Chapter Twenty-Four
Flaherty watched his wife sleep. The softness of her expression as she slept.
The rise and fall of her chest with each inhale and exhale.
In a moment it would be time to rouse her again.
He hadn’t moved from her side for the last few hours, and each time he woke her with the brush of his fingertips along the curve of her cheek, her eyelids fluttered open, and she slowly smiled.
It was his personal mission, as of a few hours ago, to see to it that he woke before her every morning, just so that he could caress her face to wake her, see that soft smile. A smile he had come to crave.
“There’s a lass,” he rasped. “Are ye thirsty? I have water, or could heat the kettle for tea.”
She stared at him without speaking for long enough to have worry skittering along his spine, settling in his gut.
“Ye’re in pain, aren’t ye?”
“No more than I was before,” she told him. “I promise to let you know when and if that changes.”
“Well then, about that water…”
“Yes, please.” Eileen shifted, and he immediately leaned down to help her sit up against the pillows.
“There now, I’ll get ye that drink.”
“Thank you.”
He smiled at the brave lass who’d stolen his heart, then reached for the pitcher and poured it into a cup.
Returning to her side, he asked if she needed help, and when she shook her head, he cautioned her, “Try to remember—no sudden movements, and no shaking of yer head. I know it isn’t an easy thing to do, but ’twill help in the long run, as ye won’t be making yerself dizzy. ”
“I’ll try.” She took a sip of the water and handed the cup back to him.
“Is that all ye’re wanting?”
“All I wanted was a sip or two.”
“Are ye wanting to tell me any more of what happened when Nate arrived to tell ye that I’d been injured?”
“Bleeding—not injured. Injured would not have been so devastating.”
“Why?”
Her eyes met his. “You’d already lost so much blood just a few days ago. Or have you forgotten?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t. Speaking of which, did ye know that ye wince when ye look at me face?”
She wrapped her arms around her waist and ducked her head. “Your chin—not your face. I’m really sorry that I punched you.”
“Which time?” She frowned, then winced, and he immediately apologized. “I should not be riling ye until ye’re back on yer feet and can rile me back. Forgive me, lass.”
His wife sighed. “Very well. I forgive you.”
“Thank ye.”
“Do you have time to sit with me?”
“Lass, I’ve been doing just that for the last few hours.”
“Oh, I thought you took turns with Mrs. Castleton, Mrs. Pritchard, or one of the maids.”
“I’m yer husband. ’Tis me duty to watch over ye. I won’t shirk me duty.” He lowered himself into the chair beside the bed, and she sighed again. “What’s the matter now?”
“Are you going to make me ask?”
“Since I have no idea what in blazes ye’re thinking, aye. What’s wrong?”
She closed her eyes and slowly opened them. “Would you please sit beside me on the bed?”
He studied her face. “I don’t think I’ll be able to keep me hands to meself if I join ye on that bed.”
“Would you want to put your arms around me?”
“Aye, lass.”
“And hold me close?
“As close as possible with the both of us fully clothed.”
To his delight, his beautiful bride flushed, her cheeks staining a soft rose. “I see.”
“I doubt it. But we’ll have plenty of time to explore all of the ways I can bring a blush to yer skin and put a smile on yer face, lass. Want to put me to the test?”
Her mouth opened and then shut. “You’re teasing me.”
He snorted with laughter as he stood from the chair, then sat beside her and drew her into his arms. “Hardly. I’m in desperate need of a kiss, and I’ll let ye decide where I should kiss ye.”
Eileen covered her mouth with her hands, as if to hide her shock. The speculation in her eyes gave away the fact that she was thinking about where she wanted him to kiss her.
“I have a suggestion or two,” he whispered against her silky curls.
“Anywhere that is already exposed?”
He chuckled. “Faith, ye’re the only woman for me, lass.”
“Well, that is certainly a good thing, since you married me.”
“A very good thing, lass.” Cupping the uninjured side of her face in his hand, he asked, “Have I told ye yet today that I love ye?”
She snuggled closer. “You have.”
“And?” he asked, waiting for her to tell him how she felt.
“Mmm…” she murmured. “You are so warm.”
He didn’t want to upset his wife, but he needed to know that she hadn’t changed her mind about loving him, since he had failed to protect her this morning.
Knowing her independent nature, and understanding her need to be self-sufficient, he decided the best way to get her to tell him how she felt was to lead with an apology.
“Lass, I need to know if ye’ll forgive me for not protecting ye this morning.”
“Fenton?”
He stared into the deep blue of her eyes and sighed. The lass was making him daft. “Aye?”
“You are mo ghrá.”
“Ah, mo chroí, I depend upon yer love.” Flaherty lowered his lips to hers and kissed her tenderly. “Rest now.”
“You won’t leave, will you?”
“I’ll be here when ye open yer eyes for the rest of the night, and every morning for the rest of our lives.”
She wrinkled her nose. “What if I wake up first?”
“Ye won’t.”
“That’s silly. I’m an early riser.”
“I’m a light sleeper and will always wake up first.”
“We’ll see,” she said.
“Aye, lass, we will.”