Chapter 19
POV: Callum?
Exhausted, I pulled Sorsha onto my chest and tucked a blanket around her. I had never been so afraid in my life. When I found her in the lounge, her breaths were barely there—faint inhales, with too much silence in between.
It had to be the tea. And with her size… Gods, I hadn’t known what to do. I’d plunged her into ice-cold water, desperate the shock would rouse her, but even that hadn’t worked the way I’d hoped.
I’d poured water down her throat, half certain I might drown her in the process.
Now, listening to the steady rise and fall of her chest, I finally let out a shaky sigh of relief, holding her tighter. The rest of the night, I drifted in and out of sleep, never truly at peace.
Sunlight streamed into the room long before I was ready to wake. Sorsha stirred, her breathing calm and sure. One hand curled on my chest, then slipped lower to my stomach—my body responding instantly. That was the last thing I needed.
I tried to ease away, carefully sliding out from under her, but she threw a leg across mine, trapping me. My teeth clenched.
Her lashes fluttered, and then her eyes caught mine. For a heartbeat, she stared blankly, and then realization struck. She jolted upright onto her knees, cheeks flushed bright red.
“I didn’t do this, did I?” she whispered.
I shook my head. “Not this. But you did far worse.”
Her brows knitted—then she gasped.
“Remember now?” I asked, chiding.
“I tried the tea.”
“Exactly. And you almost died.” I dragged a hand through my hair, the memory still rattling me. “You stopped breathing.”
“Ah.” She looked down, twisting her fingers in her lap. “That’s why you dunked me in water?”
“Yes. To shock your system.”
A giggle escaped her, and my brows shot up.
“I thought you were trying to drown me.”
Our eyes met, and she broke into laughter.
“It’s not funny,” I countered sharply, sitting up.
She toppled backward, clutching her stomach, laughing until tears streaked down her temples.
“I even dreamed Mabel could speak,” she managed between gasps of laughter.
I pulled her upright, my expression stern, and she bit back her laughter, but an irrepressible smile still clung to her face.
“Can we have oats for breakfast?” she asked suddenly, shifting the subject.
“Wow, you’re so good at deflecting, my head is spinning.”
“Speaking of your head,” she said, tilting hers, “I see your eye is almost back to normal. How did you hide these injuries from everyone all these years?”
Rising to my feet and tugging her with me, I bent and brushed my lips lightly against hers. “I stayed home until the bruises were gone. My turn for a question. Why did you try the tea when I told you it was for men, and you knew it helps keep me in check?”
“I just wanted to see what it does.” She smiled sweetly.
I shook my head and closed my eyes as if in prayer. “Get dressed if you want oats.”
She darted from the room as if yesterday hadn’t happened, and I could only marvel at her uncanny ability to bounce back.
Dressing quickly, I set oats to boil and tried to gather my thoughts. I had an order of knives waiting, along with a few chores around the house.
I debated whether to lower the clothes rail in the spare room, but hesitated—because what I truly wanted was Sorsha in my room. If I fixed it, she might think I meant for her to stay there forever.
I went looking for her, wondering why it was taking so long to dress, and found her folding laundry outside.
“Do you want me to put this away?” she asked, holding a stack of my clothes.
“Please. It’s our house, my room is yours,” I said, hoping she’d get the hint.
She blushed and pushed past me, but I noticed the mother-of-pearl hairpin glinting in her hair—and that pleased me inordinately.
I dished up the oats and set the cane sugar within reach. She seemed to favor sweet things. When she walked in, though, she froze in horror, hands flying to her breast. My mouth went dry, and I swallowed audibly.
“What’s wrong?” I forced out, my eyes locked on her breasts—breasts I’d stripped bare yesterday when I undressed her, though my mind had been consumed with whether she would draw another breath.
Still, the sight had branded itself into me, and now the memory roared back, hotter than I wanted to admit.
“My money pouch—the ten crowns. Oh no…” Her voice broke off, and she stared at me, stricken.
Ah. Now I understood. “In the bathroom,” I said.
She sagged in relief, rushing away and back again in seconds, the pouch clutched tight before she set it on the table.
“I thought it was gone,” she breathed, dropping sugar into her oats.
“So what if it was?”
“Huh? There’s something wrong with you,” she said with a pout.
“I know, I’m a berserker,” I began, and she shot me a dirty look as if to say that’s not what she meant. “It’s just money.”
“Hmpf. You only say that because you’ve always had.” She spooned oats into her mouth, then tilted her head at me. “How much money do you have?”
Curious eyes met mine.
“One hundred and fifty crowns, give or take.”
She stared.
“You don’t believe me?”
She shook her head. “No one has that much money. How much did you give my father?”
“Fifty.”
“Fifty?” she squeaked, eyes wide. “Fifty crowns?”
I nodded.
“I was expecting him at your door already, but I never in a million years thought you’d give them so much.”
“Your father signed the contract.”
“Yes, I know, but he’ll just ignore that.”
She concentrated on her oats, the frown deepening until she banged her spoon against the table and looked at me like my teacher used to before a scolding.
“Sorsha?” I said carefully.
“Fifty crowns was stupid of you.”
Stupid? Nice… “Why? I wanted to make sure they left you alone.”
“Yes, but my father isn’t stupid. He’ll have reasoned that if you could hand over fifty, you must have far more—which you do. You should have given him ten, then he’d deduce you only had fifty.”
She knew her father well, and her reasoning was sound. How long before he turned up at my door—or worse, waylaid Sorsha when the money ran out, coming to beg? But spending fifty crowns would take time; it was a small fortune.
“You’re quite good with numbers, aren’t you? I think it’s high time you learned to read. But for that, we’ll need paper, and you can only buy it at Garth’s. Unfortunately, I can’t come with you today.”
“Hmm. I don’t need you to come with me. I told you I can handle Edith.” She cocked her head, eyebrows arching with arrogant confidence, and I couldn’t help but grin.
“Fine, but don’t use your money. It’s yours, and you can either open a bank account or put it somewhere safe.” I pulled a crown from my pocket and set it on the table. “This should last a while. And don’t give me the change back, understood?”
She rolled her eyes but slid the coin off the table.
“Go and work. I’ll tidy up.”