Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Charlotte was scared. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying.
The others had tried to console and convince her that none of this was her fault, and that Owen would be fine, but she could not allow herself to believe that.
How could she? When the only reason all of this had happened in the first place was that she had not been honest and had led William Dodd to them.
There had been so many deaths, injuries, and destructions.
Charlotte looked at Owen, who was unconscious now.
She was helping the healer take care of his wound, for she couldn't stay away, and had been adamant to save him.
She could not get herself to leave the room without knowing that he would be okay.
What was she supposed to do? Walk around the premises and see the results of her actions?
Go to her room and some rest, like Rory had suggested?
She refused to do any of those things because she knew that she would be constantly tormented until she was allowed to be with him.
The healer sighed and beckoned her closer when she noticed Charlotte remained at the door, straining to see him.
"Fine, ye can come in, but ye will only dae what I ask and nothing else. Otherwise ye will find yerself outside with the others." Charlotte slowly walked into the large room.
"Thank you," she had said, grateful that the woman had taken pity on her. "What can I do?"
The healer studied her and sighed once more in resignation. "Take this." She handed Charlotte a small mortar with some herbs she did not recognize. "Crush them into a fine paste and give it to me."
Charlotte nodded, grateful to have something to occupy her mind. She looked up from her task when the woman walked up to where Owen was lying on the bed, unconscious, and watched as she cleaned his wounds. Her brows furrowed in concern when he groaned in pain, although he was not awake.
"Hand it tae me." Charlotte hurriedly handed the mortar to the woman and watched her mix the paste into some other liquid.
She raised Owen's head and poured the contents into his open mouth, humming as she did so.
"Ye can sit beside him if ye want. I will need tae attend tae the others, so keep an eye on him. "
Charlotte waited until the healer had gone far from them before she allowed herself to get up from where she was seated and sat on the chair next to Owen's bed.
She took his hand in hers and struggled to not let the tears she had been holding back fall.
She had cried enough; she would need to be strong now.
She studied him carefully. She could not access the gravity of his wounds earlier because she had been so frantic and had only cared about him getting the help he needed and waking up so she would make sure he was indeed okay.
Charlotte looked at his shirtless body. The already healing wound at his side had opened again, bleeding slowly.
He had so many tiny cuts around his upper and lower body, and although Charlotte could not see his legs, she could see the dried blood that had soaked up his trousers.
She sighed and tightened her grip on him.
Owen had a deep gash on his head that was going to leave a scar from where the man had hit him before he went unconscious.
"Please be all right. I am so sorry," she chanted repeatedly.
She had wished none of this upon him and his family, but she seemed to have a lot of bad luck and everyone she ever cared for usually ended up hurt.
Charlotte knew she was spiraling again but could not help it.
All of this was her fault, no matter what anyone said.
She gasped when it occurred to her that Owen might not make it.
What if the blow to the head had caused more damage than they could see right now from just looking at him?
What if he died? Charlotte would never forgive herself if anything happened to him.
He did not deserve any of this. He was simply a good person who had found himself roped into her problems and was now paying for it.
If anyone was supposed to be in that bed, it should have been her and not him.
She should have known that letting anybody help her deal with her problems would only result in them getting hurt, but she had naively thought this would be different and it would all be all right.
Charlotte got up from her position beside him and paced the room.
How could she have allowed herself to be so taken in by his kindness and charming nature?
She had been so relaxed and had allowed herself to be distracted from the fact that her uncle and William Dodd were terrible men who would stop at nothing to get their way.
Charlotte choked down a sob that threatened to escape her.
This was not what was supposed to happen. Owen was not supposed to get hurt.
After last night, she had seen a possibility of a future between them.
A possibility where she did not have to be on the constant run from her uncle and the terrible man he had betrothed her to.
She had seen a future that was filled with peace and laughter with a man who clearly cared deeply for her, but now, all of that had disappeared.
She paused in her paving and sighed heavily.
She faced a huge dilemma and did not know how to go about it.
Would Owen still want her around when he woke up?
This was the second time he was gravely wounded because of her, and she had escaped unscathed.
She was surprised that his family had still allowed her to stay with him and had worried for her instead of asking her to flee the castle immediately.
Surely, everyone had already suspected she was responsible for what happened.
She wondered what would happen if they found out who she was.
Margaret might have recognized William Dodd's men and could have told him at any point.
Charlotte looked up just as the door swung open.
She could not tell how long she had been pacing the floor, lost in thought.
She wondered if his brother checked up on him just before she saw an older man walk into the room.
By his gait and physical appearance, Charlotte could already guess who he was.
She had never met him, but Owen had told her about him. Sweeney.
"Hello, lass," he greeted her, standing in front of her. "I did nae expect anyone tae be here. Shouldnae ye be resting?"
So, he knew who she was as well. She had not expected that. When had Owen had time to tell him about her already? Although, seeing as she was the only visitor in the castle, it made sense that everyone would know who she was.
"Ah, hello," she returned his greeting. "Yes, everyone keeps saying that to me, but I do not think I can just rest when I know he is unwell."
"Aye, I understand what ye mean. I am Sweeney, by the way.
Owen told me so much about ye just before we heard the commotion.
" He took her hand and patted it before walking to the bed.
"Dae nae worry so much. Owen will be all right, I assure ye.
He is a sturdy lad, always has been, and he will come out of this as he always does. "
Charlotte looked at him, this man who was trying to reassure her.
She could see the love in his gaze as he looked at Owen's still form on the bed.
Charlotte could see that although he was trying to reassure her, his eyes held worry as though he was also trying to reassure himself.
It also filled her with happiness to know that he was loved the way he was.
If he woke up, no, when he woke up, he would see all the faces of the people who loved him standing there and waiting to welcome him back.
She focused on Sweeney, who was currently sitting in the chair she had only recently been occupying.
His hands were clasped around Owen's as he stared at him with a look of concentration, as though willing him to wake up.
Her dreams did not matter. All that mattered was that this loving family got their son back.
"Owen kenned the soldiers were coming for him. Although he had nae expected them tae arrive so soon, he was mentally prepared for whatever happened." Charlotte looked at the old man, dumbfounded. Why would William's soldiers be coming for Owen when they did not even know who he was?
"What do you mean, sir? What are you talking about?" she asked, completely confused.
"Well, my dear, for years the Elliott family has had problems with the English.
Owen was young and angry, and he made decisions impulsively.
He made the mistake of going against them in his anger and because of that, they perished in a fire," he explained to her, still looking at Owen.
"Owen knew that one of these days, he would have tae face the consequences for his actions and pay for his mistakes.
That was why he was prepared. Unfortunately, it had not occurred to him that the day would come so soon. "
As Charlotte listened to the old man explain what he meant to her, her hand grabbed at her chest where she felt her heart beating fast. She could feel and hear the blood rushing from her head.
Her face turned pale, and her legs felt like jelly.
Hands grabbed her when she nearly fell, and Sweeney stared at her with compassion in his eyes.
"Sit down. Ye dae nae have tae worry about him so much. I am sure that all will be sorted out soon enough and ye will nae. Dae nae fear so much." Charlotte stared at the old man in confusion as she lowered herself to the ground, wondering what he was talking about.
She struggled to hold back a deranged laughter when she realized he thought she was worried about Owen because she realized he had powerful enemies who were seeking to kill him.
Although Charlotte had been worried about him, right now her thoughts were not focused on him, but on what Sweeney had just told her.
Charlotte struggled to explain it away. Of course, the Elliotts had problems with the Musgraves.
Owen had told her that much. She did not blame him for taking matters into his own hands.
She knew firsthand how terrible English men could be.
It had to be that he had fought some of them and they were coming for him. That had to be it.
But what about the fireCharlotte struggled to calm her head so she could think if there had been any other fire that had consumed the lives of other English Lords or while she was younger.
That was the only explanation for what Owen had done.
Please let it be the only explanation. Charlotte did not want to find out that she had been wrong about him.
She wracked her brain for any other fire incident that had claimed lives while she was younger, but she could not think of any other than the one that had claimed her father.
A weak sob escaped her when she remembered the dream she had last night of her father burning while he reached out to her, screaming for her to help him. Please do not let this be true. Her mind was reeling as she struggled to grasp what she knew to be the truth.
Owen had been responsible for the fire that had taken her father's life.
It had to have been him and he had to have realized he was responsible, which was why he had so easily forgiven her when she told him the truth.
Had he known who she was from the beginning?
Did he even care about her? Or had all of this been because he was trying to make up for his sins?
Trying to get her to where she needed to be, so she did not find out who he was and what he had done?
She had given everything to him, and he had given her nothing but lies. They had not been attacking her at any point; it had all been him. It made sense to her now why all of William's men seemed to want to harm him.
Owen was the man who had ruined her life.