the sound of rustling and found Angus, shoving his short little body in-between herself and Jamie, shortly after Rupert followed, snuggling himself next to Angus. It continued with Murtagh eventually pulling Rupert by his legs, forcing him to find another spot to sleep. So, it went until everyone gave up on their search for the perfect spot. Molly couldn't decide if they were seeking warmth or if it was the opportunity to have a night to lay next to a woman. The only person who didn't partake was Dougal, either out of protest or the fact he had no shits to give. Molly wanted to say she tossed and turned, but she didn't have that luxury. Molly ended up smothered all night. The young woman woke from what little sleep she had just before daybreak. Sneaking herself from the dogpile, she had sat by what was left of the fire, shortly after Dougal had woke up. The stern male didn't say much to the female but sat there gathering his things, watching the other sleeping males, as each one woke up finding themselves snuggled with each other. Molly would have thought the entire thing hilarious, but she wasn't feeling herself. She felt terrible. Her head throbbed, her stomach spinning, her body ached. She got sick during the night. She contributed it to stress, no sleep, and being stuck in the outdoors. It didn't go unnoticed either.

Molly had kept to herself all morning, not speaking to anyone. The young woman slowly made her way over to the horses as they prepared to head out. She stood there quietly as she gently petted one of them, trying to focus on anything but how she was feeling. She suddenly felt a tight grip around her arm, forcing her to turn.

"What's wrong with ye lass. I was talking." Dougal aggressively turned Molly to face him. She was so out of it. Mollyhonestly had no idea that he was talking to her. The older male's scowl only deepened as he studied the American.

"I'm fine…" She responded slowly, pulling her arm from Dougal's hold. The older male then grabbed her chin, twisting her head this way and that. Pale, lethargic, a bit sweaty. The flu. With no warning, he pushed her away.

"You're not fine." Rubbing his beard as he let out a frustrated breath. "Fuckin hell, ye are sick."

The rest of the group quickly taking notice. "I've always said the wilderness was no place for a woman." Angus offered, throwing out his opinion no one wanted. Turning as he finished up saddling his horse. "She ain't riding with me."

"Will ye shut up?" Murtagh warned. His eyes fell onto Jamie, who was approaching. His brows narrowed together slightly, watching the younger male from the corner of his eye. Without being prompted, he grabbed Molly's arm, pulling her close. "She'll ride with me. I brought the lass. She's my responsibility." He was a proud man, but it seemed he got bit by the jealousy bug. Jamie gave Murtagh a look before quickly backing off.

"You're going to get sick too." Molly managed to get out. She felt his hands grabbing hold of her waist as he pushed her up onto the horse.

"Don't worry about me." The older male replied as he holstered himself up behind the brunette.

The goal was to get to Castle Leoch before nightfall if weather permitted, and they didn't fall behind for any reason. The day went on, but the weather did hold up. The sun was out, and the rain stopped, but Molly, however.

"Murtagh." Molly managed to get out. She didn't speak the whole time. Her only focus was on holding down what little she had in her stomach. The swaying of the horse was threatening everything to come up with a vengeance. She held on as long as she could. "Stop." It sounded more like a groan. Murtagh stubbornly ignored her request. Her brows furrowed, suddenly she leaned over, letting it all come out.

"Hey, Woah, no." That certainly got the Scotsman's attention. His eyes darted down to the brunette. Frantically, pulling off to the side. His initial reaction was to want to get mad, but it was rough a sight. By the third hurl, he just awkwardly patted her on the back. His nose wrinkled as he did his best not to look. "Ye done?"

Molly sat up straight, gently nodded her head. Nope. Immediately leaned over and started heaving though it was mostly spitting at this point. Murtagh released a heavy sigh, his brows furrowed in annoyance, motioning the rest of the group to continue without them. They needed a minute. A soft grunt escaped his lips, moving off into the trees, there was a water source nearby. His horse could use a rest, and maybe if his American friend suddenly died, he could just leave her there. Okay, not the nicest thought, but he had some regrets about his decision.

"Don't ye move." Murtagh expressed sternly. The duo made their way near the stream. Once Molly was down from the horse, she placed herself under a neighboring tree. Leaning her head back against the trunk; her eyes fell on the Scotsman as she gave him two unenthusiastic thumbs up. Nothing like feeling hungover without being hungover. Murtagh disappeared further down, leaving the young woman on her own. She was honestly okay with that. Her eyes closed, allowing her to fall asleep for about fifteen minutes.

Being stirred from her nap, Molly felt someone gently pushing her shoulder, brushing hair from her face. "I'm not dead!" She snapped, thinking it was Murtagh. Her eyes slowly opened as she nudged the other person away. Her head lifted as she shot a glaring stare, her stomach sank. It was not her friend.

"Are you okay, miss?" The redcoat moved back, letting Molly stagger to her feet. The male grabbed ahold of her shoulders, assisting her. "I'm not going to hurt you." He quickly added. His eyes studied the female for a moment. Shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "You don't look well."

"I'm slightly under the weather today," Molly replied as calmly as she could. Her goal was to say as little as possible, but he kept asking her questions.

"Are you out here alone?" He asked curiously, his eyes darting around as if to spot other signs of life.

She felt herself panic. She couldn't tell if she was sweating because of fever or from fear. She stood there, looking at the man while he waited for her response. She just knew if she kept talking, he would pick up on her accent.

"Miss?" The soldier politely questioned after what felt like the longest minute.

She had stalled long as she could, her lip quivered, and the response just slipped through her lips, causing immediate regret on her part. "I'm with my husband…"

"Your husband?" Raising a brow.

"Yes, my husband." Molly nodded. She knew this would come back to haunt her. Her heart was pounding from her chest. "Murtagh!" She called out with urgency.

The older male took a little more time than usual down at the small stream. Not only giving his horse a break but giving himself one from his new responsibility. The male tilted his head back, opening his eyes, greeted by a clear blue sky, feeling the soft breeze running across his face. Kneeling, Murtagh cupped his hands together in the stream in front of him. The water pooled together in his hands as he leaned forward, splashing the water against his face. It was refreshing. The older male stood, wiping his wet hands across his chest, stepping away, he moved closer to a bush to relieve his bladder. He stood there, casually looking around as he whistled quietly to himself. Then he heard it. He cocked a brow, glanced over his shoulder. He swore he heard his name. There was a moment of complete silence. Murtagh stepped away from where he was standing, and all he heard was birds and the stream flowing. Then, there it was again. That was his name, and it sounded like the American. Wasting no time, he gripped his hand along the handle of his sword, storming up the small hill to where he left Molly. Murtagh came to a sudden halt when he caught sight of the redcoat, who stood at alert, seeing the Scotsman.

The English male looked to Molly with a curious look, then to Murtagh. "This is your husband?" He questioned. No doubt mulling over the oddity of this match-up. Though it was becoming clear, this redcoat hadn't run into them before. They could pull this off.

Molly forced a smile, slowly turning to face Murtagh, praying to God he would play along. "There you are… darling." The look on the older male's face was nothing short of confusion. Darling? What was this? It hit him rather quickly. Molly's pointed stare, the redcoats look of bafflement. He would play her game of lies. A cheeky grin slipped across his lips, as his grip loosened from the blade resting at his side, strolling confidently towards the young woman and the redcoat. Pulling Molly in close, the young woman jolted up, biting the inside of her cheek, feeling Murtagh's hand plant itself on her backside. All she could do was smile.

"And how long have you two been…" The soldier started before getting cut off.

"A week." Murtagh happily interrupted. He was enjoying this more than Molly would have liked.

The English male stood there listening. Slowly nodding, he found this whole thing odd. She was American, he could tell that, and she could have found a more suitable companion. Maybe it was arranged? He couldn't tell, and frankly, he didn't care that much. He just wanted to make sure everything was okay. After some consideration, the soldier forced a smile of his own. "Congratulations." He offered.

"Thank you." Molly managed to get out. All she could think was, fake it till you make it. Nudging, Murtagh slightly, making the older male bow out of respect, which he begrudgingly did.

"I will just let you two continue with your travels." The soldier's eyes darted from one to the other than resting on the brunette. "I do hope you get well soon, miss." Adding before offering a small nod to them both. Molly and Murtagh stood there, watching as the redcoat started to walk away, stealing glances at them from over his shoulder, even shaking his head slightly, until he disappeared entirely.

"Husband, lass?" Offering a cheeky grin as he looked down at the young woman.

Her eyes darted up at Murtagh; she opened her mouth and nothing. Letting out a sigh, she shrugged her shoulders before pushing his hand off her. "I panicked." Rolling her eyes at him. She started walking down to where he left their horse."It worked, didn't it? Also, don't grab me like that." She warned.

"Just playing my part lass. I had to make it believable, now didn't we?" Yeah, he enjoyed that. If Molly didn't feel like death, she would have slapped him; she was going to save it for another time.

"Alright, we better get going. Where there is one redcoat, more are bound to follow." Murtagh added.

Molly perched herself upon the Stallion, watching as Murtagh pulled himself up as well. Despite how annoyed she was with him getting so handsy with her, it was hard to ignore how much he had done for her in the little time they have known each other. Saved her from Randall, not avoiding her while being violently ill, and helping fulfill a lie so that redcoat wouldn't take her because they both know if she did say she was alone, that would be it, she would be going off somewhere else.

"Thank you, Murtagh." She told him after a short minute. He didn't say anything, merely cleared his throat. Though, Molly could tell he appreciated the recognition for his efforts. He was simply a man of few words.

The rest of their group at this point were miles ahead, there was no use in trying to catch up with them now, but Murtagh believed if they got back on track, they could get to Castle Leoch by nightfall.