Chapter 26
Although Ronan meant to move swiftly through the room to Isla’s side, he stalled the moment she turned her head in his direction.
Her seafoam-green eyes met his and he forgot how to breathe.
It shouldn’t have meant so much to him, to have her looking his way. Except in the back of his mind, he had almost lost her. She might never have woken up. She would have never looked at him again, never done anything ever again. The pounding of his heart ached at the bleak future he had feared.
Even though it is gone, she has proved me wrong, I cannot free myself just yet of such dread.
“Ronan?” She rasped.
Isla was paler than usual, and her freckles appeared darker from such a distance. She wiggled for a second to adjust herself before falling back into the pillows as though it was too much work.
He moved his feet to reach her quickly.
“Careful, if you please,” Ronan murmured. He gently descended to sit on the cusp of the bed. It gave him a chance to hover over her, inspecting her features for any other harm he had not yet noticed.
She blinked several times. All she said in response was, “Ronan.”
Her breathing was calm and deep, he noted. Unlike his. He was still pulling himself together. Though the physician was gone, giving his word that she would mend, Ronan struggled to remove such doubts.
No one else saw her on the ground like that. No one else saw how frail she was, how broken she appeared. I’ll never get such a sight out of my mind.
Most of Isla was covered up. Her maid had done a fine job in cleaning her up and dressing her in a fresh nightgown that clasped neatly near Isla’s neck for her modesty.
An extra blanket had been brought over to cover her, and extra pillows allowed her to rest easily.
She almost appeared like a comfortable queen luxuriating in such finery.
But there was a bandage winding its way through her hair, a leg elevated under the blankets, and dark circles under her eyes that betrayed the truth.
He hadn’t been scared in a long time since today.
How the fear clawed at his throat, threatening to undo him.
Already Ronan knew his cravat was loose and his garments were most likely ruined in mud.
Someone had attempted to convince him to change but he hadn’t, not yet, not until he was certain that Isla was safe.
“Isla, you are…” Ronan couldn’t continue. His voice was too hoarse. He cleared his throat but couldn’t bring himself to speak words in case he made everything worse.
The beautiful young woman tilted her head at him. Her eyes darted about like they were strangers, learning each other for the first time. Then her hands shook slightly beside her, as the shock was wearing off.
We can’t just sit here in silence forever. Say something, you fool.
She beat him to it.
“I believe you look worse than I do,” Isla tried with a tentative smile that twitched at the edges.
Was she the one trying to make him feel better? Ronan wasn’t doing this right at all. But on the last occasion there was an accident, he didn’t get there in time. He was so relieved he hardly knew what to do or say.
“Don’t…” He paused, leaning forward to gently brush some hair from her hair. There was a loose curl, damp and free from the bandage bindings, sticking to her cheek. “Don’t ever do that again.”
She swallowed, her neck moving. “Tease you?”
Ronan ducked his head. “You know what I mean, Isla.”
“How odd.” Her voice was raspy and soft, filled with a weariness he had never heard from Isla before.
But there was tonic on a tray near the bed.
After such an incident, they were surely giving her laudanum.
This moment became even more important to him, to treasure a quiet minute between the two of them.
“I thought you didn’t care about anyone outside your family. ”
His shoulder twitched as her teasing struck him hard. It seared him to the bones, to the heart, to the truth he tried so much to deny.
But why? He had been wrestling with this for days, wondering how everything was so very wrong.
And now there was a pounding in his chest, a beating behind his eyes and a heavy weight on his shoulders. There was a push and pull from every part of his body like the world was trying to wear him down, trying to impress something inside of him that he had been hiding from for so long.
How could he deny it when he looked at Isla?
“I… was wrong.”
Surprise swept over Isla. She blinked several times, the smile on her face fading away before she started to slide her hand across the blankets to him. The way she licked her lips had him convinced she was going to talk to him more about it.
They should, he knew. There was so much he needed to make right with her. For them. Isla deserved better.
But he feared he didn’t have the words. Not yet, not now. Not while it felt like his heart was trapped in his throat and he was on the cusp of falling apart now that Isla was put together all over again.
So he offered other good news to follow as he slipped her hand into his, hoping to warm her up.
“Oliver, you should know, called you mother.”
An audible gasp escaped Isla. She stared at him in before turning her head. Her hand on his tightened like it hurt, but then there was a tear slipping down her cheeks.
“I…” Isla hiccupped quietly, stopping her speech, as she pressed her lips tightly together.
Her other hand was wiping away the tear before he could do anything about it. The dainty little droplet disappeared. But he still felt it between them.
Surely, they both knew what a big heart Isla had, something he had been taking advantage of. But he knew better. He didn’t call attention to it. Instead, Ronan knew she could use the rest and time to herself. They were both too caught up in what had happened now to speak on anything more.
I will not be the one to prevent her from healing. She will have anything and everything she needs, including proper rest.
“Might I see him?” Isla asked, slowly turning to look at Ronan.
“I’ve just sent him off,” he informed her apologetically. “He was restless and worried for you. Once you’ve both had some rest, I shall bring him here personally for you two to see one another again.”
“But…”
Rising to his feet, Ronan gave a slow shake of his head. He kissed her hand before gently placing it down on the bed. “Rest now, Isla. We’ll all be here when you wake.”
“You will?”
Him. She wanted him. His heart warmed as he gazed down at her, a new feeling of warmth rushing through him.
“I’ll be here,” he promised.
Already her eyelids were struggling to stay open.
All of that blinking, all the excitement, wore Isla down so quickly.
Ronan didn’t have a chance to take the nearby seat before she had closed her eyes and sunk deeper into the blankets.
She was practically drowning in them, but he didn’t dare move anything lest she wake.
He found himself reaching back out to her like he might hold her, touch her, cling to her. He didn’t want to leave Isla’s side for fear something changed when they were apart.
But he stopped. Isla’s breathing had deepened. He didn’t wish to wake her.
Still, he lingered for a spell to ensure she remained breathing. That the circles under her eyes didn’t grow any darker and that the bleeding did not begin again. He attempted to take a seat, but couldn’t, finding himself too antsy.
The room was too hot and too small. His heartbeat had yet to calm down for him. It was as though he swung from a tight piece of string between near panic of fearfully losing her or abundance relief that all was well. Because it had to be well. It had to be. She had to be well.
I can’t lose her again or else I fear I shall go mad. How does she have such a tight grip over me, this young woman who sleeps so deeply now?
There was no one to answer this question for him. Ronan knew he never could. So he finally forced himself to move. Slowly he backed away from the bed, his gaze lingering on Isla to be certain of what to expect the next time he saw her.
Because he would see her. Because she would wake. Because there was much for him to mend between them.
Ronan felt the string snap within the moment he stepped out into the hall. It was deserted, dark and quiet, where he felt he could finally breathe again.
Exhaustion nearly swallowed him whole. The weight of the fear crashed over him, and he finally let him feel all that he had been hiding for a long time. Not just today but for the last couple of years, for all that he had become and all that he had survived.
He only meant to catch his breath. But his heart said otherwise. Thoughts of Isla’s strength and fragility were too much. Sliding down against the doorway, Ronan buried his face in his hands and wept.