Chapter Fourteen
Ronan had pushed himself too hard today, but he’d needed to follow his wife to catch her in the act of…helping someone. He frowned at the ceiling as she set a flame to life in the hearth and built up the fire.
He’d thought to find her in the throes of passion in that small cottage, just as his mother had done. But instead, she was easing someone’s misery. Much as she was doing now, heating water and gathering linens to help him.
Shame brought heat to his cheeks in the already warm room.
She carefully wrung out the hot water from one of the cloths and lifted his kilt slightly to place it on his thigh, just above the knee where the scar marked his injury.
He hissed from the contact, then shook his head at his weakness.
His wife had just touched the same hot linen with her bare hands and hadn’t so much as murmured a complaint.
“What happened here?” she asked when she changed out the cloth, taking in the scars on his leg.
“The enemy thought I didn’t need this leg anymore. I decided I did, despite what the surgeon preferred.”
She nodded. “How long ago? The wound doesn’t look that old.”
“I woke from the fever in time to get the message that my grandfather needed me to come home.”
“I’m glad you recovered from the fever.”
He felt her sincerity in the way she clasped his wrist. “You would have been fair in wishing me worse after what I did.”
She shrugged. “There may have been a few times I stooped that low, but they were brief.”
His lip pulled up at her admission. He rather liked her spirit. He couldn’t be sure she spoke the truth about everything, but that he knew was true.
“You’ve overused your leg on your long journey home. It can’t heal properly if you continue to use it.”
“There was no time to wait. I needed to get back. I left as soon as I was able.”
“As soon as you could ride well enough that you didn’t fall from your horse, you mean.”
“Aye.” He nodded in agreement. “Shane would have caught me, I’m sure of it. Or at least seen me properly buried.”
She winced as if she truly feared such a thing.
She cared about him as she did the Campbells.
What he didn’t know was how much she cared for him.
He had a lot of ground to cover if he had any hope of repairing this marriage.
“I was not so bad. Though it’s not the worst thing to have someone see to me.
” It was far from the worst thing and more than he deserved from her.
“You need to let your leg heal. I understand you wanted to get home, but you’re home now. You should rest so you don’t cause more damage.”
He smiled at her nagging. He must be daft to enjoy such a thing, but her scolds amused him. She cared, even though she didn’t want to.
“My leg is fine. Just a little sore.”
“I disagree, but expecting you to stay in bed until it’s healed would be too much.”
She crossed her arms in that haughty way he was coming to enjoy because it called his attention to her breasts. He’d also noticed them when she bent to hand him the baby. He was a man, and his wife was appealing to the eye.
“Aye,” he answered. “It would be too much to ask.”
At his answer, her lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile. He remembered that smile. It had once been open and ready to break into laughter at any moment.
She’d been a happy lass the day they’d married, though he wasn’t sure why she’d agreed to marry him in the first place. She’d overheard Ronan and his grandsire speaking of the situation.
Had she mentioned it to her father, she would have been spared the marriage and the Grants would have been at war with the Innes clan. It was something he’d wondered about all these years. “Why did you agree to our marriage?”
Her brows went up in obvious surprise, but other than tilting her head to the side, she didn’t respond.
“You heard my grandsire. You could have told your father, but you didn’t. You went through with the match. But why?”
She let out a breath and glanced briefly at him before answering.
“It wasn’t like a long line of suitors were waiting to ask for my hand.
Perhaps it would have been the more merciful thing to do so you’d not have to wed someone you disliked, but I guess I was selfish.
I wanted you to be my husband. I often thought your leaving was my punishment for greedily trapping you in the marriage. ”
Unable to bear her words, he took her hand, waiting until she looked up to meet his eyes before speaking so she would know the truth of his words.
“You did nothing wrong, Brenna. Nothing. Ewan is responsible for the events that forced the match. I’m sure your father gave you little choice in the matter.
I didn’t leave because I didn’t want you, Brenna.
I didn’t want a wife at all. I only wanted to go off on an adventure to France with my brother.
It had already been decided long before I met you, but I used the duty to gain my grandsire’s permission to go. ”
“So it wasn’t that I was so unskilled in your bed that you preferred death rather than lie with me again?”
It was good he was already seated, for her words might have knocked him over. “No. Why would you think that?”
“I didn’t, not until I heard others saying it.”
He wanted the names of all the people who had said such things so they could be appropriately punished.
Unfortunately, his name must be at the top of the list. Hadn’t he caused the most pain?
“It’s not true. I’d been a foolish lad who could only think of the glory of war.
I only wanted to avoid my responsibilities and put off the duty to my clan as long as possible.
I’m the one who deserves to be punished. Never you, Brenna.”
“Perhaps we can both give up this quest for punishment. Mayhap, it’s time now for forgiveness.”
“Ye are as wise as you are beautiful, wife.”
She blushed prettily and turned back to the fire to change out of her clothes once more. He found he rather enjoyed causing her to blush. He didn’t think a woman could feign such a reaction. He decided to watch for the clues her body gave for signs of the truth.
She changed the warm cloth on his leg, and instead of wincing, he let out a soft moan of comfort.
It was nice to be home. And to be cared for by a bonny lass.
When she leaned over him to add an extra pillow, he had a clear view down the front of her dress.
He couldn’t get enough of her breasts. They were bigger than they’d been when he’d bedded her so long ago; he was sure of it.
She left the room without a word and returned with a jar of something.
He could only guess it was some foul-smelling concoction.
But when she came closer, he didn’t notice a harsh camphor scent.
Instead, it smelled like her. A meadow warmed by the sun with a hint of roses.
He wasn’t fond of smelling like roses, but it was far better than the alternative.
She scooped some of the salve into her hand and worked it lightly between her palms. She turned to him and rubbed her palms up his thigh.
He nearly came up out of the bed. Not that it hurt, but because it felt so good.
Too good. He grew hard instantly and pulled a blanket across his lap to hide the evidence of his arousal.
“Did I press too hard?” she asked, glancing up at him.
He nearly groaned. “No. It’s fine. Thank you.”
With a quick nod, she touched him again, lighter this time but working back into the deeper motions that had him throbbing. She wasn’t trying to seduce him. It was clear her intent was only to alleviate his pain. But her scent and her touch drove a dull ache straight to his cock.
“How does it feel?”
Like heaven and hell colliding, making me yearn for more. But he didn’t say that aloud.
“It’s loosening up the stiffness.” He managed to answer. The truth was it was not the stiffness of his leg that bothered him now as much as a different place.
After half an hour, Ronan had grown used to Brenna’s touch enough that he no longer embarrassed himself. She continued her pattern, up the outside of his leg, down the inside.
When she finished, she stood and placed another hot cloth on his leg. “Keep that there until I return.”
“Aye,” he agreed easily, not wanting to move.
She didn’t say when she’d be back, and he started to get up when she didn’t reappear after many minutes. It was then she came walking through the door carrying a tray of food.
“I told ye to stay there.” Her bossy tone amused him.
“I thought you’d abandoned me.” His words echoed in his head, and he wished he could pull them back into his mouth. If he’d felt deserted after a few minutes, what must his years of absence have felt like to her?
She shook her head as she helped him settle back in bed. She changed out the cloth again before setting the tray next to him. There were two meals on the tray, and he was happy she planned to sit with him, but when the silence dragged on, he hated the awkwardness that had settled between them.
He knew not every woman was like his mother.
Shane’s Maria had been faithful based on what Ronan had seen.
But they’d not had the chance to be married long before she’d been killed.
Ronan didn’t know if Brenna was to be trusted, but how she cared for him was breaking through his doubts.
He wanted to believe her. He wanted to trust her. But Ewan had never lied to him.
He’d seen the reactions of his men when they’d seen their throats. Every one of them seemed sure Ewan had hurt her. They wouldn’t waste their time trailing after Brenna unless it was warranted.
He and Brenna both seemed overly interested in the room rather than the other.
The chamber was slightly different from the one they shared years ago.
Back then, it had been an open guest room assigned to him.
Now, it looked like a room that belonged to someone.
A small table in the corner held a few books and a pot of ink.
He wanted to ask when she’d learned to write and read, but that topic could easily turn to the letters she’d written to him. Letters he’d not read for worry they would make staying in France even more difficult.
“You should have seen your face today,” she said as if hearing his thoughts and knowing he couldn’t take much more of the quiet.
“How do you mean?”
“When you practically pounded down the Campbells’ door to catch me in some lewd act.” The smile hinted again but didn’t give in completely.
“I’m glad you found it amusing.”
“I’m glad you have so much extra time to spy on me while also making a mess of your leg.”
“It feels fine now.” His pride spoke before his brain had any say.
“Well, of course it does. I just tended it.” She shook her head, irritated.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” he said. “And thank you for taking care of the Campbell family. You’re a kindhearted woman.”
“But you still don’t trust me.”
She frowned when he didn’t answer right away. He hated to see her disappointed, but he didn’t want to tell her he trusted her until he could be certain it was true.
He decided the best way to get honesty might be to give it.
“My mother was unfaithful to my father and my stepfather. I saw how easy it was for her to leave her lover and become a besotted wife. The way she turned them into besotted fools to get what she wanted. And when she was caught, the way she twisted things so she wasn’t at fault.
I know not all women are that way. I don’t know how to know for certain. ”
“I don’t know if it is something you can ever know for certain. Trusting someone is a matter of faith.”
He nodded but said nothing in response. He didn’t know what to say. And maybe it wasn’t a matter of not trusting her but of not trusting himself to see if it was safe.
She busied herself with changing out the hot cloth again.
“’Tis helping greatly,” he said, turning the conversation back to easier things, like his mangled leg.
“We’ll continue treating it with heat tonight. In the mornings, before you go for a long stroll, give it another good rub and stretch the muscles a bit first to tease them into working better.”
“Very well.” Did that mean she wasn’t planning to tend to him in the morning, to rub his leg for him? Worried she was about to leave, he groped for something to keep her in place. “How did you learn so much about healing, or did you already know such things before we met?”
She sat next to his bed again. “I enjoyed healing in Innes, though Hannah constantly fretted over it. But here, Geordie didn’t seem to mind, so Moira taught me, and I would help by sitting with someone when they were ill. It meant fewer hours for each of us.”
“So you’ve tended many of the villagers?”
“Aye. I’ve been there at the joy of a new birth, as well as the sadness of a passing. When I would return in tears, Geordie would tell me it was the circle of life. You hear of such things, but until you see it—a birth and a death within hours of one another—you don’t truly understand it.”
He nodded. “I was surrounded by only death. Not many births going on near a battlefield.”
“Will you tell me about it?”
“You wish to hear of the hell of war?” He couldn’t imagine why she would want such darkness in her life. Unless she thought to draw some of it upon herself to ease his burden as she’d done with Moira.
“Maybe not every detail,” she admitted. “But I’d like to know what it was like, what you lived through. And I’d like to know how you were injured.”
He hadn’t given her the details when she’d asked before. He hadn’t wanted to delve into such gruesome discussion for fear she might swoon. But his wife was strong and wanted to know him. He understood her curiosity better now.
He looked at her hand resting on his skin and nodded.
He wasn’t sure why it felt comfortable to tell her.
Maybe it was simply because she asked when no one else ever had.
Shane knew the same hell as he, so they never spoke of battle.
Mostly, their conversations focused on what activities took place at home.
They both received letters from his stepsister, Tory, and occasionally from Deirdre.
The four letters Ronan had received from Brenna remained unopened in his pack.
He couldn’t bear the weight of guilt her words would have brought, so he’d kept them unread.
But he could lean on her now to know his truth.
He didn’t think she would offer pity or false words of understanding.
She would listen and let him purge himself of the memories tinged in blood.
She’d told him he needed to have faith in her.
He opened his mouth and allowed the words to come.