His Bonnie Bride by Hannah Howell (best mobile ebook reader .TXT) 📗

"I cannae tell. She's still unconscious. I left Malcolm and Phelan doing what they could." Tavis took a long drink. "She's such a wee thing, and 'tis a deep wound that has lost her a lot of blood."

"Aye, but she has strength," Sholto remarked as Tavis sat down at the table.

"I cannae believe Janet tried tae kill Colin," Donald mused aloud. "She maun hae been mad."

"I think she was a bit." Iain shook his head. "She had built a dream wherein she and Tavis would rule once Colin was gone. She thought 'twas only Colin's presence keeping Tavis at a distance." He fixed Tavis with a look that demanded a truthful explanation. "What night was she raving about?"

It was only family at the table, men he knew could be trusted to be quiet, so Tavis explained. "So," he continued, "I went about for near to six months thinking I had done as she had said. There were times I couldnae look our father in the eye, I was so eaten with guilt."

"How did ye find out ye hadnae?" Angus asked.

"Storm made me review all that had happened that night. She rubs your back and neck, aye, and your head until ye feel near to sleep and will say most anything." Tavis's voice held a remembered amazement. "She learned the trick from an infidel. Without the tension the memory always brought, I was able to recall that Alex had aided me to bed. He took away my last doubts by saying that I couldnae have made love to any woman." He shook his head. "I think Janet had convinced herself of her own lies. She was near to mad."

"Ye and the lasses, laddie," Angus sighed, causing the first laughter to be heard at Caraidland for three very long days.

The rest of the day proved hectic for Tavis. What work he had to do was periodically interrupted so that he could look in on Storm and then report to his father on her condition. When he retired for the night Storm still had only the mildest of fevers, and he began to relax. He crawled into their bed, careful not to disturb her, but her eyes were open when he turned to look at her.

"Janet tried to kill me, did she not?" she asked in a whisper that was hoarse with the pain that seemed to be radiating throughout her body from its origin in her shoulder.

"Aye, lass." He gently brushed the hair from her face, relieved to find it relatively cool.

"Sweet mother of God, it hurts," she croaked. "Is it a very bad wound?"

"It could have been much worse, sweeting. The bitch was aiming for a mortal spot upon your back."

" 'Tis my own fault. I should have planned for it. Aye, should have known it was unwise to turn my back on a murderess."

"I think ye did enough planning." He saw her brief look of worry. "I'm nay angry with ye for keeping it all silent, lass. 'Twas the best way. We are no actors and could have given the game away. I thank ye for my father's life." He grinned at the way she blushed and looked away in embarrassment. "Ye must cease saving your enemies."

She smiled weakly. "I could not let him die such a death, and I believe my father would think it wrong too. 'Tis a man of battle Colin is. He should die fighting bravely, not wasting away from a cup of poison handed him by such a treacherous wife."

"Aye, that he should. Janet is dead, lass. Malcolm felled her with a blow from a fireplace poker."

For a moment Storm was silent. "I do not understand how she could wed Colin if she had such a lack of feeling for the man. She was not forced; it was not arranged for her."

"Nay, she wooed and wed him at Stirling. She was from a poor family and dowerless. My father offered her the wealth and position she'd nay gain in another way. He realized too late how she really saw him. She cozened him. My father is nay a young man any longer. I imagine he was flattered to think that such a young, beautiful woman found him attractive. He fell victim to an old game."

"Ye are a cynic," Storm murmured as she caught the bitterness in his voice. " 'Tis a shame she did that, for I think there is many a fine woman nearer his age that would have thanked God daily for a man such as he. There are a good many widows. Colin is a man that likes to have a wife. He is not a libertine rogue like ye are," she added with a slight return of her old spirit.

"He may yet find a good woman to keep him company during his declining years."

" 'Twould be nice if ye said that with a bit of conviction."

"I cannae. I have yet to find a good woman."

"An I was not so weak, ye would pay dearly for that insult, Tavis."

"Thank God for small mercies," he teased. "Get to sleep, little one. Ye need your rest to get weel."

Storm obeyed without complaint. Despite her pain, she was weary enough to go to sleep, the short conversation using up what little strength she had. She was surprised at how gently Tavis held her, keeping her close enough to absorb the comfort of his strength but being very careful not to cause her any pain. It was nice to feel so cherished by him even if his reasons for doing so were not those she wanted.

She wished she were home safe with her father, and Lady Mary sent far away along with Sir Hugh. It was not that she was unhappy at Caraidland. She had, in fact, settled in very nicely. Storm knew that the greatest danger was Tavis. With each passing day she fell more in love with him. As she fell asleep, she knew that the pain she would suffer for