As the sheet loosened and fell open, baring Eveline’s nude body to his gaze, his breath exploded from his lungs and he couldn’t draw another.
Dear God. Deep, purple bruises were present over most of her body. Her knees and elbows were scraped and the flesh ragged. Her hip was nearly black. One of her shoulders was starting to turn an ugly greenish hue. There were several smaller bruises up and down her legs and multiple scrapes and cuts to her arms and lower legs.
“Sweet Jesu,” he muttered.
“She cannot give any more to you, Laird,” Nora said in a solemn voice.
“Don’t you think I know that?” he snarled. “Do you think I would have approved of her sacrificing so much of herself for me? I would have bloody tied her to the damn bed and forced a potion down her throat myself.”
“That’s another thing,” Nora said, not flinching away from his anger. “The lass screamed so much when she was calling for help and later when she screamed at anyone trying to enter your chamber, she injured her voice. She should use it as little as possible for the next few days. I’ll bring hot cider from time to time. It will soothe the hurt in her throat.”
Graeme nodded, impatient for her to be gone. He wanted Eveline to himself. He wanted to hold her. Feel her against him. Just have the comfort of her body so close to him. The pain was not so bad when she was near.
It was time for him to care for her. She’d given much of herself in the last few days. Far too much.
She’d sealed her fate when she stepped in like a lioness protecting her cubs and watched over him so faithfully. She may or may not have made her ultimate decision on that bluff where he’d begged her for time to make things right.
But now she was his. And nothing or no one would ever come between them. Not her family. Not his clan.
He wasn’t ever going to give her up without one hell of a fight.
CHAPTER 39
Eveline slept the rest of the day, through the night, and well into the next morning. Graeme held her the entire time, anchoring her to him with his good arm. He’d slept off and on, remaining still and focusing on healing as rapidly as possible. Just having her there next to him, where he could feel her and smell her, gave him a sense of peace. She settled him. She made him content.
She hadn’t so much as moved, and he was beginning to worry. When his brothers came through his chamber door, Graeme sent them to summon Nigel. But before they returned, he made certain she was completely covered by the sheet Nora had wrapped around her, and then he settled the furs over her so she wouldn’t grow cold when he shifted away from her.
A moment later, Nigel appeared, and he went immediately to begin peeling back the bandage on Graeme’s shoulder so he could check the wound. But Graeme waved him away.
“I didn’t summon you for me. I’m worried about Eveline. She’s not so much as stirred even once since you carried her to bed yesterday morn. Surely ’tis too long for her to sleep. The bruises she carries are severe. What if she was more seriously injured than we all thought?”
Nigel bent over Graeme and brushed his fingers underneath Eveline’s nostrils. He put his hand to the furs, his intent to draw them away.
“With your permission, Laird,” he said.
Graeme sent a fierce stare in his brothers’ directions, causing them to turn around to face the other direction. Then Graeme nodded at Nigel.
Nigel carefully pulled the furs and then the sheet away and placed his hand over Eveline’s chest. Nigel frowned when he saw plainly the bruises that marred Eveline’s pale flesh.
“ ’Tis a miracle she didn’t break her neck,” Nigel muttered. “That horse could have killed her.”
Graeme clenched his jaw tight, grinding his teeth together. He didn’t like to be reminded how close his wife had come to death. It bothered him less that he’d taken an arrow to the shoulder than that Eveline had been injured, and the fact that she’d taken such a risk by mounting his horse. He couldn’t even imagine the courage it must have taken to overcome her terror and panic at merely being near a horse, much less throwing herself upon him and riding recklessly back to the keep.
He would have a very long discussion with her over never taking such risks again in the future. Just as soon as she was well enough.
“I think she is well enough, Laird. Her breaths aren’t labored. She appears to merely be deeply asleep. ’Tis likely she’ll sleep through the night and into the morrow. She’s gone days without rest and she sorely needs it. Try not to waken her and let her come around herself.”
“Nay, I’ll not do anything to wake her,” Graeme vowed. “She’ll sleep next to me as long as it takes for her to heal.”
After arranging the covers back over Eveline, Nigel insisted on changing the dressing on Graeme’s wound. Nigel carefully washed it, inspected the stitches, and pressed a fresh cloth bandage over the wound, and wrapped the linen strips around and over his shoulder and underneath his arm to secure it back in place.
“Is it all right to look now?” Bowen said impatiently.
“Aye,” Graeme called.
Nigel took his leave and Bowen and Teague pulled the chair and the bench to the side of Graeme’s bed so they could sit and converse with their brother.
A knock sounded and Graeme bit out an impatient oath. But when the door opened and Rorie eased inside, a hesitant look on her face, Graeme softened and motioned her forward.
“Graeme?” she questioned, a slight quiver to her voice.
“Aye, sweeting. Come here.”
Rorie walked to the side of the bed, her eyes troubled. She stared down at Eveline, tears filling her eyes.