by Sakwa, Kim
“I won’t be back, Bella,” Gavin said, shaking his head. “Seagrave is no longer my home.”
“How can you say such a thing?” She gasped.
“I’m the reason your brother almost died. And from the look he gave me…I’m no longer welcome.”
“’Tis untrue! Greylen could never turn his back on you.”
“Some things can’t be forgiven, Bella.” He stared at the floor before cupping her face. “I will always love you, Bella. I have always loved you.” He gathered her close, kissing her with all the emotion that poured through his heart. He looked at her one last time, his eyes filled with unshed tears as he stood and left the chapel.
Gwen heard her chamber door open and looked up as Gavin stepped inside. He closed it behind him and walked slowly to the bed. She’d been told of the attack, and more importantly, of the shock it revealed. She watched Gavin look at her husband and bent to place his lips to his forehead.
“I’m so sorry, my friend,” Gavin whispered. His shoulders were shaking and when he turned to her, she threw herself in his arms. She couldn’t contain her sobs any longer, and they were violent in their release. She held Gavin tight, and he held her back with the same intensity.
“You saved his life, Gwen, I can’t thank you enough.”
“If you hadn’t gotten him home, Gavin, you saved his life as well.”
“I only broke his heart.”
“He loves you, Gavin. And until he tells you differently, I won’t believe anything else.”
“I can’t change who I am.”
“Oh, Gavin,” she cried, shaking him in despair and trying to get him listen. “You’re the most honorable person I’ve ever known.”
“I’ll miss you, Gwen. I’ll miss you all so very much.”
“Don’t go,” she pleaded. “Not until you’ve talked to Greylen.”
“I can’t wait. I have to find Malcolm before he gets too far. If Greylen wishes to see me…” Gavin didn’t finish, as if he believed Greylen would never wish to see him.
“I’ve never felt this pain before, Gavin. I can’t lose you now.”
Gavin gathered her in his arms again. “You’ve more strength than any woman I’ve ever known, Gwendolyn MacGreggor. I’ve a feeling you’ll be fine.”
“Oh, Gavin, I love you. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too, Gwen.” He wiped at her tears as his ran freely, pulling her into his arms to hold her tight. He held her a moment longer, then pressed his lips to her forehead.
Then he left her chamber and the life only she could understand how much he loved.
The next twelve days were the longest of Gwen’s life. Greylen lay trapped in unconsciousness, first with fever and then with a stillness that terrified her. His vitals were stronger, but his mind remained quiet.
She soaked linens with a mixture of salt and sugar, slowly squeezing the liquid in his mouth, then carefully coaxing it down his throat. She talked to him endlessly and when she became too tired, his men, or Lady Madelyn and Isabelle, took over. She lost her appetite and now only pretended to eat as Greylen’s men watched. They didn’t argue with her but assured her that Greylen would be furious when he awoke. She prayed they were right.
But as the days stretched by, her hope began to fade.
It was on that twelfth night that she finally allowed herself to crawl into bed. His wounds were healing, and she was sure that if she stayed on the other side of the bed, she wouldn’t disturb him. She laid her head on the pillow, her tears falling down the side of her face as she looked at Greylen. She couldn’t imagine what she’d do without him. In only a few short months he’d become everything to her. Her life would be meaningless without him.
Sleep came easily, her strength nearly gone as she refused to eat. Her wedding band slipped from her finger two days ago and now hung from the cord that held Greylen’s medallion. Secretly, she wished to join him, to find that oblivion he rested in.
She had the most wonderful dreams that night. Greylen was well again, and they made love on the beach as they watched the sunrise. She could feel the sun’s warmth on her cheek and fought to stay in the dream’s embrace rather than the nightmare she’d wake to.
When she opened her eyes, it was to see a pair of solid black ones looking back.
“Haven’t I told you…there are no sides to this bed?”
She couldn’t answer. Silent tears came freely as she stared back at him. She covered his hand when it caressed her cheek, knowing it was the warmth she’d felt on her face.
Greylen could do little more than stare at his wife. She looked terribly pale and deep shadows lay beneath her eyes. “I’ll drag you if I have to, Gwen,” he said weakly. “But you’ve no idea how long it took just to reach out to you,” he admitted truthfully. It had taken forever. He’d never been so weak, but he needed to touch her. And now he only wanted to see her smile.
Gwen did smile at his words and obeyed him instantly, carefully pressing her body against his side. Then she cried before pulling back to look at him.
“Do you remember anything, Greylen?”
“Aye, I remember it all, till a mountain thrashed my head.”
“’Twas a boulder. A large one from the looks of it,” she remarked, brushing the hair from his eyes. “It’s in the courtyard, fueling the anger of your men.”
“Gwen? Did you mend my broken heart?”
“Nay.” She shook her head. “I only made it beat again. I fear the mending is to come.”
“He’s gone then?”
“Aye.”
“Where?”
“To kill Malcolm.”
“He thinks I hate him.”
“Do you?”
“I could never hate him. I love him as much as you, if you can understand.”
“I understand. I feel the same.”
“I know that too.”
News of Greylen’s well-being spread quickly throughout the holding. Well-wishers left flowers and baked goods on the steps, and a steady stream of visitors crowded their room.
Lady Madelyn sat by his side, brushing the hair off his face as she smiled down at him. “You gave us quite a scare, Greylen.”
“You should know better, Mother,” he chastised with a smile. “Nothing will beat me.”
“Don’t let your good fortune fool you,” she said seriously. “If not for your wife, your predicament would have been fatal.”
“She looks worse than I,” he said as he watched her walk back toward their bed. “I noticed her ring rests upon her neck. I assume she’s so far gone even her fingers show the signs.”
“She hasn’t eaten. Greylen…” His mother looked to her lap, obviously changing her mind about saying anything. Greylen squeezed her hand and she finally looked at him again. “I believe she wished to join you.”
“I’ll see that stops at once.”
“I know you will.”
Anna came in with a tray. “Bring a tray for my wife. I’ll eat only if she does.”
Gwen tensed. “Greylen, I’ve eaten every day. You’re the one who needs nourishment.”
“Don’t lie to me, Gwen,” he hissed before glancing toward the door. “Duncan?” he called.
Duncan turned and looked only at Gwen as he spoke, his fury barely contained. “She acts as though she eats every day, but she throws her food to the fire when she thinks we’re not watching.” He continued to glare, as if daring her to argue. “I fear she is worse than before.”
“Leave us.”
Gwen sat on the bed next to Greylen, placing the tray beside his legs.
“Bite for bite, Gwen, or I’ll have nothing.”
“Greylen…” She started to argue but saw his look. He might be weak, but his determination and command were as strong as ever.
“You heard me.”
“Very well,” she conceded, “but you first.”
It took forever. Gwen went slowly, spooning him broth and small bits of bread, careful of upsetting his stomach. She continued until both trays were emptied.
“Gwen, what were you thinking?” he asked. “You’d starve yourself to death had I not made it?” He’d only meant it as a gentle chide, but she turned away. “Good God, Gwen, ’tis true?”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Greylen. This is my home. But only because of you.”
What a difference a day makes.
’Twas a sentiment his wife used.
Greylen always had an aptitude for seeing beneath the surface, but now ’twas deeper. His perception held new qualities. And, although he was terribly dismayed with Gavin’s absence, ’twas only with sheer control and authority that he handled the tasks before him.
Most important of which, the task of cleaning up the incredible mess he had awoken to. He knew Gwen had saved his life and though he arrogantly believed nothing would ever fell him, his mortality had been thrown in his face. Secondly, his wife would rather die than be without him. And, as ridiculous as that was, he could understand her fears. This was not the life she was born to, though she was born to be here all the same. In addition, his best friend was gone, mistakenly believing he’d been cast aside. And as if he needed any more grief, Isabelle was inconsolable, certain that Gavin would never return.
He took the burden on himself, determined to do everything in his power to restore the balance he and his family had known. Now ’twas his turn to make the best of their predicament. His wife needed reassurance, his friend needed to come home, and his sister… Well, his sister needed a good smack in the head.
Malcolm, he decided, could wait. Greylen knew he and his family were safe. No one could breach the land and he’d already sent missives to his king demanding justice by his ruler or at his own hand should he be lucky enough to find the miscreant first.
Greylen also sent word to the elder MacFale, requesting a private meeting. He needed to understand the reasons that Gavin made the choices he had. Now, ’twas up to him to end the bitterness that had plagued their families for years.
His men had orders to bring Gavin home. The message passed to each laird throughout the land, as well as a personal word to their ruler, should Gavin be at court. If he was, Gavin would be instructed to return to Seagrave by command of their king.
Gwen insisted that he recuperate fully before he took action. And though he knew she meant well, she didn’t understand his strength—or maybe she did. Whatever the case, he’d heed her words. He needed more than anything to return her vitality to her. For someone with so much courage, his wife had a fragility that truly scared him. He had no desire to be apart from her anyway, and in fact didn’t let her from his sight. The time they had now, he’d take and cherish as never before. Life could indeed be too short, and he’d live in the moments, not for them.
Compounding everything, his head still throbbed, his leg pained him, and he was weaker than ever before. But he was doing everything in his power to return to his usual physical self, and he knew that began with the right mental outlook.
The tasks he set before himself, however, left him exhausted just thinking of them.
He ordered the table from his study to be brought to his chamber. ’Twas placed to the left of their doors, across from the sitting area by the window. He’d confer with his men there, not from his bed. His wife had smiled at his determination and made a few changes of her own. She had a table brought up as well, one she placed in front of the window where they would take their meals. She also had weights fashioned, as she called them, so he could exercise his arms, and crutches to support himself until his leg healed.
He gave her no arguments, nor did she argue with his demand to resume his rule.
Their chamber became a central meeting place for his men, their family meals, and what would be some of the most incredible days he and Gwen would have together.
From the morning after he awoke from his battle with death, he moved as much as possible. At first ’twas only to the bathing chamber, Gwen taking as much care with him as he had with her when she’d been the one recovering. The crutches were his savior, and it eased his mind that he didn’t have to lean on his men or his wife. He relished her care, though. She helped him bathe, shaved his beard, and assisted him with his dress before his men gathered in the mornings.
They spent their afternoons alone, everyone dismissed after discussions around his table and a late-morning meal with his mother and Isabelle. They sat by the fire, playing games of cards and talking quietly. Gwen insisted that he rest before supper and would lie beside him as they napped together. After supper, they were alone again, sharing their evenings and nights with just each other.
He used the weights as she’d shown him and continued to walk on his own, now using a cane to lean on. No word had been heard from Gavin, and the elder MacFale sent word he’d not seen him either. The old man did agree, however, to meet with him and would come the following week.
Greylen had just awoken from one of his lazy naps as his wife approached him, stethoscope in hand.
“Gwendolyn, if you check my heart one more time, I swear I’ll beat you.”
She smiled. “I just want to be sure.”
“What good is it? You know I’m well. ’Tis you who still needs to mend.”
“Greylen, I’m almost back to where I was.”
“You’ve the body of a gangly boy, wife,” he teased.
Her eyes widened as she tried to control a smile from forming on her face. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“’Tis true, you bag of bones.” He smiled and pushed her to prove his point. She fell by the bed and laughed. He came before her where she lay on the floor, resting on her elbows.
“You must pinch yourself daily to find you’re married to a man such as me.” His words made her laugh even harder. “God how I love your laughter, Gwen.”
“We need to find Gavin, husband. Your teasing has reached a new level.”
“What we need is to make love. ’Tis been too long, Gwen.”
“Greylen, you have stitches all over your body.”
“Force or compliance, make your choice.”
“Get back on the bed,” she ordered, sighing. “You’ll have your compliance.”
“You have two seconds to divest yourself of that dress or I’ll rip it from your body.”
“Foreplay, so soon?” she teased. He laughed and threw her to the bed. “Greylen, be careful, your stitches.”
“Take off your clothes, now.”
Her dress was off in a second, her undergarments thrown over her head as she slipped under the covers and held them back. Greylen removed his shirt and the loose-fitting pants he wore, then held her against his body. He groaned at the feel of her. It had indeed been far too long. Weeks actually, and he had no intention of waiting a moment longer.
“Lie back, husband, while I have my way with you.”
“I’ll lie back, but I’ll have my way with you first,” he argued, leaning upright against the pillows. He lifted Gwen and held her between his legs, her back against his chest, and her feet on either side of his thighs. She made a sound of concern and moved to check the bandage covering his leg. “Shh,” he hushed. “’Tis fine, wife.”
He settled her more deeply against him as his lips found her neck, and she relaxed beneath the gentle touch of his hands. He nuzzled her neck and shoulders, caressed her entire body, but when his fingers slipped between her thighs and she began to move against him, he made his intentions clear. “You’re not to move,” he whispered, “not one muscle, Gwendolyn, or I’ll stop. And I’ve nothing better to do than to torture you all day.”
Gwen tried to heed his demands, but Greylen was merciless. He had her pressed so tightly against him that every twit
ch she made he felt. And he held true to his promise. His hands left her body as soon as he felt any movement from her. Then he admonished her lack of control with a teasing whisper in her ear. “Concentrate, love. Keep completely still. I promise you only bliss in return.”
He was right. It was the hardest thing that she had ever done. Holding herself completely still as his fingers slowly stroked her. Her orgasm, when it came, was so intense she swore her brain shook from the impact.
“I told you,” he whispered in her ear, chuckling from her unintelligible response. “If I don’t get inside you, wife, I fear I shall die.” His words were a caress and Gwen turned to straddle him. He lifted her hips, taking great care to gently push himself inside. Gwen’s head fell back as he entered her, overcome by the intense feeling of having him inside her. It felt so good, but her slowness obviously drove Greylen mad because a second later she was flipped beneath him. He covered her lips at her protest, his husky reply, “You’ll mend my stitches should they split,” was the last thing she remembered.
They remained undisturbed that night, their passion obviously heard by the guards beyond their doors. Anna knocked at some point, though, informing them she’d brought trays with dinner. Gwen wrapped herself in a sheet before she retrieved them, her embarrassment deepening as she looked to Ian and Connell, who smiled knowingly in return.
They ate by the window, the moon bright in the darkened sky above. Greylen held her on his lap as they sat in one of the chairs by the fire, kissing for hours and rediscovering each other’s bodies. They slept soundly, exhausted emotionally from what the night represented.
Homecoming. Belonging. The depth of their love for each other.
“Hold still, Greylen.” Gwen laughed, swatting his hands away. They were sitting in front of the window and Gwen was trying to remove his stitches, though her husband kept grabbing her and kissing each part of her body he brought to his lips.
“You’re mine to do with as I please,” he teased.