Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
IF YE SAVE A MAN’S LIFE, HE’S YOURS
Ella
At the hospital Gordain had flown to earlier in the day, he was now admitted as a patient.
Not a very patient patient—other than getting his broken leg bone set, he laughed off his other injuries. I made him get fully checked over.
He listened, those gorgeous grey eyes rolling as he finally admitted he was tired.
They operated on his leg that night.
I clung to my seat in the waiting area, so afraid that something else would go wrong. Jordie, his friend, joined me in waiting. James did, too.
In the early hours of the morning, the surgeon came out and gave his update. The bad break had been fixed. He’d need to stay in for a couple of days before they put him in plaster and let him go. Then it was strict bed rest for a week and no weight to be put on the bone for longer.
The doctor left, assuring us that G would make a full recovery, a statement that left me stifling a surge of emotion.
“Can we live at Belvedere for a while?” I asked my brother, shuffling to my feet. There was a canteen downstairs. I’d grab a coffee then wait on the ward until they brought him out of recovery. “Unless G wants to go back to Castle McRae, in which case, I’ll move there with him.”
Nothing would part us again.
“He won’t get up the tower’s spiral staircase.” Jordie gave his opinion from my other side. “Don’t give him the option—just tell him what he’s going to do.”
James tilted his head, his lip curling in a small smile. “Belvedere is as much your home as it is mine. You don’t even need to ask. Live with us until you take ownership of Braithar.”
I leaned on his shoulder, and he put an arm around me.
Then we said our goodbyes, and he went to find Beth in a different part of the hospital.
“When he’s ready to leave, I’ll arrange for you both to be flown home.” Jordie gave me a salute.
“That’s kind of you.” I offered up a weary smile. “Unless he’s scarred for life by the crash and doesn’t want to see a helicopter again.”
Jordie waved me off. “Nah. He’s been downed before. Ask him about being shot out of the sky, that’s way more exciting than crashing on a moor. He’ll jump right back into the saddle.”
But what saddle? Would he take up his old job in the RAF?
I shivered and made my goodbyes, Jordie leaving for home.
Then I waited for the love of my life to wake up.
“Marry me.”
“We’re already married.”
“Marry me again. Marry me always,” Gordain babbled, blindly reaching for me, the drugs they’d pumped into him making him high.
“Loved you from the minute I saw you,” he mumbled. “Seventeen and fucking gorgeous. Delicate as a flower. I was a goner.”
The nurse at the end of the bed chuckled, recording something on a chart.
“Sleep, G. If you’re feeling better, we can go home tomorrow.”
“Don’t leave me.”
“Never.”
He slept, and I dozed against his bed.
The next day, Gordain’s x-rays came back good, and they set him up in plaster. To his horror, he wasn’t allowed to walk to the landing pad, and he almost howled when Jordie collected him in his arms to get him into the helicopter.
“I am never going to live this down,” he grumbled.
“Just like a wikkle baby. Poor walking wounded.” His friend grinned brightly.
Gordain punched him in the arm, groaning after and clutching at his injured shoulder.
Jordie flew us home to Belvedere. We set Gordain up in my bed—our bed now—and I took a shower then crawled in next to him. He’d decorated this room for me. Pale walls and a dark floor. Love in every paint stroke.
He’d risked his life to fly through a storm for me.
“I love you,” I whispered to his sleeping form, then unconsciousness took me under.
He woke the following afternoon, ravenous. In more ways than one.
“How do you feel?” I pulled back the sheets to check his leg.
Gordain adjusted himself through his boxers—the only clothes on his body. “Perfect. Help me get these off then hop on.”
His cock bobbed under the material.
I laughed and took in his features. Clear eyes, determination on his brow.
“Are you sure?” I wanted him. Needed him. That closeness when we joined.
“God yes.” He took my arms and dragged me onto his chest, then laid his lips on mine. “Don’t ye ken if ye save a man’s life, he’s yours?”
We kissed with a hunger made of survival and adoration.
Taking care not to jostle his injured leg, I made quick work of undressing us both, urgency driving me. Then I threw my leg over him, bracing myself on the headboard.
Gordain took both my breasts in his hands, groaning as he played with me. One hand skimmed my waist until he gripped my backside. “Hard and fast. Please.”
I lined us up and sank onto him, ready and raring to go.
Then I made love to him, riding him like our lives depended on it.
They did, in a way. My life was his and his mine.
We came together, loud and long, celebrating love and grateful we had this chance.
The moment was perfect. I had everything I needed.
James prepared a feast for our recovering partners. Beth had been allowed home before Gordain, nearing a full recovery. She waited at the table, pale, but beaming at us as we entered the room, Gordain swinging his leg and stabbing the floor with his crutch.
At Beth’s shoulder, Sebastian flapped his arms. He made a squawk. “La!”
“My name!” I crowed. “His first word and he said my name!”
Beth jiggled him then handed him to me. I sat, gathering the baby onto my lap, snuggling him and putting my cheek to his silky black hair. The last time I’d held him was with Richard chasing us. I clutched my precious nephew close.
“Thank you for protecting him,” Beth said. “I’ll never forgive myself for not being there when Richard threatened him. Threatened both of you.”
“Same here.” My brother placed a bowl on the table—spaghetti Bolognese, heaped high.
The scent of basil and garlic had my mouth watering.
James served up a portion for his wife, then one for Gordain before making up my plate and his.
“God, I’m starving.” Gordain made big eyes at his dinner. “And ye can’t all feel as guilty as I do. How do ye think it feels that my wife needed me and I wasn’t here?”
“Can we stop with the guilt?” I waved my hand. “Look at where we are. We’re all alive. He’s dead. We won, all of us. We’re free now. Finally.”
Murmurs of agreement sounded around the table.
“I spoke to the authorities this afternoon. They said we can arrange Richard’s funeral, if we want.” James paused in eating. “In his will, he demands to be laid to rest in the family mausoleum. But there are other options.”
“He doesn’t deserve it,” Beth said, a flash of fire in her eyes. “That man was nothing but evil. Why should he get his last wish? He did everything he could to destroy this family.”
I glanced between them.
James had a gentle heart. The damage done to him by years of manipulation made him reflective. Still, I didn’t expect the answering blaze in his gaze at his wife.
“He’ll be cremated and his ashes scattered in some far-flung corner of the grounds. Father loved him, so anything else would be a disservice, but I will not honour him more than that.”
We all stared at James.
He shook his head then continued with his news. “The police cleared Mrs Hinchcliffe of any charges. I’m going to gift her and her husband their cottage by way of thanks.”
“For running over Richard?” Gordain lifted his head, bewilderment in his gaze.
That was it. My brother and I burst out laughing. The seriousness of the conversation coupled with the events of the previous days had us hysterical.
It took a minute until we calmed.
“For services to our family, but maybe I’ll add that in when I tell her.” James wiped his eyes.
We ate as a family. Happy and together.
Later in the evening, Gordain and I made our way outside and sat on the steps. The setting sun warmed the stone, and I huddled in close to my husband.
“I emailed my professor to tell her I’m quitting school.” I took his hand and interlaced our fingers. “After we move into Braithar, I’d like to run a production company from there. If you don’t mind the yowling of musical instruments in the great hall.”
Gordain stiffened. “Ye still want to live there with me?”
“Always.”
He rolled his shoulders, his relief palpable. “I should tell ye something about my own career plans. I want to run the helicopter school. Maybe even move it onto the estate. I made enquiries before we left Scotland. I can afford to buy it and—”
“You’re not going back into the RAF?” I interrupted and slipped in front of him to fit between his legs, kneeling on the step, my face before his. I’d wanted so badly to ask him this, but without pressure. It was his choice, and I didn’t want to influence it.
“And leave you for months at a time? Risk one day not coming home at all? Ye ken I spoke to Jordie about that day again—he thought it was heatstroke that affected me. I don’t need that risk.
It’s grand to have my name cleared, and I can face my colleagues without shame now, but I want to make my own way. Be my own boss.”
“You won’t miss it?” A tight knot in my stomach disappeared.
“I don’t need the safety net of the RAF. I have you, our families, and life is good.”
“We’ll both be running our own businesses. How about that?”
Gordain slid an arm around me, removing the distance between us. He kissed me. “One thing is for sure, when we take ownership of Braithar, we’re going to throw one massive party.”
I laughed joyfully with him, and we planned out the details.
Life had truly begun, for both of us, and we were going to make it perfect.