Page 40 of Flanders’ Folly (The Curse of Clan Ross #7)

40

THE BATTLE WITH BELLA

* * *

B rigid was well awake when Flanders and Bella reached her door. The nurse had propped her up with pillows, and though her face was pale, her eyes were clear. She smiled when she saw them and reached out her hands.

"The doctor says ye must stay at the door," the nurse said firmly in French. "No visitors inside the room."

Flanders bristled, but Bella laid a hand on his arm. "We understand," she replied in Norman French, which seemed close enough for the nurse to comprehend.

"Ye're both here," Brigid said, her eyes bright with relief. "Truly here."

"Where else would we be?" Flanders asked softly.

The nurse demanded their promise not to cross the threshold, then stepped out of the room to give them some privacy. “Five minutes," she said. “She’ll be in pain again soon.”

Brigid leaned forward, winced, and leaned back again. Then she smiled at her sister. “Ah, Bella. I was so happy to hear ye were alive! For days, I believed…” Tears leaked from her eyes and down her face. “Such a miracle. Such a miracle! And now that I’ve…” She gestured to her swathed legs. “I am eternally grateful to Wickham for sparing ye even a moment of this.”

Bella could only nod and weep, holding a colorful cloth to her mouth to stifle the sound. Flanders put an arm around her in comfort and gained comfort himself.

Brigid rallied. “Come, now. Tell me everything, Flanders. What happened after Wickham came for me." She shook her head. “I was only told that he went back for ye. And that he’ll collect James Duncan as well.”

He considered shielding her from the truth until she was well, but he thought better of it. They’d agreed not to lie to spare each other. "After the explosion, and I knew ye’d gotten away…I killed the Rat Laird.”

Brigid gasped. "Ye didn't!"

"I did. Strangled him with my chains in the end.” And he’d do it again.

He could see she had mixed feelings about it, so he decided not to tell her, just yet, about running into the fire himself. “Moray warned me, but since Wickham came for me straight away, The Regent never got a chance to punish me for it. But take heart, love. It was a fair fight, not murder.”

She smiled, clearly relieved.

The sisters stared at each other, some silent communication passing between them that Flanders couldn't interpret. But whatever it was, it caused Bella to stiffen beneath his arm and he removed it. Though the doorway wasn’t so wide, they managed to lean away from each other.

"Please," Brigid said. "I need ye both. I need ye to get on, even when I’m not with ye."

Bella's expression softened. "But of course.”

Brigid waited on him.

"I will do anything ye ask, love.”

“Then love my sister.”

They all laughed at the silliness of the request, and he teased, “Surely, we can get along without that.”

“I’ll settle for getting along, then, for the now.” Pain flashed in Brigid’s eyes and she bit her lip only briefly. “But ye know what I expect. And Bella, ye must believe that I love him. Not just out of gratitude.”

Bella gave her head a shake. “I know ye believe that. But I’ll need more proof. Ye’ve been through much together, according to Wickham, but ye’ve known each other for a matter of days.”

"Time has naught to do with it.”

“Oh? Ye silly woman. Time has everything to do with it.” She waved a hand. “But time we have. And time I’ll give ye—to convince me yer love is true. And if this mighty love of yers is built on some sense of obligation,” she looked up at Flanders, “then I’ll take my sister and we’ll find our own way. And ye must trod another.”

The nurse returned then, her expression brooking no argument. "Time's up. Out, both of you."

Flanders wanted to protest, but Brigid shook her head. "Go. I’m weary. Remember to be gentle with each other.”

But she wasn't weary. They could tell. She was in pain.

* * *

Flanders discovered suddenly that it wasn’t wise to pace the front foyer of the house when Wickham appeared not five feet away, with one hand locked on James’ forearm. The tall redhead glanced around as if he’d never seen the Edinburgh house before. He looked more worse for wear than the last time Flanders had seen him, but there was a smile beneath the smudges.

"James!" Phoebe rushed toward her husband but stopped short and wrinkled her nose. "Auch, have ye bathed since ye left home? And ye look like ye’ve been rollin’ in a fire pit.”

James grinned and opened his arms wide. "Come give yer husband a proper welcome, woman."

"Not until ye've showered." She backed away, but her eyes shone with relief. It was only then that Flanders realized the risk he’d taken to leave his family to help a friend.

He waved to gain the man’s attention. “Did I ever thank ye, James, for goin’ back?”

James grinned. “I’m certain ye’ll find a way.” Then he looked Flanders over. “Ye look different in those clothes, and clean behind the ears as well."

"And ye look like ye've been dragged through Hell backward."

Wee Flanders toddled into the hall, spotted his father, and emitted a delighted squeal. James scooped him up, heedless of the dirt.

"Now look what ye've done," Phoebe scolded. "He'll need a bath too."

Wickham chuckled. "I'll leave ye all to yer reunions. I have matters to attend to." With that, he disappeared as suddenly as he'd arrived.

"I'll never get used to that," Bella murmured.

James turned to her with a warm smile. "Bella. We met only briefly at Gallabrae. I regret what happened to ye."

She inclined her head.

"How is yer sister? Wickham said she was badly burned?"

"Recovering. The doctor says she'll mend up fine."

"Good, good." James bounced his son on his hip. "And how are ye finding the future, old friend? Not too overwhelmin’, I hope?"

Flanders took a breath and forced a smile. “We’re managin’.”

“Well, we’ve all agreed to go slowly. After all, ye’ve come a lot further than any of the others.”

Flanders blinked. “Others?”

Phoebe laughed. “We’ve got friends from the fifteenth century who needed a lot of help too. So cheer up. We’ve got experience helping time travelers.”

James bobbed his brow. "Just wait until ye discover television."

"Television?" Bella asked.

"Moving pictures in a box," Phoebe explained. "Like watching a play, but the players are tiny and trapped inside glass."

Bella's eyes widened. "Truly?"

"No,” James said, shooting his wife a scowl. “No one is tiny, and no one is trapped inside glass. She’s a tease.”

"Guilty as charged,” Phoebe said. “But don’t worry. Television is far down on the list. No technology for a while, yeah?” She stepped back and waved at her husband to go ahead of her. “Let’s leave these fine people before the smell of ye makes them ill.”

Bella watched them go, a wistful expression on her face. "They seem happy."

"Aye," Flanders agreed. "I reckon they are."

"Did ye know her well? In the past?"

Flanders hesitated. "We were...acquainted."

Bella's eyes narrowed. "How acquainted?"

"I once thought I might make her my wife," he admitted. "But she chose James. As she should have. They were well on mad for each other."

"You loved her?" Bella's voice was carefully neutral.

"Hardly. I hadn’t known her l—" Flanders shook his head. “We were well suited for each other. Not the same as love. What I felt for Phoebe was nothing compared to what I feel for your sister."

Bella studied him for a long moment. "Ye seem to love rather easily, Flanders Leesborn."

"Don’t count on it, Bella Muir.”

Reminded of Brigid’s request, they shared a smile.

As he walked away, she gave a warning. "I'll be watching ye, Viking."