by Maya Banks
“Aye, there are those who would prefer we remain bitter enemies and fight among ourselves. If we had a mind to, we could easily defeat any clan now that we have a larger combined army than even the king. That has to play heavily on their minds,” Bowen added.
Graeme nodded. “What you say makes sense. Tavis Armstrong is not stupid. But he also may not care if he starts a war. ’Tis hard to know what is in his mind until we speak to him on the matter.”
“What do we do?” Teague said. “You are in no shape to wage war.”
Graeme simmered with impatience. He wanted to be out of bed now, readying his men for battle. But he knew he would be worthless as a leader and a warrior in his current state. As much as it aggrieved him to wait, he knew he must.
But it didn’t mean he couldn’t send word to Armstrong and demand a meeting in the coming days. He would take a few days to recover, and then he’d send a messenger, demanding a meeting on neutral ground. If he worded it just so, Tavis would be unable to refuse. He would want to know his daughter was well, and he’d also want to know what had driven Graeme to demand the meeting.
When he informed his brothers of his plan, they nodded their agreement, and relief was evident in their eyes. They had no desire for war any more than Graeme did himself. And yet, if Eveline’s father had indeed instigated the threat against Graeme, battle was inevitable.
And he could lose Eveline.
He lifted his left arm, testing the weakness and the pain level of his shoulder. Fiery pain shot through his shoulder, nearly robbing him of breath. He let his arm drop, sucking in deep, steadying breaths.
“That was stupid,” Teague growled. “You won’t heal if you don’t lay off that arm. You’re of no use to us if you can’t stand up in battle. You can’t hurry this, Graeme. As much as it pains you to lie here and heal, ’tis what you must do.”
“Aye, I know it,” Graeme muttered. “And nay, I don’t like it at all.”
“Spend the time with Eveline. She needs much care right now,” Bowen said. “She’s not well, Graeme.”
Graeme’s lips formed a tight line. “She’ll do nothing but rest. I’ll make sure of it.”
The door swung open and Nora bustled in, her gaze honing in immediately on Graeme.
“What is amiss?” he demanded, not liking the look in her eye.
“Now, Laird, remain calm. Nigel is carrying the lass up now.”
He surged upward, and Teague and Bowen both leaped to push him back and they held him against the pillows.
“What happened?” he bellowed.
“She’s given out,” Nora said. “She ate, and then we put her to soaking in the bathhouse. The poor lass passed out or fell asleep, but either way, there was no waking her and so I wrapped her in a sheet and had Nigel carry her up the stairs. Ah, there he is now. In here, Nigel. Bring her to the laird. We’ll put the poor lass to bed, and I’ll look in on her later.”
She gestured at the younger man, and he appeared in the chamber, holding Eveline’s slight form in his arms. She looked small and delicate in his grasp. She looked frail and it sent a chill down Graeme’s spine.
“Put her on my other side,” he ordered, wanting her between the wall and himself so she would be protected.
Bowen and Teague stood and helped to carry Eveline over Graeme’s body and settle her gently on his other side. She was completely wrapped in the bed linen and only her face was visible.
Nora shooed Nigel from the chamber and then turned to shoo Teague and Bowen out as well. Graeme saw purpose in Nora’s eyes and realized that she wanted everyone out of the chamber because there was something she wanted to impart to him.
He waved his brothers away, promising he’d summon them in the next while. After they’d left, Nora closed the door and turned troubled eyes back to Graeme. She strode over to the bed and reached over to start loosening the sheet around Eveline’s body.
“You need to see, Laird. The poor wee lass is bruised from head to toe. It nearly made me cry when we undressed her to put her to soak. I don’t know how she’s suffered the pain these last days and I know not how she didn’t break something in her fall from the horse.”
As the sheet loosened and fell open, baring Eveline’s nude body to his gaze, his breath exploded from his lungs and he couldn’t draw another.
Dear God. Deep, purple bruises were present over most of her body. Her knees and elbows were scraped and the flesh ragged. Her hip was nearly black. One of her shoulders was starting to turn an ugly greenish hue. There were several smaller bruises up and down her legs and multiple scrapes and cuts to her arms and lower legs.
“Sweet Jesu,” he muttered.
“She cannot give any more to you, Laird,” Nora said in a solemn voice.
“Don’t you think I know that?” he snarled. “Do you think I would have approved of her sacrificing so much of herself for me? I would have bloody tied her to the damn bed and forced a potion down her throat myself.”
“That’s another thing,” Nora said, not flinching away from his anger. “The lass screamed so much when she was calling for help and later when she screamed at anyone trying to enter your chamber, she injured her voice. She should use it as little as possible for the next few days. I’ll bring hot cider from time to time. It will soothe the hurt in her throat.”
Graeme nodded, impatient for her to be gone. He wanted Eveline to himself. He wanted to hold her. Feel her against him. Just have the comfort of her body so close to him. The pain was not so bad when she was near.
It was time for him to care for her. She’d given much of herself in the last few days. Far too much.
She’d sealed her fate when she stepped in like a lioness protecting her cubs and watched over him so faithfully. She may or may not have made her ultimate decision on that bluff where he’d begged her for time to make things right.
But now she was his. And nothing or no one would ever come between them. Not her family. Not his clan.
He wasn’t ever going to give her up without one hell of a fight.
CHAPTER 39
Eveline slept the rest of the day, through the night, and well into the next morning. Graeme held her the entire time, anchoring her to him with his good arm. He’d slept off and on, remaining still and focusing on healing as rapidly as possible. Just having her there next to him, where he could feel her and smell her, gave him a sense of peace. She settled him. She made him content.
She hadn’t so much as moved, and he was beginning to worry. When his brothers came through his chamber door, Graeme sent them to summon Nigel. But before they returned, he made certain she was completely covered by the sheet Nora had wrapped around her, and then he settled the furs over her so she wouldn’t grow cold when he shifted away from her.
A moment later, Nigel appeared, and he went immediately to begin peeling back the bandage on Graeme’s shoulder so he could check the wound. But Graeme waved him away.
“I didn’t summon you for me. I’m worried about Eveline. She’s not so much as stirred even once since you carried her to bed yesterday morn. Surely ’tis too long for her to sleep. The bruises she carries are severe. What if she was more seriously injured than we all thought?”
Nigel bent over Graeme and brushed his fingers underneath Eveline’s nostrils. He put his hand to the furs, his intent to draw them away.
“With your permission, Laird,” he said.
Graeme sent a fierce stare in his brothers’ directions, causing them to turn around to face the other direction. Then Graeme nodded at Nigel.
Nigel carefully pulled the furs and then the sheet away and placed his hand over Eveline’s chest. Nigel frowned when he saw plainly the bruises that marred Eveline’s pale flesh.
“ ’Tis a miracle she didn’t break her neck,” Nigel muttered. “That horse could have killed her.”
Graeme clenched his jaw tight, grinding his teeth together. He didn’t like to be reminded how close his wife had come to death. It bothered him less that he’d taken a
n arrow to the shoulder than that Eveline had been injured, and the fact that she’d taken such a risk by mounting his horse. He couldn’t even imagine the courage it must have taken to overcome her terror and panic at merely being near a horse, much less throwing herself upon him and riding recklessly back to the keep.
He would have a very long discussion with her over never taking such risks again in the future. Just as soon as she was well enough.
“I think she is well enough, Laird. Her breaths aren’t labored. She appears to merely be deeply asleep. ’Tis likely she’ll sleep through the night and into the morrow. She’s gone days without rest and she sorely needs it. Try not to waken her and let her come around herself.”
“Nay, I’ll not do anything to wake her,” Graeme vowed. “She’ll sleep next to me as long as it takes for her to heal.”
After arranging the covers back over Eveline, Nigel insisted on changing the dressing on Graeme’s wound. Nigel carefully washed it, inspected the stitches, and pressed a fresh cloth bandage over the wound, and wrapped the linen strips around and over his shoulder and underneath his arm to secure it back in place.
“Is it all right to look now?” Bowen said impatiently.
“Aye,” Graeme called.
Nigel took his leave and Bowen and Teague pulled the chair and the bench to the side of Graeme’s bed so they could sit and converse with their brother.
A knock sounded and Graeme bit out an impatient oath. But when the door opened and Rorie eased inside, a hesitant look on her face, Graeme softened and motioned her forward.
“Graeme?” she questioned, a slight quiver to her voice.
“Aye, sweeting. Come here.”
Rorie walked to the side of the bed, her eyes troubled. She stared down at Eveline, tears filling her eyes.
“Will she be all right, Graeme? I saw the bruises when Nora and Mary put her to soak. I had no idea. She wouldn’t allow anyone near her. She insisted that all attention be focused on you.”
Graeme lifted his arm slowly and took her hand in his. “Aye, she’ll be fine in no time. I vow it will take more than this to defeat that lass. She’s a determined little thing when she’s set her mind to something.”
He kept his tone light so as not to worry his sister. She’d grown very attached to Eveline in the time Eveline had been here, and Graeme could see the worry in her eyes.
“Nigel just left here and he says she just needs to rest and gain back all that she has lost in the time she was caring for me. I’ll not allow her out of bed until she’s hale and hearty again.”
Rorie nodded her approval, and then she went to her knees beside Graeme’s bed, taking his hand with her. “And you? Will you be all right as well? I’ve never been so frightened. I had no idea if you would live or die.”
He squeezed her hand, and Bowen reached over to touch her hair in a gesture of comfort.
“ ’Tis naught but a scratch,” Bowen said cheerfully. “I’ve seen far worse than his paltry wound.”
Graeme glared at Bowen.
“How are your lessons going?” Teague asked, directing her attention to something she found more pleasing.
A smile bathed her face. Her eyes lit up and she all but bounced in her excitement. “I’m learning! Father Drummond says I’m a very apt student and that he’s never taught someone who takes to it so quickly. He says I’ll be reading and writing in no time.”
Graeme smiled. “I suppose then you’ll have to take over as the clan scribe.”
She nodded vigorously.
“Ah, what will we ever do without you, Rorie?” Bowen teased. “One day you’ll marry and move away and we’ll be left with no one to educate our lowly minds.”
She frowned and a shadow crossed her face. “I’m never leaving here. I’ve no wish to marry. I’m quite content to stay here with you. I won’t have to leave, will I, Graeme?”
Graeme sent Bowen a look of admonishment, and then he said to Rorie in a gentle voice, “Of course not. You’ll remain here as long as you like.”
She practically wilted in relief, and then she pushed herself to her feet. “I must go. Father Drummond awaits me. I think he’s tried to keep me as busy as possible so I would not worry over you and Eveline.”
“ ’Tis a good practice,” Graeme said. “There is naught for you to worry over. Eveline and I will both be fine.”
Rorie leaned down to kiss Graeme’s cheek, sent Eveline one last seeking look, and then turned to hurry out of the chamber.
“Two days,” Graeme said when the chamber door had closed.
Teague’s brow went up. “Two days for what?”
“Two days is all I’ll wait before I send word to Tavis Armstrong.”
Bowen shook his head. “You won’t be healed by then.”
Graeme shrugged. “The matter cannot wait. It will take a day or two, maybe longer to receive a response from Armstrong and then another few days to arrange the meeting. By then, I’ll have had almost a fortnight to recover. Whether I am at full strength or not, we cannot wait to dig to the bottom of this matter.”
Teague blew out his breath, but he nodded his acceptance.
“Have Father Drummond come to me so I can dictate the missive. Then choose an able warrior to ride under the banner of truce onto Armstrong land to deliver the message.”
“I’ll go myself,” Bowen said in a terse voice.
“Not without me,” Teague snapped.
“And I’ll not allow either of you to leave, not when you’re needed here at the keep. Our first priority is to protect our clan and guard our walls well. Find someone else to go.”
Bowen didn’t look happy with the directive, but neither did he argue.
Another knock sounded at the door, and this time it was Nora with food for Graeme.
“I brought enough for two,” Nora said as she neared the bed with the tray. “But if the lass is still sleeping, ’tis best not to disturb her. I’ll bring her something the moment she awakens.”
“My thanks,” Graeme said. “I find I’m hungry enough to eat both portions.”
Nora beamed. “ ’Tis a good sign, Laird. A healthy appetite is a sign of a well and able body. You’ll be up and back on your feet in no time at all.”
Graeme froze when Eveline stirred beside him. It was the first time she’d moved at all since being placed in his bed. But all she did was make a slight humming sound, and then she rolled onto her belly, facing away from him, her eyes never opening.
The furs had slipped down her back, baring her shoulders, and Graeme quickly pulled at them, frustrated by the burst of pain that shot down his arm at so simple a task.
Teague and Bowen stood and hastily excused themselves, saying they’d be back later to further discuss the matter of the Armstrongs. Bowen said he’d send Father Drummond up after Graeme had time to eat his meal.
Nora fussed over Graeme for a moment until he was settled and his food in front of him, and then she sent a look of genuine concern in Eveline’s direction before turning to leave the chamber.
But as she turned away, she paused and then looked back at Graeme, clear hesitation in her eyes.
“Say what’s on your mind, Nora,” Graeme said in resignation. At this point he just wanted to be left alone with Eveline so he could have some peace and mull over the matter before him.
“I offered the lass an apology,” Nora said in a low voice. “But ’tis the truth I owe you one as well, Laird. I acted unforgivably and I wonder if you could find it in your heart to forgive an old woman for her bitterness. ’Tis a sad state of affairs when I encourage such spite against a wee lass who only has good in her heart.”
Graeme smiled at Nora’s description of Eveline because it was so true. It was also true that he held a lot of anger toward Nora and the other women, but Nora had done much to make amends.
“I am not happy with the way you and others acted toward my wife,” Graeme said sternly. “You caused her endless grief and moreover, you made her so unhappy that she wanted
to return to her own kin.”
Nora gasped and put her hand to her mouth.
“I’m not prepared to let her go,” Graeme said in a calm voice. “She means much to me and as such, she will remain a permanent fixture here, so see that your goodwill toward her continues and moreover, ensure that others regard her in the same manner as you now regard her. I’ll not have any further patience or tolerance for any slight against her whatsoever.”
Nora nodded and bobbed a curtsy. “Thank you, Laird. I’ll not disappoint you or the lass.”
Graeme waved her away and then glanced down at Eveline’s tousled hair and the peaceful expression on her face. Her eyelashes rested delicately on her cheeks, and her lips were slightly parted as she breathed through her mouth.
He couldn’t resist touching her. He reached down, angling his arm so his fingers brushed over the softness of her cheek. He pushed back the golden strands of hair behind her ear and softly stroked.
“I love you, Eveline,” he whispered, though he knew she could not hear him. “Somehow, I’ll make you hear me and you’ll know that I love you as fiercely as it’s possible for a man to love a woman.”
CHAPTER 40
When Eveline awakened, she was completely confused. It took her several long moments to collect herself and realize that she was abed with Graeme. And she was starving.
She pushed upward, her entire body protesting the movement. She turned to squint toward the window as sunlight bathed her entire face. It had to be midday at the very least.
When she turned back to Graeme, intent on tending his wound, she found him awake and regarding her with a probing stare.
Her hand went to his shoulder, but he caught her palm and slid his fingers over hers, curling them around her hand. He moved it to his chest, holding it there for a long moment.
“Are you …” She cleared her throat, coughed, and then started again. Her throat wasn’t as sore, but the words still felt blocked and rusty. “Are you well?” she asked. “Are you in pain? Should I fetch Nigel?”