Chapter 32 #2
Isla smiled with sympathy and her kind eyes crinkled beneath folds of wrinkles.
“Ye've had some ribs broken. We've kept ye asleep on and off for six days with some of my teas, only giving ye time to eat.
But I think ye've healed enough now to remain awake safely. Calm yerself, take smaller breaths and it will feel better.”
Marin obeyed, drawing in smaller breaths. She could not calm herself so easily though, not when Bran was not there. Not when she was not getting answers. Where was he?
The smaller breaths did help, at least.
Her door opened and her father walked in. He looked stronger than when last she'd seen him, the way she remembered. His beard was closely cropped and his silver-gray hair neatly combed. He stood for a moment staring at her, his eyes glittering with unshed tears.
“Dinna ye go upsetting the lass,” Isla warned.
Father put up a hand and nodded. “Marin,” he whispered.
“Bran. Where is he?” She couldn't stop the rapidity of her breath. It made her head spin and her ribs ache.
He sank into the chair beside the bed, the one Leila had been sitting in, and took her hand. The action made her feel like a little girl again with how his palm engulfed hers with his love and strength. “You love him, don't you?”
Marin tried to force herself to calm, as Isla had instructed, but it was impossible to do so. “Aye.”
“He risked his life to bring you home.” Her father's jaw flexed, the way it did when he was agitated. “You shouldn't have gone out there. You put yourself in considerable danger. Leila—”
“It wasn't her fault,” Marin said firmly. She regretted now having been so confused when she woke and unable to accept her youngest sister's apology. It was a wrong she would ensure was righted later that day.
“I would do it again,” she said. “I would leave again if it meant finding him and being with him.”
Her father winced as though she'd hit him.
“Father, I have spent my entire life giving to my family, doing everything–being everything–for everyone. I’ve done it gladly and with the whole of my heart.
” Her words came out breathy and jagged with her shallow breathing.
“But leaving to be with my husband was the only thing I've ever done for myself.”
Her father rose to his feet. Marin watched him with trepidation, fearful of what his next words might be.
“Bran made me realize something the day I released him and cast him out of the castle.” He tucked his hands behind his back and paced about the narrow room. “You are no longer a girl, but a woman. You've been a woman since before you should have been. Because I failed you.”
He stopped and lowered his head. She could not make out his expression, but it took a long moment before he spoke again.
“I lost myself to my grief, first when your mother died and even in these past years when I haven't been here.
You've taken on the responsibilities she left behind, and those I'd inadvertently pushed upon your shoulders. Bran was right. You are no girl to be ordered about by her well-intentioned, yet wayward father. You are a woman, powerful in her own right and capable of making her own decisions.”
He turned to her and swallowed. “I will not fail you again, Daughter.”
“Bran?” she whispered.
He nodded. “He is being summoned from the practice yard. This time while you've been resting, he has been treated not as a prisoner, but as a guest.”
Marin gave a shuddering exhale and scarcely acknowledged the streak of agony it produced in her lungs.
“Ena?” she gasped out.
“She is on her way as we speak.” Marin’s father smirked.
“With Kerr’s gross misuse of his power, I was able to quickly summon all the wardens together.
He was all too easy to deal with when confronted about his plans to take my castle.
The other wardens sided with me. Kerr will be punished appropriately, and Sir Richard was sent to where Ena was being held captive to bring her here.
I came home as quickly as I could, out of my concern for you. ”
Marin closed her eyes in relief. “Thank you. You have saved her life.”
“She is an innocent in all of this. As was Bran.” The earl stared down at Marin and his face softened. “I have a wedding present for you.” He smiled now, the loving grin she knew so very well. “The castle and lands in Kendal, the one we visited when you were a child, if you remember.”
She did remember. The sun’s heat on her face, the sweet perfume of roses around her in the sculpted garden, the ornate beauty. There had been happy times at Kendal Castle.
“They are yours,” her father said. “For you to go to with your husband. For his sister and her new husband to be safe. I have already made arrangements to hire more servants there and have accommodations made ready for your new life.”
Marin blinked, unsure what she could possibly say in gratitude for such generosity and understanding. “Father, it is so much.”
His brow furrowed with concern. “Are you unhappy?”
A choked cry emerged from her heart. “I could not be happier with your generosity, Father. You have given me everything.”
“As you have for me.” He approached her bed and gingerly embraced her. “I love you, Marin.”
“And I love you too, Papa.” She had not used the girlish endearment in more than a decade. It filled her heart to do so now and brought tears to her father’s eyes.
“Marin.” The deep, familiar voice of her husband interrupted the embrace.
Her father cleared his throat and eased back. For the first time since she thought her husband lost to her, Marin laid eyes on Bran.
Bran ran to his wife's bed as the earl drew away with a smile. The older man nodded at him and left the room with Isla, leaving Bran and Marin alone.